Underground Facades

Da Ven... was asking me about the SOTU address...

2012-01-27T07:30:00.002+01:00

To tell the truth, have been putting it off, because I had to digest that. Did I see it, he wished to know. Yes, I certainly did. Not that it normally means much. Congress never does what is proposed anyway.

He had a wonderful time watching the Rethugs sitting on their hands with sour faces, and I have the sneaking suspicion he wasn't eating popcorn. He probably had ice cream to go with it.

At first I thought it was just me, but I was listening and watching carefully. Although brilliantly executed, I had some trouble with some of it, especially the bending over to the gas people and saying they would go on with fracking, and opening even more oil drilling. Boy, he played both sides of the fence on the issue, and did it masterfully.

He was still trying for consensus, and managed to put the emphasis in the assertive tone to deflect the fact that he is still 'comprimising'. I don't think there is room for that. None of what he proposed is going to be worked on anyway, the Rethugs wouldn't even consider it.

So yeah, nice speech. Horrible faces in the crowd... looked like a messed up clown car in parts.

Some of the ideas were good... but bottom line? Show business.

Eurovision Song Contest....

2012-01-27T04:47:00.005+01:00

Is wacky season. There are ten songs in the running to represent Austria, and am posting the two I like from the radio 3 station on youtube... I think the following has a real chance... even if it's more than a bit disco, but whoever she is has a good voice... and it's a real mind fuck optically. Conchita Wurst. The other is so retro, but catchy, Crazy Swing, with a multi-culti group.

And oh yes, the third I really like because it makes me smile, and want to share it with Annti... she will know why. It's cute. And he looks so dorky '50's. And oh yes... these were clips of the auditions. Since then, professionals have been honing them into super performers, and what's on the radio is way more polished. But I like the freshness of the auditions, to tell the truth.

Whelp... here we go again...

2012-01-23T18:21:00.003+01:00

Sigh...

The only friend I have left here had to have surgery... one stent in an artery around his heart.

Can I throw a tantrum now and say I Hate Fate?`

I say friend, but am not sure.. our paths divurged so often for long periods of time... distance, mostly, personal things where I wasn't sure of any approval for what I was doing... but somehow, yes, we'd reconnect, and it was always fun, and as if little had happened meanwhile.

We sometimes worked closely and intensely together. I hung out the big English disciplinarian, polishng his papers, teaching him what I knew about how NOT to give a lecture and put people to sleep, to listen to reporters, how they punch up words, for instance. And him dragging me into a sound studio and do the english explanation of a procedure, with one sentence that was so horrible, I needed fifteen takes to get it right, a tongue twister. And the operation I was describing was... well, you need a strong stomach for it. It was for a presentation in the US.

Posssibly, my voice is still out there on that film. It was a cutting edge procedure, you should pardon the pun.

And he and his family have given me much over the years. So I was very consternated that this very talented surgeon ended up so stressed, he had to get a stent. And his wife has always sort of been the cement that kept us in touch.

As an aside, that Costa cruise we took? Peter invited them both to travel with us... but he couldn't get the time off, so she had ber best friend come instead... it was insanely funny. And his father blamed me for all sorts of things when he began having problems shortly thereafter. Which was absurd.

As a surgeon, well, there is a saying... doctors make the worst patients, but I called this evening, he sounds fine. It's raining in Salzburg... but when doesn't it. They only have 1oo days of sun per year on average, and I KNOW... I had my first bout with bronchitis there.

He sounded 'chipper' enough, which was a relief. He only got one stent. His wife said he complained that it really hurt. Peter got five in two operations. But never really complained. Imagine that. If Peter caught cold... it was the end of the world, on the other hand, and made everyone imagineable miserable. But an amputation? Nyeh... People can be hard to figure.

I had the radio on while I was messing around on line killing things and there was a lot of AC/DC, and hard rock, which made it fun optically. And I thought... wow, last time I heard this it was his fiftieth birfday bash, which was wild. Time does march on.

I hope he retires. I do. Before life retires him. Otherwise, the stress will kill him, and there are many other things I do not wish to broach here. He needs some rest. All the early carreer eighteen hour shifts, the resposibility of having to do things to post natal babies because something went wrong... that's a huge load to carry.

He had huge success, and has been a respected guest lecturer world-wide, and I do mean world-wide. I would think that stent would be a call to reconsider what his priorities are for his own health.

I noticed something different the past two calls... he has become introspective, just as Peter did when he got really sick. It was sort of chilling. Self-absorbed, I guess you would call it.

Maybe it was my imagination. But it wasn't something I would ever have wished for them, because his wife has been through much as well, and I like her very much.

Today is chinese new year, the year of the water dragon, which brings luck and happiness and wealth. They got the latter... I hope it will be the former two for them.

Annti can rest and breathe easily for a couple a days

2012-01-23T15:07:00.005+01:00

I hope she noticed... AHHNULD is in Austria at present. This is a very in-joke.. I met her one night, and she told me we have to take him back. In no uncertain terms. Except we couldn't because he has a double citizenship, which is only allowed from the Austrian side if you've done something to promote the image of the country abroad.

Riiiiggght.

I still don't care that he became governor of Kali-Fornicating-Four-Knee-Ya.... Didn't do so well, did he...

He was all over the media, lording it over the downhill race in Kitzbühel Tyrol, which is the most dangerous in the wurrld, and takes your breath away. Crazy arses skiing down a literal cliff. Chills and thrills. And yesterday in Burgenland inspecting a very upper edge research and development facility, telling them they were all 'Stars', he was so impressed. And has wanted to promote them for a long time in his new home state.

I hope he didn't elicit any firm sneakrets from them.

What drives me absolutely bonkers is that he can't speak anything correctly. In any language. And when he visits... his dialect is so awful, and grammatically incorrect, and bo-hunk DUMBED down, I have to keep thinking... 'who are his handlers?' because he can't really be that stupid. Just 'Schmäh', as they call it... I can't explain that one.

On the other hand... looking at the rethug line up of clowns this year... maybe he IS that dumb, but can sell it. It's telling that he isn't visiting his home town. We pissed him off royally, taking his name off the stadium. Add prima donna to the list, the womaniser.

So... Annti, did the bronchial passages free up a bit? (chuckle). Ours contracted.

and oh yes... the Moldavian mystery woman...

