Good news to end the year... and interesting

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Just a ps....Rats in the Strand...

came out one night, and had a fight in front of the first row of the Strand. It was ugly. And I was doing the rounds, and this guy grabbed my coat, and said, 'Please tell my wife those are CATS fighting.' And I said, 'Of course, Sir, what else WOULD they be?' And got the hell out of there. Rats and bats, it was awful. And if there was one thing I knew... you don't corner rats, and especially if they are fighting. Those mo-fos are horrible. And they jump so high, Spiderman couldn't do it. Just a memory.

Well... to continue with looking back on the year(s)

Two people made a sudden entrance into my life when I was about fourteen or so. Moved into 'da block', freshly married, and beautiful.

I fell instantly 'in-love', they were so beautiful. Especially with the wife at first. Tall, elegant, kind, and so very funny.... and from another world, hey, NEW YAWK. She turned heads, and I was so silly... I'd have done cartwheels if only to get a moment's attention. He was my cousin, very tall, austere, and also very nice, and turned out to have an immense amount of patience, because, oh wow, I was 'in-love'. And absolutely pathetic, couldn't hide it, it hit me with the power of a thousand suns.

So I was 'the PEST'. I couldn't get enough of them, I was so infatuated. And was horrible. Growing up in a drab corporation tenement building, well, there wasn't much glamour to be found, and they were it, and I wanted EVERY moment. I was awful.

He was a cousin of mine. And for me, she was 'the goddess'. And she soon had a baby, a girl, and I was there from the start of her life, baby-sitting. He'd been in the military, and the job market was so terrible, he had a very rough time, and eventually re-upped.

Just before 'the girl' was born, they utterly surprised me, and took me to visit New Yawk, which was so unimagineable to me, I thought I had died and gone to Hollywood. And made myself even MORE absurd, because I took a mess of clothes for a two day stretch, and changed three times a day---seemingly to their amusement, because I thought people there did that.

We were at her father's house in Queens. They took me into Manhattan for a day I will NEVER forget. They made everything magical. One thing confused me at first. We took the ferry to Staten Island, got off, and they said, 'This way, we're going back.' And I thought, 'Why come here if there's nothing to see?' And then I learned why. We were half-way across, it had gotten dark, and the entire sky-line lit up.

That was Christmas and New Year's all rolled into one, it was so beautiful, and so very thoughtful. Unforgettable. We ate in Chinatown, they chaperoned me through Times Square, and I just gawked. I'll never forget that, and how kind it was.

We had the usual hum-drum life after. Sometimes they did mad-cap things. 'Let's go to New Yawk for a cuppa corfee.' and before I knew it, we were on the way, six hours down, six back. And we had corfee and a chat.

I took care of their first-borns for the first five years, till they moved away to a village near the coast. I was there for visits a few times. It was beautiful.... but when I watch Desperate Housewives, that road sort of superimposes itself on me, and makes me laugh.

We've remained in contact over many decades. And they visited. Often. So it was my turn, and I tried to return that wonderful gift they gave me. To make up for all the peskiness that was my young self. And give them some joy. And show them some awesome things in my new world. I think I half-succeeded....

What they taught me? She taught me snark, but I was already a bit of that even in young. She also taught me that you can take it only so far. He taught me the value of patience, and following orders. (I refer to the dread clamming incident... he told me to stay put, and I followed where he was going.... and ended up knee-deep in a bog, and it took three people to pull me out. Thinking, 'Oh shit, now I know what quicksand must be like.' Another embarassing adolescent idiocy...)

They weren't perfect, no one ever is. But came damned near to it. Like shooting stars zooming across one's horizon, and me catching the tail and basking in the glow for just a short while. The glow braked the fall, and remained in the heart. Good people.

They help and form you without you knowing they are doing it.

That's more valuable than diamonds, or precious stones, or anything.

So much for looking back on the year. People of influence, hey.

'You reach a point, you can't do it any more.' Ya think.

We reach a point in the year.... yes, you can believe it. This was a sentence via telephone today, and I thought... I'm not strong any more, I can't DO it, and it was probably a big mistake.

Except.... I'm at that point too.... I can't do it any more, and it is how I have felt for years with Peter. And I should have reacted differently, but... there's only so much you can take.

I'm going to REGRET not going out and LISTENING today. And I wasn't THERE.

Am already regretting....

People have difficult relationships, as far as I have seen.

And I am supposed to be, and am happy for two people who just got married, and wish them a 'happy ever after', I do.

Have seen so many other variants, I feel I have ashes in my mouf. Upset at the end of year. Swell.

No wonder I leave my phone off the hook for hours.

Whaddya know, no news.... So why not go to the cinema?

Nice to know nothing is happening in the world, it's comforting.... everyone going on about their business and their lives, and feeling lazy after the last horridays, and ramping up for the next ones. NEW YEAR. This is always the point where I say, 'oh, just GIVE me a BREAK, hey.'

Cinemas were about a fourth of my working life. Odd to partition it off like that. I got into that branch JUST when the self-censorship code fell, so it was exciting. Put a bunch of teens together, and practically every week a new tabu was broken, well.... heady times. Things never spoken of before, and parents never really having told their kids everything about human relationships and sexuality, we had a clique that were stunned, and amazed.

And we'd be shocked, I tell you SHOCKED at what the newest films would be. And get so wound up, we'd end up bonding, and talking up a blue streak.

We had three cinemas and a drive-in in town. I would get shunted to wherever there was the most business, do traffic control, (some people won't believe this, but there could be block-long lines of people wanting to get in...) and it was fun.

The flagship was a former palace. Seated 1400 people. Art Deco. It was gorgeous. When attendance went south, they renovated, tore out the last six rows downstairs to make a projection booth, ran a floor tilted upward from the balcony and walled it up, and voilà, it was a piggy-back cinema without destroying anything historic.

And we all knew most of the secrets of the 'mother-ship' and its' architectural wonders from the 30's. Like air-conditioning in 1933. In the main auditorium, there were holes under the rows of seats... with drains. And ice men would shove blocks in them, and there was a room in a shed out back and downstairs with the most awesome turbines, and if you turned them on.... there were two rooms off the sides, with the largest propellers I have ever seen. And you'd turn them on, they would blow air across the vent systems, which would blow it over the ice, and whaddaya know.... air conditioning! In my day, they used Freon gas, and having to go down there and turn them on was my fright of the day. Those turbines would rattle, the pipes would shake, and I would turn the fans on, and run like hell. It was like being in a submarine, and the machines never felt safe. I woke up one morning, and saw smoke coming over there from my window, and was SURE they had blown up. But the hardware store behind it burned down, not the turbines.

There was a creepy one, The Strand. We all thought it was haunted. NO ONE ever wanted to go to the cellar, because the sewers were nearby, it was very 'old' for American standards... and there were bisam rats down there. Eeeew. Three stellar things from that one.... standing on the stage being early. It had been a variety theater, and some of the lighting worked. And it was fun to imagine being a performer, throwing on some lights, and just singing something out, imagining there was an audience out there and wondering if you could get the projection to reach the balcony. YES, silly. If you're seventeen and get caught up in that, you have silly dreams. It's a wonder I didn't electocute myself, throwing the switches. But I had my moment on stage. So to speak. (Which is why I like Glee.)

