This post has nearly nothing to do with birds and everything to do with a cultural issue that has been brewing for years.
I’ve done my best to integrate, both in Germany and now in Austria. I speak passable German, I open the windows to air out the house even in winter, and I eat every variation of cabbage with minimal complaints.
*On reflection, the last two points may be related.
That said, there is one thing that I refuse to accept. Call me close-minded, call me prejudiced; I don’t care. The ability to draw a line based on moral grounds is what separates man from beast. I refuse to accept or use a damn German pillow.
Imagine a giant square pillowcase, the width of a normal pillow but twice as long. Now add approximately a quarter of the stuffing you would add to a normal pillow and voila, you have a German pillow. It’s enormous, it’s flat, and it provide only homeopathic support to your cervical spine. It’s the exact opposite of a Birkenstock. They make me sleep like a baby in that I wake up frequently and tearfully.
Their ubiquitous presence in every German and Austrian hotel, despite their inefficacy as a pillow, is a mystery. Presumably they, like mimes and accordion players, are protected from extinction under Unesco world heritage laws. It’s not surprising coming from people who think cold butter on cold bread is an acceptable dinner. German Husband insists that you can fold it to your exact needs. He is wrong.
It may be hypocritical of me to criticize how other people sleep. After all, the best I ever sleep is during a field season, when I’m lying on a foam pad in the back of a jeep with an alarm set for 4 in the morning. Sometimes when I can’t sleep at home I pretend I’m curled up in the back of a car or in a tent, maybe with some light rain pattering on the roof.
I have invested in a proper firm pillow that actually holds my Neanderthal skull at an acceptable height. While my brain may be unremarkable, my noggin still deserves to be supported.