2012-01-20T23:28:00.001+01:00

who was on the bridge of the ship and is giving interviews... the captain wanted to show her the island, or something... gimme a break.

On profanity...

2012-01-20T21:21:00.009+01:00

Seemingly, lots happened this week... slept a lot... my heart was hurting.

However. There was a brouhaha about Little Lily on Modern Family using the F bomb, and some discussion about it. and a lot of blah blah. I really HATE that show, btw.

Now, Lawrence O'Donnell was right in making it an item in his show, 'The Last Word'. But missed the point entirely. Or nearly.

And believe me it gets trickier per language you acquire, and profanity should be the FIRST thing you learn, in my opinion, just so you don't inadvertantly insult someone you didn't mean to insult.

I learned that lesson very early at 23, working in the olympic village, and we were still in the training phase, had lots of time, and played cards, and told jokes and one evening got on the topic of 'what is the worst thing you can insult someone with in your language?' It was very instructive. Although I found the spanish ones the most shocking... mostly involving one's mother's genital areas... don't ask. Wiped my brain immediately. We were all multi-lingual, and in college, from all over the place.

But I'd had a run-in before as senior in high school. I used a word speaking with a girl I really liked and referred to someone as a 'schmuck'. She said, 'Do you KNOW what that means?' 'Well a jerk', I said. And she said no, and that in yiddish, it meant... well we'll get to that.

I turned bright scarlet and apologised and it seemed to calm the waters, but was friggin' embarassing.

Whatever, that evening in Munich was an eye-opener... some people are very creative with insults. And I inadverdantly did it again... told an egyptian I knew what the second worst insult in arabic was, had learned it from an army brat. He looked amused. Till I said it. But I knew what I was saying, and everyone else was being very horrific with things I had never imagined before. It meant, 'You are a male prostitute.' Hey, I was just adding to the conversation, but he was very, very offended. It wasn't like I was saying HE was.

I used to know the worst in arabic.. but I sort of erased it out of my memory.

Now, the sinking of the Concordia is still daily news here... big time. And it even got on the O'Donnell show. One aspect was that the Italians are suffering from low self esteem since Berlusconi, and there was this coast guard captain who got the captain of the ship on the horn, and yelled, 'Adesso commando IO', (Now I'M in command). Then 'Get back on board, 'CAZZO'.' And he became a hero when the tape was relased.' Tee-shirts immediately popped up all over the place with that quote. They were proud of someone who took charge and was adamant. There is a political agenda to that, referring to the government.

But there was the hitch on O'Donnel's show... he translated cazzo as 'dammit'. It isn't.

It means the same thing as 'schmuck' in yiddish. It means 'prick'.

Which is why I turned beet red after saying it in front of Susan in high school, and she told me what I'd said. Looking back, I wished I had had german in high school, because 'schmuck' in German means jewelry... if you pronounce it 'schmook'. Words are dangerous sometimes, in other words, and it would behoove anyone learning a language to learn the worst immediately... just so you can avoid being inadverdantly insulting... and a good tool if you want to be insulting.

For O'Donnell to do one of his re-writes, which I generally enjoy, and go ON about Lily in 'Modern Family' dropping the f-bomb... (the kid is four years old)...and explain that profanity is part of the culture now, and it is up to parents to explain when to use and avoid it, is commendable. But nearly in the same breath on the same show not to explain an italian word or make it harmless isn't doing anyone any good. Just imagine taking your kid to New Yawk, and the kid iuses the word thinking he or she is saying 'dammit'. NOT good. He could have easily circumvented it by saying it was to do with male genital anatomy.

I hate sanctimonious censorship.

This was our ship... and don' t let the perspective fool you, it is how they look upright

2012-01-15T11:13:00.003+01:00

It got retired last year. But have fond memories.
Standing on the top deck returning to Venice, it was like having a bird's eye view of the city and towered over any building except the campanile.... bell tower. It was awesome.

And YEAH, I can afford to be self-indulgent... it's MY blog.

Correction

2012-01-15T08:33:00.003+01:00

Oh my! Have to correct, it wasn't in the Adriatic, it was in the Tyrhennian sea on the other side. Tuscany has coasts on both oceans, so it must have been the route to Spain, and Portugal, and the Canary Islands. Those leave from Genoa.

ABC had petulant US tourists complaining that the crew was clueless, they hadn't been shown what to do in an emergency, etc. Having ridden that line... they usually depart at night, and the boat drill is on your first day out. Because you board late afternoons, and they let people settle in. So they had departed, there was the 'gala' first night dinner, and they ran aground. I don't think that would have been foreseeable.

And lots of bitching about how they couldn't lower the life boats... errm.... if it's down like that, can anyone tell me HOW?

The pictures are misleading. There was land about 300 yards away. Too close to the coast.

I LURRVED the quote... 'It was like the Titanic... without the water.' Oh please, horrible as it is,reallah?

Just an update...the proportions of this photo don't do it justice. It is three football fields long, hey.

And just spoke with someone I know who had travelled on the Concordia... he concurs with me that the life boat drills would have been the next morning. And seeing the cabin he and his wife had is under water didn't make him exactly 'happy'.... but he's having a catheter shoved up in his heart tomorrow to get stents... maybe. So he was sort of being self-indulging and afraid, although he's a doctor. Who make the worst patients EVAH. I went through that too with Peter, so I could be reassuring. Except it is the shits. Peter doesn't remember being on our Costa Riviera... he just thought it was a terrible accident. So he is far away in his head.

Looks like the gloves are coming off....

2012-01-15T06:08:00.002+01:00

The latest news here is that the latest move by Standard and Poor's is a concentrated attack on the Euro... a suspicion I voiced a week ago. They reduced the credit rating of several EU countries, including France, which sort of acts like an umbrella to protect the EURO.

So what are WE hearing? Oh yeah, everyone is gonna haveta cut some more on their decadent socialist lifestyles (HA), and they'll have to make even more cuts to reduce deficits.

What I wanna know now is... WHO are these people, and who are they affiliated with? Ten will get you half a dozen they are locked into the vulture rethug political thinking that they can force their friggin philosophy on, and blackmail half the world into doing what they want.

Interesting times.... I think I will do some digging.