The other two stellar things were us kids being kids, and a catastrophe. The first: we were showing 'The St. Valentine's Day Massacre'. And some of the ushers were so taken with it, when the massacre part came on, they marched down the center aisle with guitar cases and gangsta hats, opened the cases at the exact right moment, pulled out rubber toilet plungers, and yelled 'ähähähähäh!' just as the real gangsters died in the film. Outrageous, funny, and we had a fairly large audience, and they applauded. They thought it was great. The kids bowed, and marched back to the lobby, and I wanted to kill them, but was laughing too hard. I don't know how we never got fired.

The third stellar was having a horror film, and there was a storm, and a piece of the ceiling fell in, fortunately not hurting anyone, and bats buzzed the audience. You can't get more REAL than that.

So yes, the Strand was very creepy. And High School kids who were really into working there were caught up in the whole show-biz thing in their own ways, were unpredictable, but very creative, and never did anything destructive. Just made some fun.

The King was my comfort zone. Tiny, stadium seating, tiny lobby, tiny office, it was our cocoon. And we would land there after hours, and discuss forever, they had the films which really got us into overdrive. Bonding, telling our stories, and reactions to controversial things in a tiny space, it was beautiful. Of course, as it was the late Sixties, I would come home at two a.m., my head full of new ideas, and other views, and my Mom was off the charts....

She thought I was out doing drugs. It wouldn't have occurred to me. The cinemas were drug enough.

The drive-in was having to get exiled to Hell for me. I'd be so angry about it. I only have one funny story to tell... because mostly they showed soft porn films in the Spring and the Fall, and they bored me. But I helped a German guy with a job in the refreshment stand, and had to do the ticket booth for a few weeks, and he had just started. He was there to learn English. And they were still on the soft porn phase, and there was a speaker in there, and he was listening.

And I walked in with the night's take, and he said, 'What does that MEAN, "you fucking honky bastard" ????' It had been a long day, and I said, 'Put on some more fries, and leave me alone. You'll figure it out, am sure.'

Tja.... aspirations, hopes, fun things that end up molding your world view, friendships come and gone, being so young and creative, and hopeful....

Practically living in a chain of cinemas can make you have a very different slant on the world. I don't think about it often. But it was very nice, and it's an end-of-the-year sort of smiling, and missing that sort of wonder at what all the world is about.

Oh yes, the post-scriptum. I returned there over a decade ago. The drive-in is now an industrial park. No hurt there. The Strand burned down, and only the portal was left as a reminder. The King was still standing, but.... it was an outlet for junk clothes, although it 'might' be a cinema.... And the mother ship? Was razed. The bank next door bought it, and it is a parking lot. Somewhere beneath the tarmac is a cellar toward what used to be the front of the building. A little room, where we would re-do the paint on the marquee letters, and my name is on the wall. I used to think some archeologist would dig it up some day, and ask themselves, 'Who the hell was he?'

Some people ask why I don't go there.... I did. And it was gone forever.

Since the year is running down... one thinks of

people who were important in one's life.

And mentioning Bernie below.... well, he was my second father in many ways.

Most kids at the cinemas were afraid of him.

He was corpulent, had jowls like a bull-dog, and was formidable. He looked as if someone from the Mafia had sent him to GET you. He'd walk into the lobby of our main place, and if we were goofing off, which teenagers tend to do, he would put on a stern face, and say 'Party?' Us scared, 'Excuse, please' ' What is this, a party? Get to work.'

But his eyes belied him, and twinkled, can't explain it. He loved being 'skeery'.

Bernie was awesome. When I was sixteen, he took pity on me, and hired me to be an usher. And am the most impractical person going when it comes to being handy with tools. I had some head skills, and soon advanced, and became his assistant manager.

And over ten years, he treated me like a son. He'd go off golfing in Bermuda, and leave all the 'stuff' to me. Except the newspaper ads, those were his baby. I had the combinations to the outer and inner safes! And he would just go off, and I'd be all 'hey, we have to CHECK this first, and he'd say, 'no need'... And secveral days later, he'd come back, and I would have all the reports, and exact accounts of what went in and out of both safes.... (and even the chain owner didn't have access to the inner one!) and would say, 'Let's reckon up here...'

And he would SMILE at me so bemused, and say, 'I don't HAVE to, I know it's all in order.'

He was one of the most stupendous men I have ever had the privilege to know.

He had three daughters, one of whom was a nun, but went back into secular life and married, and one who was 'non-descript', and one who was sorta wild.... it being the Sixties, and actually, she wasnt wild. But fun.

He started off as an usher just when the Great Depression began, worked his way up, and led part of it in Pennsylvania, and told me the most amazing stories about promoting films, and meeting Jack Lemmon, and Shirley Maclaine, and how terrific they were personally.

And he got his plum, the NH part of the chain.

That cinema was a gem, and the last palace built before the Depression hit. And they wouldn't have survived, but the owner asked them to work for no pay for two weeks, and he would make it up to them, and he did. And they thrived.

And Bernie ruled it with a love and a passion for it, because, after all, he knew that history and had lived it.

And for some reason, he took me in an groomed me, and genuinely liked me as the son he never had.

He was a true prince among men... and caring, and... loving, and 'careful'.

He saw what I was going through, and would take me aside for a 'talk'. And tell me all about 'the third sexers'. Birds and the bees, but sorta fractured. And how he'd known so many in Philly, and it was ALL RIGHT, and they were OK.... (And me thinking, 'how could you RESPECT me...' ) I was so naive, and there are many wishes about what I should have said.

He tried so hard, and I blocked, turned beet red, and felt ashamed, and couldn't get a word out. But it kept me from killing myself. I wish I could have opened my mouf.

He told me about having sex with a girl in the auditorium, and the chandelier nearly crushed them.... It was huuuge, and they would crank it down to change light bulbs. He could be so funny, telling it much later in his life.

He just wanted me to relax.

If I have any regrets in this one... it is not having opened up to him.

He took care of 'his kids'. If they got into a scrape, he'd call them into the office if it came to his ears.... a bent fender, for instance, and open his wallet and say, 'Whaddaya need?' And the kid would be shaking in his or her shoes. 'Listen, this is a loan... you pay me back when you can.' And sure enough, come pay day, the kid would pick up his money, and leave some of it to pay it back. And he would ask, 'Are you SURE you can afford to do this much? I told you, pay it as you can.' And the kid would say, 'Oh, yes, Mr. H., I'm sure', and scurry out. Yeah, it sounds like 'The Godfather', but he was a good one, and the kids took the example of being responsible. He was like that.

It ended badly, as things in my life tend to do.

The owner died, his degenerate drug-addicted son took over, and the business went bankrupt in a year.

