Swiss humor 1.
Here’s one that caught my eye, right in my immediate neighborhood. These guys are brothers who apply plaster and stucco where needed. This substance is called “gips,” and the people to apply it are “gipsers.”
Swiss humor may seem like an oxymoron, but that’s because most of the pix we see of Swiss are of solemn farmers and angry bankers.
The bankers are trying to maintain their cool in the face of harassment and intimidation by U.S. Treasury and other officials.
Swiss humor 2.
In Basel – home of multiple international banking organizations – humor abounds. My favorite so far is a newspaper headline referring to Egyptian President Morsi and his apparently dictatorial ways as “Mursolini.”
Yes, Swiss humor is subtle. I’ve already posted several humorous metal sculptures, but I’m concentrating of verbal humor today.
My salad repeatedly fell off my stainlesss steel fork before the lettuce got to my mouth. The Greek pasta? Forget it. Couldn’t spear it or wrap it. Cereal in the morning wasn’t working right – the spoon didn’t fit in my mouth the way it should have.
Usually I was so hungry I just struggled, but one day I turned the fork over saying to myself, “WHO made this?”
Imagine my surprise (NOT!) when it turned out to be IKEA. How are these people still in business? Maybe people don’t pay attention to themselves. Maybe they blame themselves for being clumsy.
But remember, there is an art to making even the simplest tools. If the tools aren’t made correctly, and the differences are often subtle, the tools don’t work right.
N.B. I switched to my plastic utensils and don’t have any more problems.
Concrete should NEVER be used in external residential construction. It looks totalitarian. I saw huge blocks of Soviet era apartment buildings throughout the Eastern bloc – Poland, Czech Republic, in my travels, Moscow in TV news stories, so I have no doubt they existed everywhere.
Row on row of these cookie cutter buildings, 12-20 stories tall, were all concrete and depresssing, I could well understand why residents were risking their lives to get out.
Being free doesn’t make them less depressing. The apartment complex where I live has about a dozen buildings, five stories tall, with balconies and some attempt to alleviate the gloom and sameness with skimpy landscaping. They are no less depressing in the cold, overcast, wet winter than the Communist atrocities.
All the private residences are covered with stucco – looks much nicer.