Ironically, the other two big rating companies like Fitch and Moody's haven't made any such move either in the US or elsewhere. This is seemingly a singular attack by S and P. I am SO tired of asshole 'Murkins pushing their shit onto us. Time for a push back....

Especially when the EU countries are already doing draconian cuts to their budgets.

´Hmmm... I can't figure this one out at all....

2012-01-15T05:34:00.002+01:00

And it probably got very little coverage in the US, but yesterday a cruise ship ran into a cliff in the Toscana in Italy. And some people died. Which is very weird to me, because I have traveled with that company, and just can't imagine how that could have happened.

This was one of the company's very large ones, with over four thousand passengers. And some very dumb people jumped overboard... it must have been a real mess. And some guy had a heart attack, of course... not hard to figure, since a lot of oldies are usually on board.

Peter booked one for us one year when he was still half-way able to do long trip... he thought. And since he got a two-for-one deal... of COURSE he invited two other people to travel with us, and share some of the 'joy'. We became sort of notorious on that cruise, but all that is beside the point.

After our wonderful trip which was frustrating because he had a foot crisis and had to stay on board, but was wonderful anyway. We always said after that that if we did it again, the ship would have to be much smaller. It was already too much like a middle sized city, although it never felt crowded.

Little did I know that one day years later I'd be on a sailboat that slept six and travel half the adriatic sea on it, with everyone pitching in and sailing it. That was even more fun.

But am digressing. Am only writing, because I KNOW that company, and I know the routes. It makes no sense to me. Their first priority was passenger safety, and one of the first things was life-boat drill... have the pictures to prove it. And in Crete, did the crew get land-leave for the day? No, they were out doing practice drills lowering the lifeboats, and it was obvious they were extremely conscientious, which was a reassuring thing to observe.

Now there is a very tricky strait when they approach Corfu, and if it happened there, I'd sort of understand how that could happen. It's very narrow, and we entered it at sunrise back then. One of the most quiet, beautiful things I have ever experienced. We had Corfu on the one side, and Albania on the other, each so close it was amazing. Some things are unforgettable in life.

However, the latest news report says it happened near an island off the tuscany coast, and the captain maintains there were underwater cliffs that were not chartered on the maps. Hmmm.. possible.

On the sailboat junket, I really learned to lurv the sonar... and there were lots of sudden shallows that might have been dangerous...

Still.. it really seems odd.

I guess shit happens to even the best.

On Media....

2012-01-15T01:00:00.003+01:00

Since the first of the year.... have had the radio on a lot. Since the tee-vee doesn't work. And have done a lot of listening, but not so much of the mind-numbing variety.

Austrian radio has three national stations. We have to pay a fee for them every two months. And for the tee-vee as well. Ostensibly, this was to stop them from having advertising, and remaining independent of vested interests. Except, well, they started sneaking in blocks of commercials between shows on television, for instance, and and the news blocks started getting shorter and shorter, and more superficial compared to the incisive sort of reporting they used to be. This has led to a lot of criticism, which sort of comes and goes in waves, usually when it's time to elect another 'impartial' director of the networks.

Radio sort of went the same way, with only one station truly maintaining an impartial and educationally valuable agenda once restrictions were dropped, and private stations began taking over the airwaves. And most of the stations suddenly became a mindless potpourri of trivial crap with most of them playin the same flavour of the day music. Except some have an emphasis on hits from the 80's or classic rock, or the 90's, interspersed with mind-numbing things like someone named Katy Perry, who seems to be getting divorced, which is supposed to make her juvenile meanderings more interesting. Or something. Had never heard of her, nor did I want to, in retrospect.

So... there are three national stations. There's the rock and pop schlock one, which used to have some moderators who were actually funny, only to be replaced with a current crop who have no grounding in reality. Case in point? Make a big deal of all the wealthy people being 'cut off from civilisation' in the west of the country over the horridays. In places like St. Anton, where Princess Di took her sons skiing a few times, which is how 'everyday people' that place is. And others like it. But the thing is... they get snowed in every year, so why the drama? They alre always pampered, And there were the usual traffic jams of people trying to get back home before January sixth, which was the official end of said horridays. Again... not really news. But these dunderheads made it into drama, and what came across was that 'EVERYONE' had been on holiday. Odd, in that there were enough worn faces and people trudging wearily about their business out on the square, and they obviousy hadn't been skiing. It smacks of a certain elitism.

The second is a regional station... so you get a lot of oldies from the Seventies with a sprinkling of really good Austrian artists... and yes Virginia, there used to be a lot of them who got loads of air time but do not any more. And a lot of unlistenable stuff where the schmalz runs out of your ears, or you get dumbed down. But it's good for local news with a sort of bonus of 'the weird story of the day', like the sixty year old woman who got accidently locked in her wc for two days before someone heard her calls for help, and they could break her out of there. Turned out the door handle had been installed wrong. Did they go ON? Yup. It's good for local traffic reports and weather, but hardly anything I enjoy.

And then there is the one that still really fulfills what had been intended in the first place. Still no advertising, and classical music mixed with some very amazing things. The evening news journal is still one full hour of real information and in-depth analysis without too much slant. There are really interesting interviews with notable and remarkable people. And there is something called the radio college, with sort-of lectures on a huge range of topics, such as a nature one, which explains an animal a week. Sounds weird, but isn't. This past week was about the increase in the population of wild boars in Europe over the past few decades, how they live, how they propogate... such as learing that they run in matriarchal groups, for instance, and the males are loners. And how, thanks to man, they have propogated out of control, and are encroaching on cities and towns now, and are incredibly smart. Or a full week covering the seeds of the so-called Arab Spring, and really getting into how and why it all happened. So most of it is very interesting and entertaining... although there was one on architecture that was so abstruse and incomprehensible, I switched over to Katy Perry for a while. (smile) And there is lots of classical music, live transmissions of terrific concerts you would never have the money to attend, and discussions of new books, new films, and best of all, no advertising. It's a terrific mix. Which is why I still don't mind having to pay a bi-monthly fee for listening.

So did opening up the airwaves to private stations provide anything positive? Tja... if you call dumbing people down a good thing, I suppose they did. And if you think constant advertising is bearable. Which reminds me... am surprised that slogans or 'branding' of businesses are still using the worn out ones that were fresh and funny thirty years ago or so. It gets sort of tiring, at least to me.