I was in Berlin on vacation, and talked to Bernie. He said, 'Listen, if you can find something, don't come back.' And I said, 'Never.'

So I went back, and held on as long as I could... until that Barstard John Shea gave me an ultimatum, and I WALKED. (His father was even more despicable, even though he did the authentification labels on the antiques Jackie Kennedy had bought when she renovated the White House, and he drove me absolutely into red-rage, internally... I spent 72 hours restoring antique chairs behind the screen NON STOP just so he could impress his rich friends one Christmas... and oh the coffee that one cost me....and never received so much as a thank you, let alone money. Bernie gave me some recompense, but I wanted it from that sick barstard.)

And shortly thereafter, left for Europe. And Bernie was stuck with the ruins, which he had never created, and shortly before retirement, was fired.

He had connections, but all he could get was selling tickets at a race track, where he had a heart attack and died.

I heard that the funeral was really impressive. A huge calvacade. Someone at the time wrote me.... ' amazing what free passes can do'.

I don't think so.

Bernie was very compassionate, and loved people.

At the time, he left a huge hole in my life.

And still does.

I miss yelling at him for only eating peanut butter as his main intake of the day... never ate anything else. He once told me his mother had said he was fussy about food as a baby, and peanut butter was all he would eat. So he stuck with it all his life. Pretty weird, but he was one of a kind.

So if it is end of the year, Bernie is on my mind, full of 'I wish', and 'Had I onlys'.

Remarkable.

Jake in a blizzard....

Blizzards are horrible to me. My cousins got married during one in New Yawk waaay back when, but it seems like yesterday. And their grand-daughter got married in one yesterday in NH, but none of the 158 people came to damage, and were all safe, and seemingly happy. In NH... blizzards are a given, people deal with them, and they are more like pit-bulls biting your pants leg than anything else.... irritating if not outright aggravating.

But blizzards can really change your outlook on things. The last one I experienced was on Thanksgiving in the early Seventies. It was on Thanksgiving day, and I chose early work at a cinema, so as to go to the family dinner in the late afternoon. My aunt did that, and it was an extravaganza, everything you could wish for and believe was possible, and I don't believe there were never less than forty people in the appartment, it was the event of the year... for me at least....

And HOW the snow came down, and wind blowing it into drifts, hey, we were on skeleton crew, and were opening with Clint Eastwood's first directorial film, 'Play Misty For Me', a thriller. The snow was piling up so fast in the streets, it was pitiful, and I was out shoveling half the time, we didn't expect customers, the conditions were horrible. (The trick is to shovel every half hour, and it's less work in the long run... just sayin'...) And then Jake came.

Jake was an old man from Greece, lived a block away, and on holidays, he would come into the cinema and give us candies he made himself. He was a lovely man, possibly seventy, and we all really liked him, and gave him freebies for the movies, and it was always his 'thank you'. I never learned if he had family here. And always had the feeling we were his family. His candies were delicious.

And that day.... he'd probably strained himself getting there, he was smiling with a bag of candies for us... half opened the heavy door, and suddenly gasped, grabbed his chest, and fell back on the sidewalk.

The two stand attendants screamed, and I yelled 'Call an ambulance! NOW!'

And rushed out to Jake, and began doing CPR on him, straightening his head, opening his mouth, and doing what I was taught in first aid, pushing his chest, trying to get his heart re-started, doing mouth to mouth, and screaming inside. And the ambulance wasn't coming, the streets were full of about a foot and a half of new snow, and were unplowed, they couldn't get there.

And I worked so HARD to try to keep him alive, and was freaking out and angry and frustrated. Yelling, 'Don't you DARE do this to us! Come on, come back, damn it!'

It seemed like forever.

And all of a sudden... he took a deep breath, and exhaled, and there was a rattling sound, and I knew he had gone.

But... I don't know how to explain this. He was still there. It was as if his presence was still next to me, telling me it would be ok. And I was crying for this man I hardly knew, but who was so lonely and kind, it was heart-breaking.

His kind brown eyes were still open, as if astonished. The snowflakes kept blowing in and melting in the warmthness of them, and running down in 'tears' on his cheeks.

I didn't close them. I wanted to remember, and he was lovely, and mischievous and generous in his little way....

And then the ambulance arrived. And they tossed him in as if they were garbage men picking up something on the street that got left behind, and I really went off the charts for denigrating. 'Don't you TREAT him like that, he's a HUMAN BEING!'

(Yeah, I was in shock.)

My co-workers had called the owner, my wonderful 'erzatz-father', Bernie. And he got me into the office, and I was just numb. Everyone else was afraid of him, but he was one of the kindest men I have ever known. And he asked, 'Ya wanna go home?' 'No, I couldn't stand it.' 'You gonna be ok?' 'Yup, I will.' I convinced him, he left, and then I quietly went to the wc and threw up.

So we got to see the film, me standing 'guard' inside, and there was a scene that was so similar to what I had just experienced, I was back in the wc.... barfing and crying.

But I was always good at covering up what I felt. Being in the closet can make you be really outwardly deceptive. And I trudged over to my aunt's house with more than a foot and a half of snow and it still coming down, and politely made excuses for being so late... had to work... and I trudged on home with more than a foot and a half of new snow unploweded in the streets, and veryone wondered why I didn't have any appetite. And I just said, 'Well, someone gave me some candy at work. I don't think it agreed with me.'

Inside, I was shattered. I haven't seen anyone die since, and wouldn't wish to. If I think of people who have to see that every day... well, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes.

And always thought, 'there was something I should have learned in order to save him'.

And then it was too late.

Blizzards bring up horrible memories.

I KNEW I shouldn't have watched the news from

the 24th. I mean, really, it only showed up the weaknesses of the 24 hour news cycle. Bad weather.... oooo.... traffic jams, au WEH!... ginning up fears of a suicide bomber who might try to blow his 'junk' up, and oh YES, that one was a HIT on the news, don'tcha know. And you can't take a thermos on board any more because they are such good carriers to hide a bomb in.

Now, I wouldn't mind, or even have the idea to take a thermos of corfee or tea, or juice on a plane... because, you see.... they used to serve all that as a matter of course for FREE, it was part of the already exhorbitant air fare. So not really 'free'. All you had to mind was your carry-on bag, place it above you, and hope that it wouldn't be full of screaming, disgruntled babies, and you could sleep. As well as the cramped confines would allow. We're talking about ten to twelve hour flights, here, and one needed that in order not to land and look like a friggin' OWL....

And one intro had a very disgruntled lady at the ticket counter wearing a Santa hat. She looked miserable. And yeah, they started to do it here.... go to a grocery store, everyone runs around in Santa hats. It's never wanted to make me BUY more. Especially the disgruntled faces. No cheer.

Ouch. I knew I wanted to sleep some more, but took a break. I shouldn't have. That wasn't news, it was masturbation.... hoping for something to go nuts over.

I should have known...

Happy, Merry, Merry, Happy... etc etc

Wishing everyone the best possible Christmas, and family peace, and yummy things to eat...

