Castle Conundrum

King Ludwig II of Bavaria was one of the great anomalies of European royalty in the late 19th century. Ascending the throne at the tender age of 18, Ludwig II had little use for governing, and increasingly withdrew from the day-to-day affairs of governance in favor of his artistic and architectural projects, including several lavish palaces, much to the chagrin of his ministers.

Born in Nymphenburg Palace (above) in Central Munich, Ludwig II was the oldest son of Maximillian II of Bavaria and Marie of Prussia, who became King and Queen of Bavaria after the abdication of the latter's father, Ludwig I, during the German Revolution of 1848-49. His parents wanted to name him "Otto" but his grandfather, Ludwig I, insisted that his grandson be named after him. "Ludwig" is the German form of "Louis."

As was the custom of the day when royalty governed most of Europe, Ludwig II and his brother Otto were indoctrinated into the regimen of royal duty from an early age. As heir to the throne, Ludwig was both extremely indulged and severely disciplined. He was close to neither of his parents. He did have happy moments living in Hohenschwangau (above), a fantasy castle his father had built near Alpsee in Füssen.

As a youth, he was already becoming something of legend-in-the-making. Handsome, strapping and tall at 6'4, he would become an enigma "to myself and others." Raised to accept the duties as heir apparent to Bavaria, he studied at numerous colleges. He showed little interest in politics but lived for the arts and sciences and excelled as a student. He is said to have commented that he would rather be a professor than king.

Nonetheless, when his father, Maximillion II, passed away suddenly, Ludwig II officially became King of Bavaria. At first, he was quite popular, especially with his subjects. He had a passion for music, particularly anything by Richard Wagner. But he disliked large public functions, avoiding social events whenever possible. Instead, he enjoyed touring the Bavarian countryside and chatting with farmers and merchants.

Two years later, war would alter Ludwig's outlook on life considerably. First, the Austro-Prussion War, followed by the Franco-Prussion War, led to the unification of Germany and Bavaria's loss of independence. Bavaria, reduced to vassal status, would retain its own army. As for Ludwig himself, a healthy allowance funded by the proletariat allowed him to pursue his interests in music, theater and architecture.

Now free to pursue his interests with gusto, Ludwig II wasted little time, delving into sponsoring operas and theater presentations. But even more significantly for Bavaria, he focused his energy on the design and construction of numerous castles, including Schloss Linderhof, Schloss Herrenchimsee and the grandest castle of all, Schloss Neushwanstein, the model utilized by Walt Disney in Disneyland.

Fascinated by the musical dramas and writings of Richard Wagner, Ludwig brought the composer to Munich. However, he left Munich due to government conflict and used his personal fortunes to fund the construction of his elaborate castles. These projects provided employment for many hundreds of local laborers and artisans and brought a considerable flow of prosperity to poor regions where the castles were built.

Despite the fact that Ludwig II financed his many projects with his own funds and not government coffers, his ministers attempted to dispose of him through constitutional means, insisting that he was insane and therefore unfit to rule. The accusations were numerous: pathological shyness aversion to state affairs, homosexuality and expensive flights of fancy.

I guess we'll never know. Under the care of severel psychiatrists, "Mad" King Ludwig and one of his psychiatrists drowned in Lake Stamberg under mysterious circumstances. His death was ruled a suicide. But was King Ludwig really a raving lunatic, or merely a shy genius? Despite being a massive drain on royal finances during his reign, the castles collectively have generated immense economic benefits for Bavaria ever since. He remains popular in Munich.

Meandering The Marienplatz

Finding a cab at the Munich airport was easy, but the ride into town was anything but easy. With our cell phones still rebooting, all I could muster from my college German was "Wir gehen zum Hotel Atrium" (We are going to the Atrium Hotel). To make matters worse, we hit rush hour traffic, complicated by numerous construction sites. By the time the cabbie figured out the right hotel, our fare had reached 130 euros. The driver practically scoffed at his 10 euro tip. He was in a mood.

Relieved to have arrived at our hotel, we hauled our bags into the lobby and checked into the four-star facility. Other than our unfortunate timing in hitting rush hour traffic, late afternoon is actually the perfect time to arrive in a European city, especially when coming from Oregon. After all, it's cocktail hour! Fortunately, our hotel was conveniently located just blocks from the Karlsplatz (above), one end of the busiest shopping and dining districts in Germany. Where to go for dinner?

The "town square" in the old section of Munich is more of a series of plazas within a circle around the city's core, bounded by the Karlsplatz on the west. the Odeonplatz on the north, and the Isar River on the east and south, creating an incomparable dining and shopping hub. The Marienplatz resides at the center of the pedestrian zone along Kaufingerstrasse (above). Though we were sorely tempted by the Rathskeller (below), we settled on the Augustiner instead, another fine restaurant.