The one thing the three had in common this weekend? The second of shock that lasted thirty six hours when Standard and Poor's took away Austria's triple A+ credit rating on Friday in a sneak attack, as well as downgrading many other EU countries. Just like they did to the US after the jerks in congress played chicken with Obama on raising the debt ceiling. This was a real blow to the national psyche, as people are proud of their international standing. And I have some preliminary thoughts on this development, but am waiting for more info before I go and spout off... which I certainly will do.

One thing running on the pop station that I love... came out in November and is currently nearly on a loop here... the late Amy Winehouse.

And oooo... a step toward gender equality here... only not like you think...

2012-01-09T21:53:00.001+01:00

The train company has set men and women as equals in getting a senior citizen pass for their services. Which means you only pay half price and there are some time related restrictions, but HEY, progress.

Women were entitled at sixty. Men had to be sixty five.

I got one for my Dad when he visited... it sure helped, paying half-fare to Salzburg and Vienna.

So now I can pay 26 Euros, provide a horrible picture to go on the damned thing, and I get to ride the rails at half price.

And to be precise... men have had to work longer than women till eligible for pension, and they don't live as long, So I thought it was nice... sort of.

What came to mind was a play I saw where this dotty woman says, 'You don't know what I WENT through till I got him under the ground.'

Got a huge laugh.

Sometimes socialism has it's perks.

Things I heard on the news, hey...

2012-01-09T20:34:00.004+01:00

Local and national....

Whelp, the coalition government.. actually TALK to one another... although the conservative cathlick party will NOT raise any taxes... wonder where they got THAT from... can we really try reeeeeally hard and exercise our brain muscles?

Which aren't a real thing, I will admit.

And OH, joy, Hungary is going bankrupt, Greece is going bankrupt, and the EU is congtemplating de-coupling them from the Euro, except Hungary never accepted that currency, and still has the forint, which is now worth... nada.

Now, Hungary got a HUGE infusion of investment monies from the US when the Iron Curtain ceased to exist over twenty years ago, and boy, they got their financial fingers in many pies and projects. So why now?

I think I have an answer, although it sounds totally paranoid. They hated that the Euro became more valuable than the dollar. Hated it. So, let's just imagine, if you were an investment banker, and a 'Murkin, what would you do? Right, kill it. But here you have Goldman Sachs tanking Greece by selling them junk bonds, and too early to say what the hell they did in Hungary... and Italy, where they gov't is always corrupt, as its's a way of life there, and what the hell happened in Spain?

Yup, am paranoid, but I know a rat when I smell it.

And of course, they will play on national animosities to cover their tracks, am sure.

And yes, that is cynical, but the only thing that makes sense at the moment.

There is a lot of reporting on this... except no one digs into the question 'WHY?' 'HOW?' 'WHO?' 'WHEN'?' Journamalism is in a sorry state.. So it is presented a sort of miracle, hey.. pfui.

These thoughts aren't proveable, nor did I go digging... just gut instinct.

So let's go to some fun news. Now every year, 'everyone' goes skiing between Dec 26th and Jan 6th... if you listen to the radio. 'They are so far out of reality, it's pitiful.

And EVERY year, there's a snowstorm out west, and the most coveted, beautiful ski resorts get snowed in and cut off from civilisation, and it's all the schlock stations blather on about.

And they get stranded and can't get back to work, the poor things....

The only stranding I ever got was in Venice... got up one morning in a hotel room to die for, note under the door... 'don't come down, breakffast will be delivered to your room, we're under water.' Hokay.. I used to kid Peter there... 'do you ever get this 'sinking' feeling?'

Well, there were high winds, and the highways in and out were snowed under, no access, and so on, but they always act as if it were something new.

'Today they did something seemingly unprecedented. When there is that much snow, the trees along the highway get overburdened with the weight of the snow on the branches, you see... And they can break, fall into the lanes, and cause accidents, so the roads get closed.

Today they sent out helimacopters, yup. They went all along the highways very low, and the downdraft knocked all the snow off the branches, seemingly. I doubt it was very safe for them to do that... but interesting.

We have a saying... emergencies make for innovation... sort of like that.

Sort of ... if you're in trouble, you get creative.

Who would have thought helicopters could be so useful, hey.

There were the usual tragedies, of course. A four year old boy got a car dropped on his head.. that was the lead.. He was just playing near his dad, who was working on his car, had jacked it up, and it slipped off the jack, and crushed the kid's head. I wouldn't like to be in his shoes... that was local

In Veinna, a 17 year old snapped and knifed his mother and grandmother and then tried killing himself. Except help came and they stopped them and wth women are still in critical condition. That sort of thing can be national news here, can you believe it?

AAANNND.. as you know, I lurvs me some Desperate Housewives, amd have ofthen thought some of the story lines were way beyond believable, but TODAY? One of them became true as gold, hey.

Some guy got caught having stored his deceased wife in a freezer so he could keep on collecting her pension. Seemingly, someone noticed and did some whistle blowing. I believe he got about 100,000 Euros illegally doing that. Nice sum. And it cracked me up, because it was a story line in that series. Life imitates art, hey.

Well, in the series, the woman had her husband in a freezer. But didn't get penalized. THIS guy? Could face up to five years in prison.

And WHY, please, aren't we seeing anyone going to prison for tanking half a continent? Accountablility only ever is for the bottom two thirds of any given country, I guess. Why am I disgusted?

New Hampshire what the hell happened?

2012-01-06T10:37:00.002+01:00

Unsettling news from Rachel.... it begins at 3:33

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Pointless question of the day

2012-01-05T23:19:00.004+01:00

The president of Greece is begging for monetary help by March, or the country will be kicked out of the EU.

And telling his people they have to buckle down.

Uh-huh....

I have a suggestion for him. Why doesn't he sue Goldman Sachs for defrauding his country to the point of bankruptcy, and want to know... why aren't the people who bought the worthless bonds and sent them there in jail?

I could ask the same about the US and those on Wall Street, but ... yeah, pointless.

Seeds of acquiesence.......

2012-01-05T22:51:00.002+01:00

Just had a flash-back.... shortly after arriving in my new home...

So way, waay back.

And there was one of the greatest chancellors and governments EVAH. Socialists, oooooooo...

