corollary to "Congratulations.."

I have to keep this quick because I have to ride my bike to practice (avoiding trollies, of course).

My team is sponsored in part by a restaurant, so we get a "free" meal after every home game. Its specialties are entrees and drinks that are huge. This includes: 1 kilo schnitzel, 30 cm (diameter) burgers, and 3 liter drinks. 

Truth be told, the menu is abridged and we have to pay for our own drinks, but at least we don't have to pay for everything. Anyway, while other people tried the colossal burger, and monstrous schnitzel, I decided to get a 3 liter drink. Since I don't drink alcohol, I got water. I managed to finish it before people finished  their beers. I was proud. That is until I went to pay for my drink. In case you were unaware, in Germany water costs more than beer. I knew this before I went so I was mentally prepared to pay 5 or 6 euros. I was shocked when the waitress said it cost 17 euros. Yes, siebzehn. 

In college, people had alcohol funds, looks like I am going to need to start a wasser fund. 

I guess that's keeping it live by some standards. 

Congratulations to Zee Germans..

Upon first arriving here in Germany, I was very surprised by many aspects of the German culture. On my first day here, however, one of the livest things I have ever witnessed occurred... by a 6 year old. Right after arriving at my host family's house, I was chatting with the father about the typical things when Finn, the 6 year old boy, came running towards his dad with a half liter bottle of hefeweizen. I thought to myself, wow, these Germans really know how to train their children. This guy did not even ask for a beer and his kid is running towards him with a beautiful, locally brewed hefe in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. I was impressed to say the least.

What happened next baffled me. The father opens the beer and hands it right back to his son Finn, who proceeds to run into the kitchen. By this point, I had no focus on what the dad was saying anymore, instead, curiously watching his son reach in the cabinet for a perfect looking glass mug and begin pouring the beer. Now, rather than doing the typical splashy, young, hyper-kid pour (surprising, considering this particular child was hyper as all hell) this 6 year old calmly proceeded to do something I am still learning to do myself - the Perfect Pour. I was in absolute awe as Finn tilted his glass to a 45 degree angle while slowly pouring in the beer to obtain the necessary amount of foam, all while confidently tilting his glass back into the upright position. Keep in mind, Finn is 6 years old. I turned back to his old man and decided that this guy was a damn legend and I was lucky to have him as a host dad considering his son gets him a beer and pours it perfectly at the age of six.

I glanced back at Finn to give him one last congratulatory look only to see him straight downing this monstrous beer. He looked up at me with the most ginormous foam ring I have ever seen around his mouth and gave a smile that spanned his entire face. By this point, the dad noticed my shock and coolly stated, "Non-alcoholic beer... Beer for kids!" WOWWY, if that aint Keepin It Live than nothing is.


Congratulations, Germany! You have an absolutely live generation brewing (figuratively and literally). Keep up the good work!

- Goldy

I stay live... literally.

Yesterday Cottbus was bustling with cars, mopeds, trollies, and buses. If you know anything about this relatively small town, you know that that is by no means the norm on even the busiest days. Supposedly, the German Chancellor was in the mall, so there were a lot of festivities. Obviously, Nick and I had no idea what was happening. 

We were riding our bikes back to our apartment when we had to brake at an intersection and wait for the light. I looked down at the cuff of my pant leg and became angry because my bike doesn't have a chain guard so my clothes stay getting dirty. (Of course Nick stays clean because his man-bike has a guard). Anyway, Nick pedaled across the street and I followed.

 Mistake. 

Evidently, he decided that it was now his turn to go and I (like an idiot) assumed the light had changed. Not only had the light not changed, but a trolly was coming towards me. I made a sharp U turn back on to the sidewalk with a huge cushion, but not before my tire momentarily got stuck in the grooved tracks in the pavement. Nick's man-bike also has suspension and man-tires so he just cruised nonchalantly to the other side. 

Self-preservation is about as live (or alive) as it gets.

PS- I definitely would have Hancock-ed that trolley.

House or Techno?