Wie Gehts, München?

On our first trip back to Europe since before the pandemic, we targeted Munich, the third largest city in Germany, as our first stop on a grand tour through Germany, Austria and Italy. Having spent three weeks in Munich with daughter Gina in 2011, I was anxious to return to the hub of the Bavarian Alps.

Traveling this time with son Jory, we weathered the 12-hour flight from Denver and arrived mid-afternoon. Munich, of course, is known worldwide for its Octoberfest, when more than six million visitors join the two million residents of Munich for a bierfest recognized as the world's biggest kegger.

Benedictine monks, drawn by fertile farmland and Munich's proximity to Italy, first settled the area in the 12th century. The city derives its name from the medieval "munichen,"  or "of the monks." These same monks learned to develop beer and closely guarded the secrets of their craft.

 

The Monk's Trail

We leave next week for Europe with a focus on the "Monk's Trail," a route that follows the journey of Albert, a 13th-century Abbot from Germany who documented his pilgrimage to Rome. The route is nearly 2,200 kilometers long, passing through the center of the Alps from Germany on the north, through Austria, and on to Italy in the south.

Initially, the plan is to thoroughly explore Munich, the home of the world-renowned "Octoberfest" before venturing to nearby attractions like the castles of "Mad" King Ludwig II -- Hohenschwangau, Neuschwanstein (below) and Linderhof -- and other nearby attractions like Der Zugspitze, the highest point in Germany, and Adolf Hitler's "Eagles Nest."

From Munich, we'll travel by train through the Alps over Brenner Pass into Italy's northern city of Bolzano in South Tyrol near the Dolomites. The plan is to visit the Messner Mountain Museum established by Reinhold Messner, one of the world's most renowned mountaineers known for his alpine-style techniques and minimalist approach to climbing.

Next, we'll hop another train bound for Genoa and the Italian Riviera. We'll explore Portofino and Portovenere, and visit family in Isolona. All along the way, from Munich to Genoa, I will interview willing participants interested in discussing the current state of affairs in the United States of America for my first podcast, tentatively titled Rooftop Ramblings.

Things My Nonna Used To Say

Growing up in a matriarchy with my Italian grandmother (above left, with her sister) and my mother while my father taught school in remote locations in Oregon, my brother Robert and I learned much about Nonna's expressions and witticisms, including colloquialisms and idioms unique to the Province of Liguria and the Province of Piedmont in northern Italy. Each and every expression had a parable with a specific point.

Nonna expression: "Il pesce puzza dalla testa." Literal translation: "An old fish smells from the head down." Subtext: "Certain groups smell from the top echelon." Gonzo perspective: "As much as today's Republican Party stinks to high heaven, it's much worse at the top of this dung heap."

Nonna expression: "Labito non fa il monaco." Literal translation: "The habit doesn't make the monk." Subtext: "Don't believe everything you see on the internet." Gonzo perspective: "Just because you believe some Asian beauty is hitting on you on social media doesn't mean she really isn't some big ugly dude with excessive nose hair who is trying to rip you off."

Nonna expression: "Chi nulla sa, presto parla." Literal translation: "The empty head speaks first." Subtext: "Those who know the least have the most to say." Gonzo perspective: "How will we know the difference between Herr Gropenfuhrer's technicolor yawn compared to actual onset of dementia?" 

Nonna expression: "Chi sta a casa, sta secco, e chi esce, s'ingrandisce." Literal translation: "Those who stay at home will shrink up like a prune. But those who go out will go into full bloom." Subtext: "Learning is experience. Everything else is just information." Gonzo perspective: "After being sidelined for the last few years, it's high time to get out and about."

Along those lines, a trip to The Motherland (below, Nonno and Nonna) and more is on tap this summer for the first time since before the pandemic, with stops in Munich, Bolzano, Torino, Genoa and the Italian Riviera on the agenda. After all, travel is one of life's great teachers, revealing a world of cultures and people to meet, including family. More to come.

Going Up?

On May 22, the UO Chapter of the Public Relations Student Society of America returned to Portland for another action-packed professional development tour before the end of the school year in June. Our first stop in the City of Roses was Maxwell Public Relations, an independent, woman-owned brand communications agency, where we were joined by my colleague Dianne Danowski Smith, APR, Fellow PRSA.

Maxwell PR, located in the Lair Hill neighborhood, works with consumer brands to help strengthen local economies, such as the City of Astoria, while nurturing human connection and opportunity. To my great delight, the agency's presentation was facilitated by Maxwell PR Account Director Jessica Lee, a former student in my public relations classes at the University of Oregon School of Journalism and Communication.