And shortly after I arrived, there was excitement in the familiy I was staying with till I got on my feet and found my way to a job and a singular existence. Because, you see, the new government had made a law that all school books were to be distributed free of charge. This would alleviate inequality, Because, you see, till then everyone had to buy them for their children, they were expensive, and the not so wealthy bought used ones, which led to discrimination in school classes, and everyone knew who was 'poor'. Among other things.

And the whole family was around the table discussing it, what a sudden boon it was, and allevieating their budgets.

I thought it was very good news... and disconcerted that until then, they'd had to buy books at all, because we'd never had to until college level. And then hoo-boy, the prices for some extremely dry tomes were sky-high, even in the 60's.

Well, there were seeds of rebellion in me even then. And a tendency to put my foot in my mouf.

And I said, 'T'hat's wonderful news, but is gonna cost the government a real fortune. So why are they giving the children of wealthy people free books? They can afford them.'

They were bloody scandalised. Oh no, they said, you can't do that... it would ruin it for the rest of us.

And that is the seed... someone gives you a break in one respect, you let them walk all over you in others, and be thankful for whatcha get, hey.

At the time, I lived in another part of the city, would pick up the International Herold Tribune on the way to work, which had ten pages, and was mostly stock market listings, but Art Buchwald and a few other things lasted me till I got to work. And one article that was so libellous regarding my city, I went to a person I knew, press secretary of the worker's guild, and said, 'You have to DO something.' Turned out to be a disgruntled opera singer from 'Murka, hubby was a journalist, she wasn't getting the roles she wanted, so he did a hatchet job in a paper that is read daily by all ex-pats in Europe. She got fired, and his career was over. Good so.

Sorry, sidebar there... The tobacconist used to rant and rail about the government and all of the parties, and especially about the local mentality.... 'Obrigkeitshörigkeit.' Kow-towing or bowing and scraping to the powers that be, loosely translated.

And that reaction to my suggestion? Was Obrigkeitshörigkeit. (Doesn't German have some lovely long words, hey...)

I'm wondering... when is the Occupy idea finally gonna take hold here, while something can really be DONE that is constructive.... Tja.

Ummmmmm.. Rick Sanatorium? Really?

2012-01-04T14:12:00.003+01:00

and I call him that because he belongs in one... good gawwd... the guy is certifiable and has some sort of trauma regarding gays, and his propagating endlessly, and his weirdness... he needs some professional help.

And his professional ethics were bad enough for him to lose his senate seat.

Iowa? On my never visit list. They are bat-shit crazy.

And Romney? I don't know if it is just me, but have you ever really listened to him? I mean, really listened? That stacatto, that uncertainty, the backpeddling talking fast and nearly incoherent? Reminds me of a kid having been caught doing something he shouldn't have.

Well... am keeping one new year's resoluton...

2012-01-04T12:43:00.003+01:00

in that I listen to more local news on the radio... and have to open my eyes very wide at what is going on.....

More on that in a minute.

The Hungarians have seemingly gotten what would be most likely one of Rick Snyder's wet dreams... what he intstituted as governor of Michigan got enacted for the entire country of Hungary. And that in their constitution, yet!

Snyder overrides city elected officials by appointing robber barons.... errrm... 'emergency managers' for cities that aren't doing well. Or for cities that have public lands rich people want to build on but were gifts to the city for everyone to use 'in perpetuity'... which no longer means forever, seemingly.

So uhhhh... these robber barons... errm... emergency managers... go in to a city they target... which will most likely lean to voting for democrats, and they basically shut out the elected officials, and act on whatever their munificent benefactors wish. And the officials like the mayor and city council who were ELECTED, remain as such in name only, have no say in any matter, and are virtually powerless.

So what's that do do with Hungary? Well they had elections, and an extreme right party got the majority in parliament, and the chancellor, so they did a Scott Walker, and overnight, slipped a provision into the constitution installing a new sort of official. And HIS duty is... he can veto anything the parliament passes if the powers that be don't like it. After a democratic passing of any bill... the guy can nix it.

Same principle, Preciousses.

Although far worse, actually... it's taking Snyder's ruse to a new level.

So for the New Year on the first, tens of thousands of Hungarians arose to protest in Budapest, and are outraged.

I've seen no local headlines, have no tee-vee, but there was one good ten minute coverage of it on our most reputable radio station, and I thought, 'Whoa!'

I mean, they're our next door neighbors, one of them...

The Socialists refuse to bargain with the conservatives, who are in the minority and whining about it... much like the rethugs.

And the conservatives? Well they got them some big idears, all right. Wanting to go after the unions, who are strong, much in the way it started in the US, and I KNOW they take their playbook from over there. Right now it's , 'well they're gonna have to sacrifice something too.'

Unemployment is lowest in the EU... 4.6 %. Which is good.

And the progressives came up with an idear.... we all get 14 salaries a year. Two in June for vacation time, and two at the beginning of December, for the horridays. I know I'm not alone in saying it would have been better to just distribute that throughout the year with better salaries, but people sort of depend on those two 'windfalls', so the monthly earnings were lower. They always win in the end, hey...

The progressives would like to eliminate the two extra salaries for the topmost income bracket... after all, they are wealthy, so it isn't as if they NEED it, right?

The conservatives reaction was the personification of indignance. But hey, the public workers, and unions? They can sacrifice something, ya know?

Sound FAMILIAR?

I've always said, whatever crap idear the rethugs there have, it finds it's way here in a heartbeat. That's why they are called international conglomerates, they pipe them the tune to sing.

Otherwise, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Lots of injuries to young people via fireworks... and one kid misjudged the time, or it was defective and got him in the head. And he died. 18 years old, and this is why I've always thought the damned things should be banned for personal use, but, hey they make millions and millions on em.

A former minister is involved in a scandal... laundering money and tax evasion for starters which evinced a yawn from me. What else is new, hey?

Last night a four family house caught fire in Melk... but the firemen had to wait for a herpetologist before they could go in to fight it... because, you see, one of the tenants told them there was a terrarium full of venomous vipers in the basement, where it started. And snake man had to round them up before they could do their job. There were seven of them and the largest was five feet long. ewww Snakes in the Cellar!, hey.

Another guy in Vienna turned on the gas in a four-party house on New Years Eve... supposedly a suicide attempt and he sorta made sure everyone else was out. It blew up. Reason? His girlfriend had dumped him. That he made three families homeless? Na ja...