First off, I would like to apologize for the serious lack of paragraphage in my first post. As I have stated I am new at this whole blogging thing. Now, onto my next, and far more important, point of writing.

Upon arriving in Europe for an extended stay, one inevitable question comes up for every American; Is this House or Techno? A man like myself who takes pride in throwing on as many techno remixes as possible throughout late night dance sessions might feel this is an easy question to answer. However, after almost 2 months of being here, I am still struggling with grasping the differences between these so-called "genres" of music.

While walking into my first Euro club experience in Nuremberg, Germany, I had little to no doubt in one aspect of my life: there is techno, and there is everything else. I soon realized I was severely mistaken. As the large German bouncer let me in, I was quickly confronted with a haunting decision. To my left was a "House" room and to my right was a "Techno" room. "What the EFFFF?!?!" I was so flustered that the same German bouncer that let me in had to scream sweet German nothings into my ear to get me out of the doorway. Luckily, though, I remembered I had to pee. My normal bodily functions had gotten me out of another tight corner.

While walking to the bathroom with my German host-brother and his best friend, I quickly asked, "Simon, what the hell is the difference between House and Techno?" Both he and Jakob (his friend) looked at each other and giggled at the stupidity of my question. Simon quickly said something to the effect of "Well, house has words and techno doesn't." My world had been shattered. All this time, I had been listening to House instead of Techno. My favorite late night playlists were now all a farce and I began to have serious doubts in my musical knowledge. Damn you CASCADA! How could you do this to me after all the memories we had created?

After getting over my initial shock, I began to wonder what type of people would be in each room. To be honest, all I wanted to know was where people like this would be, so that I could stay the hell out of that room.

As we checked out the various rooms throughout the club, I realized that this question had no true answer. Some techno has words in it and large parts of House music have no words in it. Therefore, I did the one thing that anyone in my situation would have done, I consulted the Internet.

Later that night, I stumbled upon a truly informative site. The website http://www.innerrave.org/ describes the raving / techno experience to a feeling similar to this:

"Dance and meditation come together in the experience of absolute spontaneity! When we are completely in tune with the music, not a thought in our mind, and no idea where the next beat will take us, then we are in touch with our own spontaneous perfection. This is dance as a spiritual path to enlightenment."

I had found my answer. Now, I wouldn't exactly call good dancing spontaneous perfection, but, then again, who am I to judge? Many of you back at Amherst College know that spontaneous perfection can lead to some horrifying and awkward dance sessions, but maybe Amherst has scarred me. So, dancing to techno is a spiritual path to enlightenment, right?

Wrong! My naive mind needed more answers so I clicked onto the next page of innerrave.org only to read this:

"Any time that we have a moment of freshness is a moment of experiencing basic goodness!

Stepping in a puddle.
Recognizing an old friend.
Getting a groove on.
Anything at any time."

Now, keeping it fresh and getting a groove on sounds a whole lot like Keepin it Live. I never knew I could keep it live by stepping in a damn puddle. I guess it all depends on how you step and with how much authority you displace the water, but I will save that for another post.

In closing, I have come to the conclusion that the question of house or techno has no definitive answer. Both genres can Keep it Live at certain times and both genres can be as anti-live as it comes. But does it really matter? All you can do is be your live self and hope for the best. That's all these guys did.

And Now...

What's up everyone. My name is Matt Goldsmith, but for purposes of this site, you can just refer to me as Goldy. I am new to this blogging phenomenon, but I will tell you one thing... I am extremely experienced in the art of Keepin it Live. As I Keep it Live for the next few months in Germany with Fletch, AO, Kev, and Brandon (and David does so in NYC), I will start my blogging life. I will be relaying my opinions to all of you in the states about numerous subjects. As an avid follower of this site, you can expect all sorts of stories about the shenanigans we get ourselves into, as well as the perplexing German culture which we have found ourselves suddenly thrown into. One thing is for sure, however, every post will have to do with Keepin it Live. Now, you may find yourself wondering aloud, "What exactly is this so-called Keepin it live?" To put it simply, people who Keep it Live are born with that special something that leads to a passion for all things "live." It is a universal way of life which cannot be disgraced with a label or genre. If you do not know what it is now, you may never know. You are shit out of luck and I am sorry, you are most likely at the bottom of the proverbial gene pool. However, reading this blog on a consistent basis will lead to a much more enlightened understanding of this way of life and all it entails. That is all for now with much more to come later. Have a great day and remember to Keep it Live.