Next up was We Communications, a global communications and integrated marketing agency locate in the Pearl District. Packing too many of us at once into the elevator, the car jerked abruptly, then stopped, so two of us exited quickly and took the stairs. Meanwhile, the rest of our group remained stuck in place for about 20 minutes until help arrived. Yet as you can see, nobody panicked during "The Great Elevator Caper."

Once our full cohort was in place, the We Communications team provided a comprehensive interactive session focused on describing their work with national and international clients with emphasis on the intersection of technology and humanity.  Much to my surprise, the We Communications team in Portland also included several former students and advisees, including Sophie Ey, Megan Connor and Daphne Martin.

At the end of the day, it was yet another fabulous UO PRSSA professional development tour thanks to the professionals at Maxwell PR and We Communications, with a tip of the fedora to Shaelyn Ross and Riley Severino for coordinating the junket to Portland. The last UO PRSSA trip of the year was the perfect complement to the group's trip to New York City in February. Thanks to all the professionals we've seen in 2024-25, and despite "The Great Elevator Caper," these aspiring public relations professionals have no place to go but up!

A Boy And His Dog

We met on a sunny but crisp January morning in 2012 at Sand Dunes Kennel in Florence, Oregon. She was one of eight English creme golden retrievers bundled in a corner of the kennel. Most of the others were sleeping or feeding. But this pup walked across the kennel to the base of my feet and untied my shoes. "This one has moxie," I said aloud. "She is the one."

We spent the next 13+ years together with our canine companion, much beloved by our entire family. We took trips galore to the beaches of the Oregon Coast and the hinterlands of the Cascade Mountains. She was our resident alarm system as she patrolled the perimeter of our fence. She had escaped death before. But on March 21, she passed.

The family is devastated. Moxie has been by my side for 18 percent of my current life span, and an integral part of our lives for well over a decade. It's been difficult for me to reconcile. My heart insists it's still mending. But my mind tells me to remember all the good times, all the funny moments and the pure joy and love that Moxie brought to our family.

We learned immediately that Moxie was not a good traveler. On the road back to Eugene, she threw up in the car. When we relocated her to the crate, she pooped in place. She was a Nervous Nellie whenever we traveled with her somewhere. But eventually, she came to tolerate our trips with much coaxing and reassurance, along with a comfortable berth in the car.

Moxie was not only a beautiful golden retriever, but her personality was pure sweetness and light. On walks, the people we met couldn't help but comment. Many felt a compelling need to pet her, and she always accommodated them. Kids loved her.

When I would leave town on a trip to hither and yon, I would often hear this: "She knows you're gone and she's slightly depressed about it." But when I would return, she would go bonkers with enthusiasm.

We spent much time together at our Owl Conservatory retreat in the North Cascades, enjoying our trail walks and meanderings in Shugart Flats. Unlike Carmen, who would wander off into the brush, causing great consternation, Moxie always stuck close by. Her loyalty and love for her family was off the charts. Interestingly, she had no interest in most other dogs...

...except for her beloved half-brother, whipping boy and chief ally, Boba Fett, an English bulldog adopted by my daughter's family. Buddies from the beginning, Moxie had no problem bossing Boba around. Yet she was a loving big sister to the irascible Boba Fett, whom could bully and intimidate much larger dogs, including a Russian wolfhound.

Despite the fact that she is a Capricorn, Moxie was pure water dog, whether it was cooling off in the kiddie pool we bought exclusively for her use, rolling in puddles over at the Lane County Fairgrounds, wading into the current of the Chiwawa River, or diving into the frigid waters at Lake Wenatchee State Park near the Owl Conservatory. She was all in.

Moxie was always my "wing pup" when I needed her the most. She was there for me: when I slipped in the backyard and fractured two vertebra, she diligently escorted me to the couch where I remained until having spinal fusion surgery; when I was in recovery mode, she never left my side; and when I slipped down the hallway stairs, she was the first to arrive.

She escaped death on several occasions, starting with a near miss by a speeding car when she bolted across the street to greet the mailman. But she also survived major surgery to have her spleen removed. An examination of the organ determined that the abscess was benign and she survived for two more years, even shaking off a stroke late last year.

What she could not escape was a traumatic injury she received at Suds 'Em, our longtime groomer. Our veterinarian confirmed that Moxie had suffered severe bruising around her neck, resulting in blood and fluid filling her lungs, making it harder for her to breathe, and preventing her from getting up on her back legs and walking. Negligence, plain and simple.

Despite the tragedy of her loss, we will remember the good times: chasing the Canadian geese over at the Lane County Fairgrounds, swimming with the other bathers at Lake Wenatchee State Park, walks on the beach near the Siuslaw Jetty in Florence and so much more over her 13 and a half years with our family.

We are heartbroken and we will miss her terribly. Some have asked: Is there another dog in my future? Goes without saying. Life is simply too short without a canine companion.