I 'think' he died... not sure, but if not, he should have.

So... we're four days into the New Year, and everyone was 'oh, it's such a time of optimism', to which I shocked them and replied 'Bullshit'. And yeah, all the bills to be adjusted are coming in, and of course you pay more for everything. As if that were new. What I did not like was the tone when the radio told me us pensioners are gonna get about thirty euros more a month. Sort of whadda we need it for anyway snark, and its LOTS.. uh-huh.

Well my rent just went up thirty-FIVE, so what, I'm supposed to do a Snoopy dance, or something? Because it's only five???? And won't even discuss how the heating cost rose. Oh yeah, lots to be optimistic about. Peter will get more gaga, and I really can't think how anything would make me look on the bright side at present.

So... that's a widening of the news front, but as you see... what happens there is happening here as well, as long as the politicians can get away with it. I usually listen in the morning ´while slaughtering orks, and shaking my head lots. If anyone were to see me from outside, they'd think I have Parkinson's.

Boy, Peter sure gets around, hey...

2012-01-01T16:02:00.003+01:00

I just called to wish him Happy New Year. The usual crap. He said he'd seen the New Year's concert yesterday on a German station yesterday.

I said, I wondered how they did that, as it was today and is a live broadcast. He said he was sort of surprised himself.

I was thinking, 'maybe they did broadcast an older one last night, and he thought it was this year's.'

Then came: 'I was in Tokyo last night.'

'Oh, you watched the ball fall in Japan on the tee-vee? '

'No, I was there... with a small group of people.'

'Oh. How was it?'

'I can't say I really liked it much....'

The rest was a catastrophe.

At least he's travelling... although he doesn't like it much and is sad...

Next thing I know he'll tell me how he was in Disney World.... and got back in time for dinner.

Assuming the best, he probably saw these shows they have where every hour hour so, it's New Year's on the television, then dreamed about it and thinks it's real.

I need to get some air, smoked too much and my eyes are leaking. Or something like that.

Yeahhhhh... Happy friggin' New Year RenB...

Well new year's begun, all right.....

2012-01-01T14:52:00.005+01:00

I listened to our New Year's Day concert... it was above average with some rarities in it.

And got to thinking about Strauss, and taking my cousins to see 'Die Fledermaus' in Vienna, which I tried to explain beforehand. It's operetta, the forerunner of musicals. And it is viciously funny, and a satire on the hypocrisy of the upper middle class in Vienna around the 1890's or so. And couples acting sanctimoniously upright.... but fooling around on the side... or trying to.

Although they don't understand German, I figured there'd be enough sight gags to amuse them, and of course, there's that wonderful music. And when you have part the Vienna Philharmonic orchestra playing... well, it really doesn't get any better or more Austrian than that, hey.

Whatever, all the subterfuge and deceit gets revealed in the third act. Which is a doozy... as we used to say. And a big part of that is a still very drunk and confused jailor named Frosch...(frog). It's a huuuge role, even though it seemed to be written as an afterthought, and for a comedian... it's red meat, Preciousses, and a very few do it so well, tja... to flip out over. Fortunately, the production we saw had one of the most talented and funny ones I've ever seen. And from the minute he came on, my cousins were doubled over laughing, because the body language was unlike any Frosch I'd seen before. People near us had heard us talking, so instead of watching the stage, they were watching us to see how they would react... and I'd whisper one of his zingers in english to them, and they were off.

Later they told me they'd gone to see an english version of it somewhere in the Northeast, and said, 'NOW we know what we were laughing about.' So guess it impressed them. It was a beautiful production.

Sometimes, some opera houses perform it on New Year's Eve, and have guest stars for the party scene, and it goes on for hours. But just alone, it's remarkable.

Since they played one of the comprimised overtures in the concert this morning, I thought I'd go looking for something, as a remembrance, and that piece really is part of New Year's in Austria. I couldn't find anything of the production we saw, which was highly praised. Found no Frosch worth posting.

But the Met seemingly had a stunning production, and found a culmination scene of the third act, where the truth starts to unravel. Great voices, but what else would you expect of the Met, hey. Dialogue in English, and subtitles for the music. What isn't in there is that everyone ends up happy, and blames it all on the champagne.. The party scene had songs and a philosophy that you would hear any local person quote some time or another. Most importantly, 'happy is he who forgets what can't be changed.' Think about it a minute. Or the host, the russian Prince Orlovsky, who is decadent, and often sung by women in drag. 'I bore myself and invite my guests to amuse myself, and what bores me isn't allowed. With my guests, it's chacun a son gout... sorry, my keyboard doesn't have the french accents... 'to each his own', in other words. Agnes Baltsa did it in a moustache.

A New Year, a new beginning... however you wanna see it...

2012-01-01T01:40:00.003+01:00

I wish everyone a good one, so HAPPY NEW YEAR.

I was one of the few people on-line, with Lady Shurkins, Zack, Grandpa Simpson, and a few others, and we had a whale of a time running our moufs about how obnoxious the fireworks were.

And what people might have done better with all that money instead of shooting it in the air for a few seconds of 'oh, pretty, colors, lights!'

It was a fun bitch-fest.

For the past three days people have had their pets on valium, because they go bonkers over all the fireworks, cherry bombs, firecrackers and what not. And that is not a joke, they put them on valium to keep them half-way calm.

Milady and I had a nice private discussion. Very friendly, full of good wishes.

So here we still are... 2012. Shhheeee-it.

Am certain it won't be much better for me, but I do wish it will be spectacular for all those who land here and read this. I wish you all everything good.

So yeah, Happy New Year.

And someone bless us one and all, etc. etc.

hmmm... adolescent heartbreak

2011-12-30T21:58:00.004+01:00

Tonite... a guild member said it had been a looonnnnnng day for him.

Everyone took the bait, of course. His girlfriend had just dumped him... per sms. 'But we can still be friends.'

And everyone jumped in, and started offering consolation and advice..

He said he would go out and get blind drunk tomorrow... and there were about fifteen people who strongly advised him to forget it... wouldn' help. I was one of them.

He likes my new rogue... Wilde Wanda, thought the name was cooool. I said it was a real person back in the 70's because she always beat up on the police, so I thought it was fitting... which he found even cooler. I told her I'd met her once, and that she'd been nice, actually....