(am dreaming of a slice of mince-meat pie, and a slice of squash pie... and am death on desserts, but haven't tasted either in years... so it's a strange urge, must be sick....)

Just finished my mails and my head is so under pressure with a cold, I just want to go to sleep.... but not before wishing anyone I missed a Merry Happy. I messed up forgetting time zones, so best wishes to everyone in New Zealand. Am not up to snuff.

Oh, the obligations....

The darkest days of the year, halleluhjah...

Christmas is today, the 24th in Austria. Then we get Christmas day, which is for family, and St. Stephen's on the 26th, which is for friends.

But today.... is inner circle. Quiet. And very much what it is meant to be, I guess...

If you don't have one, it IS very silent. But they go all gooey and nice, and sentimental.

Yesterday I had to get out of Café Purgatory, I needed to think. And there were two teens, and of a sudden, they started looking frantically in front of the bench for something. It went on a while, so I asked, 'Excuse me, did you lose something?' And one of the kids said, 'Yes, the tip of my lip piercing.'

I didn't flinch. I have a nipple one, and if they get out and roll around, difficult to find.

And I said, 'Guys, is the BENCH screwed into the platform?'

'No.'

'Well move it forward, and I'll help you look under it.' And we did , and my eyes are shit in the dark, and I saw something glimmer, but it was Feldspar.

They gave it up, and moved the bench back like good little boys... just as the train came in, and we went on our way, but they were in my car. Got off in Leibnitz, next stop, and said, 'Thank you, and Happy Christmas.' And I smiled, and said, 'To you too', and no, I didn't tell them I have a nipple ring, thenk you...

A real oldie would have had a problem with them. They are young, have wild haircuts, and think a piercing in your lip is something 'good'. But if you pretend you've seen it all before... they are very polite.

My thoughts tonite are with Annti. We're usually both alone on this evening, and she doesn't believe what she can't see, and otherwise had a miserable time. So to my darlin' ... yeah, Happy Merry, blah...

Annti is a font of information. She freaked when I casually mentioned I was going to Afrika at the end of a mail before I did my post, thinking W. was gonna drag me to Ethiopia and help kidnap his son. Now that would be an adventure... except he's dumb as Jello....

Which triggered a memory from early hotel days. A Nigerian who wanted to hire me to sell stoves. In Abuja, but I think that in the 70's it was called Nairobi. Names change, and it gets confusing. He was very odd, it was three in the a.m., he had a beautiful wife, and said I was brilliant, and that he was an alcoholic and a prophet. I hadn't thought of it in decades, actually, but it is probably in my diaries.... I have several, but prefer not to look back.

The firm in question was across the street from the ho-tel, and I 'think' it was normal stoves, but it was an office on the first floor, with only a sign down below, so I really have no idea what they did.

Annti says my life is 'mad-cap'. Yeah, to a certain extent.... Sometimes slap-stick, sometimes dangerous. A chapter I'm still not ready to discuss, the most terrifying six months of my life, and I hope 'that' man is rotting somewhere.

But Annti... on this of all nights... I wish you peace and quiet, and everything, everything good.

I didn't do much today. Peter called four times, and I caught cold so wanted to just rest. I walked over to the market, haven't been in weeks, and Millie had been worried. And the tobacconist, and did my 'Merry Merrys'. It was Schmuddelwetter, everything melting, and resulting fog, and dirt from all the crap they spread when it snowed.

Called my old boss, wished her happy Birthday, and a wonderful Fest.

She's 74 now... and I know she liked me remembering, and calling. She's surrounded by a mess of family, which is good.

Otherwise... I didn't do anything special. Just watched a film on the channel I subscribed to. With Julia Roberts.... woman on the search for what she REALLY wanted. It was too long, but... It was called Eat, Pray, Love. A third of it was filmed in Italy, and it made me cry. Oh my, Florence, where I always wanted to visit, and Rome! where I've been, and Naples. It had to do with food, and oh, gawwd, the food! It was about a spiritual journey, but it was the Italian part that got to me.

This night.... always makes me sad, and remember. I'd forgotten how MUCH I love Italy, and the culture there. That was fairly heady. I'd been there before Peter and I connected, and fell head over heels. And when we did... I dragged him down there, and he was as thrilled as I was.

Just marching into one of the stellar restaurants in Venice, and being greeted as preferred customers. (They can be snobby...) And chatting, and getting a haircut and an Italian lesson from Franco, and travelling all over the inner bay to the other islands, even the cemetery, which was amazing... or renting part of a palazzo, and running for the ferry boat after putting water on to boil and getting living crabs at the fish market, well yeah, it made me 'homesick'. Shouldn't have watched it.

It was mad-cap, all right.

I long for the old Venice, when it wasn't overrun with tourists and dead pigeons on St. Mark's Square. I long for a lot of things.

So this night.... it is so quiet, I take stock of things, and end up sad.

Peter is being horrible again, calling. Every time I go down there, he gets hyper.

Whatever, Merry, Happy, count your blessings, ruminate on what was, and hope for better times.

Funny, it didn't LOOK like Afrika

Everything was festive, with names of people reserved for 'so-and-so' and family.... It all looked very festive. This was the foyer in front of the huge hall. Peter had a very confusing day... and wasn't very well. We were down in the smoking room with corfee before the festivities began. Whoa, he was in his own world.... It was the saddest Christmas I ever experienced. He took a nap beforehand, and I had me some chat with some of the personell downstairs. It wasn't very positive.


Then we went into the big hall which is usually for dining, and it was what you'd expect. Angelic little kids playing block flutes, readings of sentimental things about the 'meaning' of Christmas... and it was so packed I was claustrophobic. Besides which, Peter got instantaneously ornery and muttering nasty things about everyone there, and attacked Ksenja, head of the nurses aides, that I had to get him out of there FAST. He was shockingly rude.

Ksenia is the very attractive woman in the brown Dirndl to the right of the picture. Well, it was supposed to begin at three, and began later, and my bus left at four. There were buffets set up at stations along the corridors on both floors, and it all smelled very nice. But I had to leave after confining him to his room for a half-hour. I had a glass of hot mulled red wine, which has never been my thing, but must say, it was the best I've ever tasted. Not too sweet, full-bodied, the right blend of spices. Must say, they didn't cut on quality there...

So I had him accompany me to the door, and was polite, wishing everyone Happy Merry, and all that. And trekked home. My older Bus driver wanted to know how it had been, and is a very kind person... and embarassed me saying how wonderful he thinks it is that I go there all the time. I told him about the 'Afrika' thing, in a way that made him laugh, and he said, 'Y'know... people like that don't really KNOW, and they reach a place where they are happy. It's just hard for others to watch.' And I said, 'I know.' He meant it to be comforting. Café Purgatory was REALLY hopping, and loud and raucous. In the end, I preferred sitting outside. Just as I got home, it began to rain, three doors away from my entrance, perfect timing. And the phone was ringing. I missed roast pork, dumplings, and sauerkraut, Peter told me, and he said it was very good. And, of course, the ubiquitous cookies, which are so delicious, and come in so many variations, you could believe you died and landed in dessert heaven. Said he was tired, and it had been strenuous for him, so he was gonna go to bed. Below is the sky when I left the house. It varies so much from visit to visit. Today it matched my mood. Blue. But it sure didn't LOOK like Afrika.....

