Easy reading.
Kurt Beren Geiger on advertising, politics and my life in general.

If you live in Germany, you’ll hear this word a lot. Reunification. They even have a national holiday for it. Not the word, but the event. You know, when the wall came tumbling down and Germany became a whole country again – way back in 1989. It means a lot to the Germans, but it doesn’t mean much to me.
Reunification, reunions, whatever.
I’ve never been to a reunion. I mean, I graduated from high school in the Philippines while there was a military dictatorship going on. So there’s not a whole lot to celebrate. And I haven’t been back to Pepperdine and Malibu since I packed up my stuff and left for Sweden – again – way back in 1989. It’s not that I don’t like to meet old friends and reminisce about old times, I do it as often as possible, just not in an organized fashion.
That is, until last weekend. Kind of.
I didn’t attend a reunion, but I did attend a 40th birthday party with a lot of old friends. Deep in the backwoods of the Swedish countryside. And you know what, it was actually a lot of fun. Lots of familiar faces, good [old] music, dancing and plenty of food and drink. Did I mention that there was plenty to drink? Well there was, but I played the role of the responsible adult with flying colors. Next time I’m definitely not going to be a designated driver.
And next time the 3rd of October rolls around and all the flag waving begins on my street in the Düsseldorfer Altstadt, I think I may just have a better understanding of what all the excitement’s about.
Tack Bengan och Åsa!

Another month has flown by and I guess it’s time to put this blog to some use. After 5 weeks I finally received notification from Germany’s illustrious Department of Customs. All I have to do is pay 199,90€ in taxes and fines and then I can pick up my confiscated belongings – at the same place I left them. The airport. And like I said last time, if that measly sum covers their costs, or my aggravation, them I’m a monkey’s uncle.
Now one can only assume that my experience is just a typical example of what happens in Europe’s largest economy on a day-to-day basis. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that last Sunday’s elections ended the way they did. But then, what do you expect from an election where the most exciting thing happening was the election itself? And of course the chance to get to see a billboard portraying Angela Merkel without makeup. No thank you.
But who am I to complain? I didn’t vote. I just pay taxes… And fines.

I’m back! My batteries are recharged and my inbox is overloaded…
I guess that’s what I get for forcing myself to remain offline for three weeks!
I’ve spent my time recuperating in the US and its 51st state – otherwise known as Canada. I visited the fair cities of Boston and Philadelphia and wandered around in Toronto’s Kensington Market. In short, being “over there” was just fine. However getting there – and coming back – was a different story.
Boarding my Air France flight in Charles de Gaulle resembled a stampede in Pamplona. My Air Canada flight to Toronto offered the unique experience of a shouting flight steward instead of an intercom system and my US Airways flight to Philadelphia was in an aircraft that should have been mothballed along with the Enola Gay.
And I haven’t even mentioned all the passport controls and security clearances. I used to love flying; now it’s just one hassle after another. And even if I can avoid all the worse case scenarios in both the new and old worlds thanks to my dual citizenship, my return to Düsseldforf takes the cake in absurdity.
Achtung! You’re only allowed to bring in 175€ worth of merchandise purchased in a “third country” into the EU. Everything else is Verboten. Now even if the Euro-USD rate is currently very favorable for those of us working in Euroland, 175€ doesn’t buy much more than a nice pair of shoes. Which means that the two iPods I purchased for my godson’s father, as well as assorted articles of clothing for myself, are now being held hostage by German customs officials. Its called “evidence” and my stuff is awaiting processing and eventual fines and taxes. Now if those add up to anywhere near the costs of the undivided attention I received from two customs officials during an hour’s time and the pending three to four weeks case processing, then I’m a monkey’s uncle. And people wonder why the German economy is up the proverbial creek without a paddle…
I mean, historically customs fees were used to raise money, not loose it. But then Germans need all these civil servants to help keep their unemployment rates down… Like they need a hole in the head.
Good luck in the upcoming elections Mr. Schroeder.

Check out these custom’s officials doing what they do best in a Paul Papanek spec film for Coke.

My friend Björn is political. Ok, if you want to get philosophical, we’re all political, but he’s really political. In a nice sort of way. So when he asked me to help him and a couple of his party comrades and churn out some copy for an ad that was going to be run in the largest Latvian daily newspaper Diena, I didn’t hesitate. Not for too long anyway.
So there I was, a Swedish-American living and working in Germany writing copy for an ad that was going to be read by a Latvian audience concerning Swedish public policy. Can it get any stranger than that? Sure it can. Because after I was finished, and the central committee had dissected my copy, I was then asked to contribute to the media costs… I guess that’s the body politic in a nutshell.
Anyway, it seems as if the effort has paid off. For Björn and his friends anyway. The ad ran on Diena’s coveted page 3 and the political discussion that’s followed has exceeded all expectations. In both Stockholm and Riga.
Just call me Dr. Spin.

The ad:
sorry.diena.pdf
The Op-Ed page in the Swedish tabloid “Expressen”:
Vi ber om ursäkt
The Op-Ed page in the Swedish newspaper “Östgöta Correspondenten”:
Svenskar som skäms
The Op-Ed page in the Swedish newspaper “Dala-Demokraten”:
Hån mot arbetarrörelsen

Here’s a little thing I posted over at Adland about a German textile company and their special brand of advertising: Trigema - “Made in Burladingen”.