I didn't tell him that she was Vienna's only female pimp, and was notorious. And I did meet her... she checked into the hotel, hiding from the cops. The criminal police came and checked our books and she was in there, but they overlooked it, and Peter and I didn't rat her out. She was sort of a rebel hero, and great fodder for the newspapers... besides which.... she'd have torn us limb from limb... smile.

So this kid... goes by the name 'Grandpa Simpson'... and plays it badass. Thank you, Simpsons, for giving shining examples to young people all over the wuurrrld.

Turns out he's only fifteen.

When he signed off, he said thank you, he felt like he'd found 'fambly' in the guild.

And they really are very nice.

It was an interesting look into the minds of an adolescent with raging hormones.... seemingly... who got hurt.

A global every day story.

People aren't really so different wherever you go. Being so comfortable to break up per cell phone message? How tacky. I was just about to add 'in MY day...' and realised... I got oooolld.

smile.

wish to clarify something...

2011-12-29T17:46:00.003+01:00

My darlin'---- aka Annti... wrote that she liked something I'd written on my wall on Facebook, and I haven't written anything there since shortly after my birfday... Because I am not a fan of Facebook, never have been. I only check once in a very great while to see how some of my relatives are doing.

So I'm not certain what she saw there.

But I wish to clarify something here and now. She said to get my head out of my butt... well she said to come out of my role playing game on-line, and get to work.

She has never known the effect of what the high horridays can do to you over here, so wasn't offended. You tune out, mostly... and y'know what? So does the media, mostly.

It's as if the world stopped, or something.

As to playing... for me it isn't ABOUT the game at all, really... not really. Oh, it's 'pretty' and gruesome, and I get some 'fun' out of it, no doubt about it. Amazing graphics, and thank whomever on high.. no SOUND.

It replaced something I'd been very much missing over the past three years.... contact with people. At my work, every day was an adventure. The door would open, and I might meet one of the most amazing people on the planet. Or they might be just boring. But it was always fulfilling, and I made the most wonderful contacts with my guests. Ones that went beyond just catering to their wishes... really long terrific discussions, and knowing about who they were, their histories, what they were disappointed about in their lives, what they hoped for, history above all.

The job may not have paid well, but for me.... it was damned enriching.

And I miss 'my' guests. Very much. It is difficult to go from having a day filled with adventures to a day of more or less complete hermitness. And though I LIKE solitude mostly... I miss the possibilities of just meeting people who can blow your mind, engage you in new thoughts and passionate discussions, and learn things.... even if you disagree with them.

You can take a rainy night in November 1976, for example, and this man walks in, big classic renaissance head from a painting, and in a cheap plastic raincoat... or sort of a coverall, don't know what to call it. It was pitiful looking. And I thought, 'Oh, some farmer from the boonies.'

Well to check in to a no-tell ho-tel, you have to show ID. And he gave me a German passport. And in it stood 'The Prince von Schaumburg zur Lippe'. And I thought... oh boy, how do I ADRESS this man? Oh well, I'm 'Murkin, will stick to 'you' in the polite form or avoid it altogether.'

And by the way... the Austrian nobility lost their right to carry their titles on offical documents after WWI. The Germans didn't. It's a difference.

Turns out he was the most modest man I have ever met, and was a yearly visitor for nearly thirty years. And one of the richest men in Germany. But with take a room without an inside bath. Till we had no more. He was an engineer, and was always here for train transport conventions. And I got to know him as much as he was willing to open himself up. Fascinating.

See what I mean? Every day an adventure, hey. And then? Dullsville. Oh, I did manage to get myself messed about with some colorful people getting Peter the care he needed, but now? I see two to three people every day, and it is automaton city... get your snigarettes, get a bit of food, get your arse home. That is it.

So playing the game is sort of a substitute, and is never about the game at all.
It's about the uncertainty of who you might meet in a small group, or a chat, or just 'so'. And can be bloody amazing.

I read a study result report about lying on-line. People are less likely to do that. It's anonymous, and sometimes without warning, they will talk to you so openly, it leaves me spitless.

And THAT is what interests me most about it, or I'd have given up on it months ago. It's the personal contact.

So no, haven't got my head up my arse... just found a bit of something to replace what was taken from me so brutally.

And still find the time to check on the news and the usual things I look at, only you know what? Lately everyone has been so disgusting to me... I end up not wishing to comment at all.
So am not running away from reality... just curious about who I meet next, and what the hell comes out of their fingers, writing in private chats.
Hardly escaping reality, I assure you.

Tja, kiddies...

2011-12-29T16:05:00.002+01:00

I'd forgotten to relate this one.....

I found an angel in Peter's room.... crayon colored, gold foil wings... cute.

So I asked, 'Hey, you got a girlfriend? What's with the angel?'

He didn't know what I was taling about. So I showed him the 'damning evidence'.

He said, 'Oh, I made that with ths grade school girl. She wrote my mane on the back. Boy she's got a lot to learn.'

I turned it over, and the kid wrote it in blue crayon like she says it: 'Peta'. I have the photos to prove it, as John used to say...

On the one hand, I fell apart laughing. On the other? Is our children learning?

And I was FLOORED. Peter and grade school kids? Of ALL the things they offer, he got roped into that? He always pretended he didn't like children. But he did, actually, if they were someone else's and polite... which you don't see a lot of too often nowadays.

When the upstairs neighbors, the nice ones had two in succession, I was glad... little feet pattering about in a year or so, and something to bake to put in their school lunchboxes.

Peter was irate.

Just goes to show, hey. Elias, the oldest, was the funniest. Without wanting to be. He was four or so, and Peter had had his third amputation, and it was the first day I could take him outside.

He was in the hall, and saw what was missing. And he said, 'OH, poor Mr. P. He broke his leg, he's much to be pitied.'

Yup....

He broke his leg, hey. Amazing how little ones process what they see. Actually, I thought it was hilarious.

Huh... Peter doing crafts with grade school kids...

How far away can you get from reality?

I just wrote something difficult... and realised that women can be stalkers too

2011-12-29T13:50:00.001+01:00

I wrote a lonnng letter to Peter's aunt. Stuff that she needn't know, but deserves to. She went through the same thing with her husband, after all, so it won't be as if she doesn't understand... she just might not want to. 9o or not, she needs to know, it's her only nephew.

