Letter from Berlin. . .

Yours truly earlier today, sporting a new haircut, courtesy of a small Turkish-German place five minutes away.

We've been here in Berlin for a bit over three weeks, where my wife is teaching a summer course at The Frei Universitat on German films and Berlin, with three weeks left before we return home to East Lansing. The weather here has been warm enough to keep things pretty casual where my son and I are concerned.

For example, I brought several pairs of chino shorts, and couple of knit short sleeve polo shirts, a madras, a seersucker, and a poplin shirt for example with my pair of Sperry dock-siders. Truthfully, these have sufficed most days. I did have the chance to put on some chinos, loafers, and a blazer last Friday evening to meet some colleagues of my wife's from The Frei Universitat.

Sadly, I have not yet had occasion to wear either my maroon knit silk tie, or my Madras tie. The few men I see in suits are usually poorly fitted suits with shoulders that are far ttoo boxy and sleeves that are far too long, but I'm nitpicking I suppose. Most young men around here are pretty trendy, or stuck in the early 80s punk scene along with some ugly 90s tats and facial piercings. Sorry for not being sorry about that, but there you are.

I did spot a very nicely dressed young couple about two weeks ago on the U-bahn one warm afternoon. Both were tall and blonde, but not excessively so. He was very handsome and looked like a 1930s movie star with khaki shorts, a tucked in blue oxford cloth button-down, and (surprise) something akin to leather dock-siders. She was stunning in a sleeveless black top, black shorts, and heels and two, or three understated pieces of silver jewelry. They certainly stood apart from everyone else and were Germans (I heard them speaking). So, there are people here in Berlin who get it.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

Cool enough today for tan Land's End cords and my Chucks!

Up North Style. . .

Bad Dad makes a friend. YMP and Bad Dad on the shores of Lake Michigan. Or was that Crystal Lake? The Grand Duchess takes a selfie in her kayak. How NOT to impress the girls sunning themselves along the river. YMP and Bad Dad kayaking on the Platte River headed toward Loon Lake. J ust back from a week in Northern Michigan in a charming and spacious house on the banks of the Betsie River outside of Thompsonville. A largely pleasant seven days despite some challenging episodes with the Young Master, who has picked up some very questionable habits and language from his friends in the 8th Grade during the school year just ended. But otherwise, we enjoyed ourselves and contemplated remaining for a few days longer since the house was available. In the end, we decided to return home as planned originally since neither my wife, nor I wanted to spend the remaining days chained to our computers in Zoom meetings from our vacation destination. I actually managed to leave the laptop and ip

Mid-June Thursday Style. . .

A nother pretty typical variation on the theme for late spring, summer, and very early fall. I'm a huge fan of Madras and have several such shirts in the seasonal rotation. Lightweight, exceedingly comfortable, and even dressy when pressed and tucked in, which is the usual way of things here at Totleigh in the Wold. Now, if I had my druthers, I'd still rather be skiing the trails in the upper half of "The Mitten" (of Michigan), in the Upper Peninsula, or Ontario. But summers ain't so bad either, and I'd look pretty funny walking around in cross-country ski attire during June. -- Heinz-Ulrich

A Lazy Saturday at the End of June. . .

A sleepy first half of the weekend here at Totleigh. Warmer and quite humid ahead of an approaching cool front here in Mid-Michigan. Perfect for yet another pair of chino shorts an a seersucker shirt -- tucked in of course -- with the usual leather deck shoes and ribbon belt. Otherwise, not much accomplished beyond a page or so of writing and monkeying around with audio settings for an upcoming podcast episode. However, I was not completely useless yesterday! I made a huge fruit salad for dinner, which the Grand Duchess and I enjoyed a short while later at the table on the back porch. The Young Master, as is his wont on Saturday evenings, took his dinner on a tray in the TV room upstairs where he whiled away a couple of hours on Flight Simulator, flying some sort of commercial airliner to some destination across the Atlantic or Pacific. I would have loved that sort of technology at about nine or 10 way back during the late 1970s, aka The Stone Age. As it is, my sister and

Classic Style

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