- Goldy

FACE!!!

So within my first week in Germany I was introduced to the term "face". A term I have yet to run into during my 12 years of playing Basketball. Nonetheless, it must have originated in the United States somewhere. The term is simple, you make a shot in front of somebody, you calmly announce "face" to your opponent as you watch your shot going in.

On September 14th, for the first time in Germany, I noticed a young 13 year old keep it live!! The player plays for our U14 team in Iserlohn, and on this Sunday afternoon his team was trailing 90-38 with 9 minutes left in the 4th quarter. This fiery point guard makes a 3 pointer and yells out "FACE" in his prepubescent voice as loud as he could while he covered his face with his hand, extended it out, and covered it again while holding it there for a good 3 seconds. The gym was filled with maybe 12 fans that consisted of parents, siblings, and more parents so the FACE call echoed through the gym with great clarity.

Fast forward 45 seconds and my man hits yet another 3 in what looks to be a little to late seeing they are down 44-92 with 8:15 left in the game. However, my man kept things so live that he sprints back on defense and pauses on the opposite free throw line only to pull out his two pistols and cool them off a little by blowing on the barrel and putting them back into their holsters. Meanwhile, the other team comes down and gets a wide open lay-up from their dominant big man who probably finished with about 40.

Ladies and gents, that's how you keep it live on the basketball court!

Re-enforcements?

Pretty huge day for the blog. It seems that my original belief that I would be the only person to actually contribute to/read this blog was untrue! Matty has officially been added as an author and will undoubtedly make his debut very soon. This should increase the amount of hits, as Matt is far more popular than I am. Sounds like Brandon and Fletch are hopping on board as well, so this thing might actually take off.

Lots of things happening at work the past couple days, but I hesitate to write about it. I'm not going to turn this blog about keepin it live into a blog about me whining about work. To that end, I saw a one-legged pigeon this morning. He was on the street outside my apt just kickin it with all his pigeon homies. I've seen him a couple times before (unless there are a bunch of one-legged pigeons crusing Hell's Kitchen), but didn't spend much time thinking about him till today. How exactly does a pigeon lose a leg? Those things are so crafty and quick, but also fearless to a fault. Perhaps this particular bird got a little to close to something he should have been avoiding (human, dog, machine...who knows?). I can't imagine another pigeon could do that type of damage, but I wouldn't classify myself as an expert on the subject. Naturally, my mind wandered to the thought of capturing the pigeon so that I could outfit him with a peg leg. Pirate pigeons. If that ain't keepin it live I don't know what is.

Live From New York...

It's Tuesday morning? Insomnia is a terrible thing, especially when your alarm clock is set for 7 am...yikes. Fletcher and I hatched a scheme to start up a blog that the 6 of us (Fletcher, Andrew, Kevin, Brandon, Goldy and myself) could work on together, although I'm not sure this will actually happen, as Fletcher and Brandon already have their own personal blogs going.

Reminds me of the end of jr. year, when we decided that jobs weren't in our future and began planning the website that would launch us to lives of luxury, lounging, ladies and laziness. We got pretty serious (a trip to barnes and noble for a programming for idiots book and a few "meetings"), but sadly, our dream faded away as summer arrived...

It is highly likely that I will be the only one to post here, which would be a shame since my life is by far the least interesting at this point, but somebody has to be a leader (and I'm always in the market for new ways to stay up late for absolutely no reason).

As of today, I have been working for 3 months. Turns out that working as a legal assistant (code for paralegal) at a big "white shoe" law firm in Manhattan isn't all that great. The hours suck and the work itself is mind-numbing. I'd like to say more about this, but I have to wake up in 5 hours so I can print out some documents and put them into binders.

Look at those smiling faces!

Being a paralegal must kick ass.