And I have to be sick in the head or something...

I joined Twitter. Shoot me. As if I had something to TELL the world every shit thing that is going on in my head every minute....

I need sleep. PC's are DANGEROUS.

I must be sleep deprived....

I just went Rambo.... or something....

Y'know... I don't KNOW what gets into me sometimes, I really do not.

I just did something AWFUL. The EVIL Ren, who just goes off the charts for doing what's right and damn the consequences.

Oh yeah, it's Peter again.... Who else would get my blood to the boiling point?

He kept his terror calls to three today. The second set me off.

His breathing is bad, and it is something you cannot FAKE. He said he couldn't catch his breath.

'Don't you get oxygen?'

'No.'

And then I went OFF the charts for patience.... and called the home.

'I'm calling about Peter P. He's NOT getting AIR. WHY isn't he on an oxgyen tank?'

I 'think' she sounded panicked.

'We'll really look into it immediately.'

Right.

Third call, he just found out on the 'news' that there is a very extreme grippe going around down there, and it is very dangerous.

And he is hacking and coughing, and it isn't a put-on, I know the difference.

What a x-mas... and tomorrow... I'm going to Afrika. Shoot me.

I AM GOING to AFRIKA tomorrow! Well, who would have THUNK it???

I was so unsuspecting. Mostly because I took an afternoon nap after being up from three a.m. and watching Soaps, and the news from yesterday, the highlight of which was seeing Rachel Maddow doing her show live for the second day this week, and oh boy, doing it in front of nine hundred people at the YMCA on 92nd street was stupendous to watch... Otherwise, it was depressing.

And the SOAPS, hey, it's Christmas, they should be over-whelming with good cheer, and blather, and people sucking up to one another, but NO, it was cancer, and murder charges, and deeply dark Dickensian shit, and the trees were more European, white lights, and everything color coordinated on the trees, like some of my nightmares. So I retired.

Then the phone rang. Peter. 'I'm in Afrika, can you come and visit?' (Funny, last time I heard, he was in Gamlitz and I was supposed to go to the Xmas party there tomorrow.)

'Really? Where in Afrika ARE you?'

'I don't know, but you have to get a ticket to come see me, and take the most expensive one. I'll pay for it.'

(ooooo, he lurvs me...)

'Are there Gazelles, and crocodiles there?'

'I don't know yet. Just get on a plane and come see me.'

'Good, I'll try to pin-point you on the internet, and parachute in, ok?'

(Never wake me out of a deep sleep, I snark.)

'NOOO, you land in the MACHINE!'

'Well how can I find you if I don't know where you ARE????'

'I'll figure it out.'

'Are you SURE there aren't any gazelles and crocodiles?'

'No, haven't seen any yet...'

'Well, I'll see you tomorrow, ok? I will find you.'

'Good.'

My supposition: the rooms have flat-screen tee-vee, he loves watching documentaries, and probably saw some nature thing, fell asleep.... and thought he was in Afrika.

Sigh... it upsets me greatly on the one hand. On the other, I had to laugh, although it wasn't a laughing matter, but do have a sense of the absurd and what is scurrile...

Tja, happy horridays.

People make me cry....

I like the eloquence, hate the evilness, the hearts of stone, and how this is such a no-brainer, it is just disgusting.

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Oh great.... yet another heart trauma....

Can someone please TELL me what I did to deserve all this?

Peter is back in the home... because.... it's gonna be the bloody horridays, and they don't keep patients in the horsepital during them. Maybe because Baby Jeebus is running around, or something.

His breathing is laboured again.... sounds like water on the lungs... and he's not supposed to get excited. You could just as well tell water not to run downhill. And happy horridays.

hmmm....

Planning to attend the Christmas party at Peter's place on Thursday, and thought he had had his phone cut off again, as he hadn't called yesterday, or by afternoon today. So I called, and whaddaya know... He's in hospital in horrific Wagna, but they don't know if it is stationary, or just a check-up. And will call me when they know.

And this after watching the Ven's Soap, where they provide horriday cheer by diagnosing a child with eye cancer and will have to remove it.

Isn't ANYBODY in the horriday mood? Herrgottnochmal...

This is why....

I think Jane Lynch is good for a Golden Globe. Why I'm feeling nearly as Grinch-like as she is. Good for a smile, at any rate.



right click for full screen on YouTube

Merry, Happy.... ya think?

How can that be America? It might be the best thing and in the real spirit of the season to act on the call for help below.

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Stewart's lead-in

Great stuff....

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Annti is going to love this..... not

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A shame

Jon Stewart did a good thing Thursday.

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I hate being indoors

Because memories come back.

Ok.... another fractured fairy tale....

Once upon a time, there was a handsome and intelligent young boy.

Aaand... he was morally sorta 'iffy'... but had a very interesting life in another country.

He travelled in theater circles. Met people... jaw dropper for anyone else, believe me, assisted them, and was charming.

But this is more about what he wanted for his friend. Whom he loved.

Love.... is so complicated at times. I'm not gonna make it 'pretty', or disneyfy it... It was very nice. And the boy wanted his friend to rise and shine in spheres the boy had never dreamed of. He had someone in the higher echelons of government, and the boy should have been picked to fill a position he was over-qualified for, just to get a toe hold.

But it didn't happen, because the wrong party won an election, and it went down the drain.

And THEN, a former friend was due to take over a part of the capitol's theaters, and wanted him to be his assistant, and me to be HIS assistant. And his friend said, 'WHAA?' And went to the bookstores to get text-books, in order to even KNOW what THAT was about....

So it was a commitment of sorts.

And then... the man due to take over had a heart attack and died.

And that man was iconic in the theater world.

Things happened that were heart-breaking, in other words. Stuff HAPPENS, you know???

I was just remembering a funny story this evening. All the theather stories. The child and the friend would trade them, and make one another laugh heartily. I should have told that one when I was on a visit the other day. Oh, they know about the Ginger Rogers/Marika Rökk fight during WWII. And all the other stellar people the child met.




But the boy was involved with a production in Vienna, and Marika Rökk was the star. And she was more Hungarian with the accent than Eva Gabor. And everyone KNEW she did yoga before going out to perform, in her dressing room. And there was an understudy, who had NO idea... And the rest of the team thought it would be good for her to go in and wish her luck... so she opened the door. The diva was doing a headstand behind it, and she knocked her over, and one of the best cat-fights in history ensued.

Horrible story, in essence, but so funny in the telling....

I should have told that. Everyone knows her here.

I guess I'm thinking.-... life has many cross-roads, and you choose, and sometimes wonder 'What woud have happened IF...'

Gawd, I hate the horridays.

Oh man... snow again?

Listen, I don't wanna be the Grinch, or awful, and we haven't had a White Christmas in YEARS.... but I see nothing romantic about it. It's just another big mess, and tomorrow is gonna be chillingly cold, and I do not LIKE it. So am having one of my 'I came FOUR THOUSAND MILES for THIS? day. I do not like snow.

This really ties in to a discussion

I had the other day. We get worked up about OUR stuff. Except OUR people are acting like THEM. And the outside influence has become very strong over the decade.

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A gay fractured fairy tale...

Once upon a time... there was a child born into war...

His family were mostly rebels in one form or another, his father died before he was born, and his grandparents raised him, because his mother worked very hard.

And he had a mess of aunts who protected him, and sometimes used him after the war was over... because they were occupied by four foreign countries. One would go to tea dances in the park with an officer, and he was the watch dog, for instance. An ice cream, and he would be distracted.

An ice cream for a child then was like getting a pound of gold.

His grandmother was adamant about him getting 'culture'.... mostly in the form of movies.

His grandfather didn't particularly like it, was more interested in FKK, nudist culture, and socialism.

'You're gonna make the boy weak.'

The child loved them both, and he loved the arts.

He was in a boarding school, had a really bad stepfather later on and reacted so badly he was sent there. And did his time in the military, but was so charming, he had it easy.

During that time, he met a very beautiful woman, an actress. And she seduced him as only such a woman could. She was married, her husband was gay and a film producer. He was nineteen, and got really confused. He loved her, but, it wasn't enough.

He played tennis and got his license as a teacher in two countries, but it was mostly to meet beautiful women, and be pampered.

He got into accompanying theater people to really rich parties and soirées. Tall, handsome, and very available. And one night, he was watching a play, and saw Luis. Had to meet him, Luis was gorgeous. So he did.

And he fell in love. Just like that. The theater world can go to your head and make it spin like a top. And he was on his way up the social ladder.... it didn't matter where you came from, it was what was in your head, and his was a veritable sponge.

So he was with Luis for a few years, and they were both so handsome, they should have been on Soaps. Luis contracted a fatal disease, and died a few years later. I don't think the child ever really got over it.

However, the child had so many contacts, he went to another, bigger country, and met the most legendary actors, actresses, and directors on his continent. And basically whored himself out, and had many adventures, and became enriched in his knowledge of the arts, and everything connected with the scene, and found that men would advance him way beyond what women would do, he didn't like anyone clinging to him.

And then tragedy struck, and his mother became deathly ill. So he returned to his homeland, to take care of her. He was stricken.

And it turned out he met a shy, very uncertain young man in his workplace, who felt very sorry for him, and what he was dealing with. The uncertain young man was fairly well educated, and the child dazzled him with his knowledge of what was a new world for him, and the uncertain young man had enough knowledge to keep his weight, intellectually. And was fascinated, and sad for the child and what he was going through.

The child's mother died. And the uncertain young man wanted to help, and all he could think to do was invite him over to eat, because he could sorta cook well. It was friendship, and empathy.

At first. It became a routine, and they spoke of so many things, and ONE day... the uncertain young man realised he had fallen 'in-love'. He hadn't expected it, it was just there. All of a sudden.

He knew that the child wasn't adverse to being pampered, and his background.... but the uncertain young man didn't think he could be attractive compared to all the stellar people his friend had known.

And ONE day, in the uncertain young man's efficiency room, the uncertain young man gathered up his courage, sat on the child's lap, and kissed him on the cheek. And the child said, 'I WARN you...' And the uncertain young man said, 'DON'T.'

And yes, those were lines from a film, and it was life imitating art, but... it was something spontaneous.

And the uncertain young man was beyond happy, and the child probably felt some comfort and bond... And surprisingly... the bond held. There were rough spots, and drama, and revenge sex, like on the Soaps... but mostly, they were happy.

And it lasted for 38 years...

But fairy tales sometimes don't have a happy ending. The child grew up to be an adult, and then became gravely ill, in that he became a real child again. And the uncertain young man ended up questioning what it was all ABOUT....

Hmmmm.... Gamlitz and Leibnitz

Was down there yesterday. Everything decorated for the season... This morning, on the telly-phone, he didn't remember I was there yesterday... And yeah, he's got the look, all right... I said I'd been there. He said, 'You were with other people.' I said, 'We were in the smoking room, and there were two odd ladies in there, and you thought one of them was a man.' 'Oh... I forgot.' And then he cried. (That was actually funny, because the lady in question had hair that was so similar to his late Aunt Hildegards, I just corrected him, said, 'Peter, that's a woman. Think Hildegard.' And he busted up laughing.

It turned into a long day, as my ex-colleague Elke asked me to visit for the pre-horridays, and spent a few hours, and there were delicious cookies, and some nice chat about all sorts of things, and her mother is so genuinely nice and funny. Her mother and father have one half of the house, and she and her family the other... it's split, but each has their private sphere, and it can be seen often here, but I don't believe I've ever seen that arrangement in the US.

Elke's Mom had come over to say hello, asked if she could stay and chat a while, which sort of surprised me, as we had met under circumstances that were embarassing for me. (It was the night I was put in lock-down, and I needed to get word out that I was incommunicado, and her first question was, 'Can you please tell me what the hell is going ON here?' Not exactly the way you wanna meet someone's Mom... yeah, embarassing...)

After my day in Gamlitz, I actually wanted to unwind, and be engaging, and not be this depressive, pathetic person, and ask about how their horridays would be, and talk about anything, anything but Peter. But she wasn't having any. Uh-uh. She got right into it.

And as in any house in the countryside, and as in the US, everyone is in the kitchen, which is the most homey place in most houses. And Elke had told me that her mother had 'accompanied' HER father on the same journey Peter is on, so she had very direct, and very kind questions, drawing me out.

As I've often said, the first thing I look at with people are the eyes. And saw kindness, and concern, and interest. So that was the first topic. I showed her the above photo, which looks nicer on the camera screen, and she said, 'Oh, he's very handsome. How old is he?' Bowled me over inside.

Not that it's unusual here. People know, you don't have to go around trumpeting anything out, and fight like Don Quixote going after the windmills. It is never up for discussion, people accept others' relationships, but they take interest if things go very well, or maybe bad, and are basically non-judgemental. It was like having a nice warm bath of care and concern.

And then we got into local politics... because the post office is cutting back and closing down post offices all over the place. My bus stop is at the post office in Gamlitz, and as of yesterday, it is defunct. The post office also has a bank function, and people pick up their pensions there. So on the way down, my hippie chauffeur dropped a woman off at the school stop, and this guy comes up with a thick slavic accent, and asked him where and when he could get a bus to Leibnitz. And my guy says, 'Five to one, across' the street.' Whereupon followed a sort of 'Who's on First' routine that had me in inner hilarity. Till the Slav guy says, 'OH, you mean 12:55?' 'Right. And just so you know... in southern Stryia, we say 'half-one' for 12:30.' I bit my knuckles to keep from laughing outright.

Well, the closure is sort of devastating for the village. They closed down the post office in Wagna next to Leibnitz as well. And got 'partners' so you can pick up your post packages at gas stations and grocery stores. (Is this beginning to sound somehow familiar?) But not your pension. So they have to go to Leibnitz. Now what happens to the old and handicapped who can't afford to go the 36 kilometers to get their check? They can have it sent on to their lockal bank... for a fee. (Getting MORE familiar?)

So the closures were a topic, and I told them about a woman in the smoking room, who Peter thought was a guy, and she was going on, she's one sour lady... 'Typical politicians, election time "Wau, Wau, WAU!" (dog barking) And after? NOTHING!'

Elke's Mom burst out laughing over that. And then we went over media, and my fascination with US politics, and I explained that I mostly watch... because we're gonna get the same in a somewhat weakened form. They're already cutting some medicines which have to be paid in full, the expensive ones.

Heard a lot about that down there as well.

And they understood that as well. And we really got going on the cuts here. This recession is a bitch.

Elke's Mom had to leave for her 'prayer meeting' at the church. (RC) I think she goes for the company, and probably just some good dish. Her humour is just too mischievous. She was gracious, and very kind.

Her father is a mystery. And I KNOW he doesn't like me. Oh he's polite, but he goes and hides. But not alone. As soon as I show up, he drags his son-in-law out of the house, some sort of chore to be done, they are always renovating and improving. It happened in autumn, and again yesterday... so pressing hey, and the devil or 'the Krampus is there'. Her husband kept popping in and out of the kitchen after that listening, grinning at some of our stuff, but he is a quiet guy, handsome, and he and Elke really fit. He must have been a stunner. But am so beyond that.

Before we knew it, three hours flew by, and I had to get my connection, and they drove me to Kaindorf next door, because the train station in Leibnitz is a huge construction site.... at least they still believe in infrastructure here. And the STAIRS, I get vertigo, like panic attacks in Leibnitz, just to get out of there.

Kaindorf is 'safe'. Nice and solid, you go down some stairs and through a passageway, and up another, and whaddaya know... five minutes later the train came and whisked me back to Graz.

And when I got out of the car, it was the usual 'Happy Holidays' thing, wishing good things, and 'Thank yous' for the invite and hospitality... And Elke's husband said, 'Thank you for coming to visit.' And it was honestly meant.

So I guess that was my Christmas.... early.

It felt very very nice.

Admin in Gamlitz... ok, they were good, concerned, and ok with everything.

But I will NOT get maudlin, and into the spirit. Basta. On the other hand... it was good.

Big Ed rips into Bonehead.... how nice....

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The War on Christmas is escalating???!!!!!

Funny...

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Sanders and Rachel explains it all

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It IS cold outside...

Currently nine below zero, which is approaching 0 degrees Fahrenheit. Hate it. But this is nice... wasn't the original with Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney???? Maggie Gallagher probably had half an aneurism if she saw it, but it really flowed naturally with the story line on Glee... right click to see full screen on YouTube.

I KNOW some people think I'm nuts

Because I enjoy watching Desperate Housewives.

Sue me, already, I enjoy that series.

With my new abo (subscription) to a web-site, I can watch till my EYES turn rectangular, and got caught up on seasons Six and now Seven, up to last Sunday, and they aren't coming back till early January.... which sucks. Season Six was excellent... three baddies, and hard to figure who was doing what why, right up to the end.

Season seven started off a bit lame. Except that the EVIL Paul from season one moved back after being falsely in prison, but he's taking revenge on the street in a
big way. Yesterday, as always half-way through the series... something cataclysmic happened. A riot on 'da Lane'... And EVIL Paul gets shot at the end.... 'who dun it?' He may have been incarcerated on false charges but is a murderer from first season, (for real) TWICE, and is a vindictive son of a bitch.

So now I'm all caught up on my idiotic shows, thanks to 'soapaliens'. But with Desperates... well, there is always food for thought about social issues, and that's what I like about it.

Was going ON with 'da Ven' the other day.... about how always the same actors and actresses get shunted around from one Soap to the other... did they have such a small pool of them in NY???

He couldn't tell me why... but he did know that one actress is married to someone who plays the ''Green Arrow' on Smallville. (Gawwd, he probably cheats reading fan mags, I try to get my points honestly... smile)

So, it was Sunday, and tried the last few episodes. I'd only seen the first couple from the first season, and was put off at the time. There are a lot of interesting political undertones now, ones I think are good. But NO one is EVAH gonna top the 'Lois and Clark' series. As a kid, Superman was my favorite, but that series was really fun to watch, brought out the kid in me. I got a kick out of Terri Hatcher doing a cameo on the second-last one as Lois Lane's deceased mother on video tape.

And I checked out 'Castle', third season. So far. Sort of charming, with good twists in plot.

And 'Bones'. Which I kinda like. I can't get the previous episodes, but now know enough to say it's good.

And then there was 'Haven', which probably got discontinued, much to the Ven's dismay, I assume, he loves Steven King. It's based on a Steven King novella, got stopped, at the high point of the series.... it was just getting interesting.

I LURVS me some 'Glee'. And they are on break till February.

The Vampire Diaries.... are sort of odd... but not so interesting as Anne Rice's novels, would rather read them.

Modern Family bores the tits off me.... pablum for everyone.

Then again, I've always thought 'Seinfeld' was a fraud....

Sooo... for my €19.99 am way over what I paid for, and got caught up a bit.

Good deal. If you sit on your ass depressive all day, and take in one epi after an other....

Studs Terkel (an oral historian), interviewed a daughter of a major studio in Hollywood, and she said, 'The American dream was a myth. And they bought it.' Paraphrasing.

She was right.

Depression....

Can manifest itself in very various ways... It does.

Today was a maybe in getting out of it. Don't know...

I had vivid nightmares right into dawn. Weird, distressing, sad...

It's like I've been fully lamed for months.

I could place a lot of he elements in my nightmares to things I'd seen on the internet the past few days, a mix of news, and current tee-vee shows on the tubes... but they were basically jumbled and sad.

Whelp, I never go out except for the tobacconist and groceries for months now, and once a week to see Peter, so got really odd and in my own cocoon. And I know that wasn't good.

And got up with a resolution today, as so many days.... and said... 'I'm going to change this finally.'

Sunday sort of 'did it' for me. Peter all panicked.... 'I'm coming to visit, and we're going to go out for coffee at Sacher's, and I will give you money.'

Ouch. Aua.... and I was afraid he would try to get out of the home. It was bad.

So I've been doing things instead of just vegetating this morning.

It's a start.....

I took out the garbage, most of it. And am on my second load of wash, because it just got piled up on the floor in front of it, but even that was an 'effort'....

And opened my snail mail post box for the first time in three months. When I go out, I pretend it isn't there, but there was something in there that I need. Badly.

And it was there, so that was good.

And the odd thing about THAT is... all my running costs get automatically deducted from my account, so it is only occasionallly that something comes in that is extra, and am mostly so strapped... I didn't wanna see any more. Otherwise advertising, or invitations for senior citizen's outings, that I never want to take part in either.

I had trouble getting it all out of the box.... three months' of advertising, and some letters and cards. It weighed a good five pounds to sift through.

But the beginning of October must have been a drop-dead for fainting week if I had opened it... Dire things. A summons to appear at the presidial office of the social services office... for instance, with all the papers I would need. And the Red Cross wants co-pay for my unwilling ambulance transport to the nerve clinic in June. Well, that was all in October....

And my heating company. I'm gonna have to scramble with them, they are becoming threatening through no fault of my own.

Peter cries more and more increasingly, and have to leave the phone off the hook mostly, which pains me.

All in all... it's pitiful when you get so paranoid, you avoid opening your snail-mail box out of pure fear.

So today was a good step. I got a Christmas card, and junk.

Baby steps. Am gonna have to call social services, but not before Wednesday, when I visit Peter.

Oh... THAT will be a Volksfest.... 'Ummm calling about your letter from the first of OCTOBER???' Ewwww....

One step at a time, hey.

A story....

Once upon a time....

There were two people, a young man and a woman, who fell in love in Europe. At the turn of the last century, in a part of Austria that is now Slovenia. They spent their honeymoon in Dubrovnik, and even traveled to Egypt, which was pretty ostentious for the beginning of the last century... Alexandria, and Cairo, and it was romantic.

And they proceeded to have four daughters. Hildegard, Charlotte, Ilse, and Doris. And then finally, a little boy, which was the dearest wish of the man's heart. Because he would carry on the family name, you see, and that is what people thought back then. And sometimes even now.

The little boy died of pneumonia, and it crushed the man, and he wasn't so nice to his daughters.

And disaster struck in their realm, and WAR came. The father was resolutely against everything... he would listen to the radio ilegally,because it was forbidden. It was sorta like being ordered to listen to Faux news, and forbidden to listen to MSNBC. Only you could be punished by death if you did the latter... sorta like, only much worse.

The woman, she enjoyed entertainment, and her greatest gratification was watching MGM musicals in movie houses. The man was more interested in books and ideology by that time, so it wasn't a priority for him, and he looked down on it in principle, and wasn't forgiving her for having 'lost' their son.

And the WAR changed the family. Hildegard got caught up in the enemy ideology and became evil. Charlotte got inducted and had to serve in a place way north of where she'd ever been, but her heart remained in her native town. Ilse met a German concert pianist.

She was stricken, and fell helplessly in love. And Hildegard plotted an evil plan to send her baby sister Doris to a camp for indoctrination, where she caught a bad disease, and succumbed to it much later without ever having spoken with her sister again.

The WAR changed everything. Ilse became pregnant, and had a boy.... except his father died in a traffic accident being underway to where the aggressors were heading. And never married him, there hadn't been time. The man was thrilled, he had a male heir.

And the woman was frightened to death, not only WAR... but, if anything should happen to the boy, it would mean the end of everything in her world.

But the woman wouldn't give up her beliefs, and what pleased her. She was feisty. And risked things.... like getting into a physical fight at a market place over who was better, Ginger Rogers, or Marika Rökk. Which was something very dangerous at that time and place.

Well.... in that fictive realm, that country began to lose. And the boy caught pneumonia, and they were being bombarded from the other side. And the woman would take him down in the cellar, lugging a grammaphone, and play music for him. (They didn't have penicillan back then...). And she'd play Fred Astaire. 'Cheek To Cheek'.... and it would begin 'Heaven, I'm in Heaven...' And the bombs would begin falling.... The boy miraculously recovered.

The WAR ended at Easter one year. And the family was up on a hillside having a picnic. And the other side came in and tried to bomb the city, and the man was up yelling at them, 'The industry stuff is over THERE!' How do they excpect to win the war by dropping bombs on the university!!???'

Shortly thereafter, the OTHERS came in to finish the war. The first were from a vicious country, and they raped women, and weren't otherwise exactly nice, but they weren't that way to children. And the boy watched his grandfather, the man, pull down 'the Leader's' portrait, and stomped on it and yell, and curse, and the soldiers brought out some vodka, and they toasted one another.

Decades passed. The woman never got over the censure of having missed the golden age of MGM musicals, and would drag the boy to the movies. To catch up. The man wasn't good with it, and there were fights.

The girls were dispersed, Doris and Charlotte ended up in Frankfurt, and Doris died way too early, as a result of what Hildegard did. Ilse died way too early. The boy had been living a life that was rich, and interesting, but came back to take care of her, and it broke his heart.

And Hildegard? She remained a terrorist till the end of her days. She toasted her husband when he got shipped off to the vile country, with champagne, and looked forward to becoming a widow. He survived, and when he came back, she never forgave him. She wanted to be a WAR widow. They had a daughter, and she is gone now too, and HER daughter married a sneakret service person from yet another land... divorced him and is now never to be found.

But Hildegard went out in a blaze of glory... trying to recruit African American rebels in Harlem and Florida. She ran out of steam at last... and passed on. Much to the relief of the rest of the family.

And the boy? Was stellar, and fell in love, and became very ill. It's how families can rise and fall....

All that is left is Charlotte, who married a man from the North, and is of advanced age... and me.

It's a parable....

Semantics II

Words have consequences... Interesting.

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Death panels......

in Arizona.... Olbermann has been pushing this... with real people affected by the incredibly sour-looking hater Jan Br

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ewer.

Hypocrisy

Senator Landrieu... Annti has always told me this, but good segment.

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umm... I didn't Know I was Harry Potter...

It fully surprised me.

But today, you see, (channeling EJ here) something 'odd' happened....

And Peter had been out, getting his check-up...

And whaddaya KNOW....He got lunch coming back, and he told me I had never made better hamburgers and mashed potatoes, and they were so GOOD. SO I must have flown down there, and done it.... or not.

And NO, I didn't make hamburgers today.

I have a good recipe.... deep South...

You put in garlic slices, and mess it around. And you get an onion and press out the juice and squeeze it into the meat.. And thymian. And some salt and pepper. And two tablespoons of Mayonnaise and one of Mustart. And then you put it in the refrrigerator for a half, houe, and then take it out, remove the garlic, and fry them up.

I hardly think the home does that, but he liked them.

I get so frustrated... WHY can't NH have a senator

Like Bernie Sanders of Vermont. He is amazing, and have been following him for a long time now. If our Bruno Kreisky had lived longer, he'd have been him, and I kid my friend Terrible a lot, as in What do YOU have that we don't have? I don't know what will happen, but Sanders has been just terrific.

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Big Ed fired up last nite.... boy he gets choleric..

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I hope this works....

I'm not good with Bill Maher at times. But I liked this... And Hulu doesn't LIKE it if someone outside the US can see it. Copyrights my ass.