I didn't write them over Christmas... I was still digesting my visit on the 2oth. Hell, I didn't write a lot of people I should have written.

Buuut... the year is ending... and you know what? That's when the ghosts of your past come if you pause and reflect. And I have nothing but time these days... trying NOT to pause and reflect, because it can be painful.

And you think of the past, and the present, and sort of look to what you can do in the future to make what you don't like different.

And as per usual, there are impatient little ASSHOLES who are already shooting off fireworks all over the place. And it isn't even Sylvester, New Year's Eve, which here is named after some saint who met a grisly death... which should surprise no one.

And people come to mind who I haven't talked about, and Bill and Marion are so in my thoughts of late... will come to them later.... but not this post.

Except for one thing... whenever they came over, before they decided... it would be in the night when they were alone, and Bill would turn over and ask Marion, 'How about going for a Krainer on the Hauptplatz?' And then she knew they would be travelling again to see us here.

A Krainer is a spicy sausage you can eat at stands, with mustard and horse radish, if you want it even spicier. A local specialty. Bill was such a romantic... lol.

And it triggered a memory I hadn't thought of in ages. A swishy Swiss guy, who really had it in for me. I was young and half-way attractive... ONCE...

I was on night shifts, and it was a reign of terror, hey, what he did. And he'd go up to retire for the night, so he said, and I'd sit on the sofa to rest my eyes, but then I'd hear him coming down, and quickly got to my desk and running the calculator... and he'd be disappointed, and say, 'Oh, aren't you going to sleep?'

'Uh, no... I'm sort of working, and have the bookkeeping and statistics to do.'

Crestfallen.... 'Oh, that's too bad'.

Uh-huh.

So I had my day off, no bothersome Swiss tse-tse fly, and had to do something downtown, was always, always in a hurry, and hear:

'Yoo-HOO!'

He was at .... Bill and Marion's Wurstelstand. Invited me to come eat with him... ooooooo, a Dinner Date, hey!

I was having MUCH better ones with my late first infatuation Hellmut. Who is also dead now... funny how that works. At least those dates were top-notch, even though he was very messed up in his head. The newest good movie, the best restaurants... he knew about romance, but was very very confused. Like... he had this girlfriend, Gaby, who was elegant and all Hermés... oooo.

And I sort of waved, away from me, and yelled, 'No TIME, sorry!'

So Swiss Guy... went and cried on Peter's shoulder, which we used to laugh about so much. It was early, and we weren't together yet.

And being a total flamer, Swiss guy said 'and then he went, like THIS!' and gave a grand sweeping gesture of pushing away... as in GRAND gestrure of sweeping him away.

He was incensed... He'd invited me to 'dinner', after all.

Errrmmmm... I don't think I would have much enjoyed it.

I think I understand what women feel getting unwanted attention. Got it from the other side as well. Aggressive women hitting on a young man. 'Whaddaya say we go out to the tour bus next door, and make for some 'high-life?' In German, very attractive forty-something lady on a tour.

'Ummmmm errrr... I have to stay in here, I'm responsible for everyone in the house.'

'You know what they say, Dienst ist Dienst and Wurst ist Wurst'. If something is wurst to you, in German, it means it doesn't matter, just do it. And Dienst means duty... figure it out.

And I said, 'No, sorry, I hope you understand.' She was miffed, but dignified... and in her cups.

Or the celebrated Irish authoress Edna who wanted me to come to her hotel room and ply me with a lot of whiskey after having had a very long discussion about Catholicism of the Irish Jesuit brand.. took a lot to weasel out of that one without hurt feelings.

But the worst, the absolute worst... was a janitoress who had the big cinema below to clean, and I had the upstairs one. She had to be Hulk Hogan's lost sister, only really not attractive in any way, and she hit on me more times than I can count. Unlike the others, I had to see her nearly every day. A Valkyrie with an industrial vaccuum cleaner, hey...

One night she said, 'I don't care HOW long it takes... I'm going to HAVE you!'

'FORGET it, why cant'cha?'

The lady in the bus? Might have been a nice experience, if I'd thought I could handle it... no strings, just lust... if I'd had it.

The authoress? No... I was in awe of her.

The janitoress? She scared the bejeebus out of me.

The men?.... it was easier. I knew where they were coming from and could deflect it.

I really doubt that men talk about being stalked by women as a rule, but in my experience, they can be.

It's why I do not like men who think they are god's gift to the world, and act insanely agressive toward women... except women do it too... some of them.

So the Swiss 'yodeling dodel'? Fell into the janitoress category. Dodel means fool, btw.

Invite to dinner at the Hauptplatz, and at the very stand that was the reason for Bill and Marion to come over for a visit?

No, Preciousses... it would have been a desecration of a sacred spot.

So here we are... the only silent night this country ever sees, and a three-day horriday...

2011-12-24T14:21:00.004+01:00

We're already just about on lock-down as a nation... a few hold outs to get more money out of buyers, but... in forty-five minutes this place is gonna look like everyone died and the dead stillness will be overwhelming.

I did my shopping.... three days of nothing to be had otherwise.... and was on-line getting 'presents' from my game. They are doing an 'event'. Lots more loot when you kill things, and then sell what they drop. I could also turn my horse Estella into a reindeer, but I wouldn't do that to the poor dumb creature.

And since I declared myself the guild grinch... and everyone was ooooo.... Merry Christmas, I was all, 'oh yeah, happy horridays you guys.'

So we're down to the crunch... three days of absolute quiet.

I just spoke with Peter... five minutes is ok and he is half-way there... it was just more sadness. He didn't realise that today is Heiliger Abend, and for austrians, the 24th is the very very very big one, not the twenty-fifth.

I asked him about their Christmas party, and he was all 'it was all right', but am not sure he remembered. Juliana told me they were sort of overwhelmed the day before it when I visited. They have fifty patients, and 100 people rsvp'd.

Their common rooms aren't all too spacious, so it was a worry. On the other hand... fifty people, and two visitors per? Tja, just brush them aside, hey, and forget 'em. That ratio is telling.

Today must have been good. He said he'd eaten too much at lunch, and it was fried fish and potato salad with mayonaise, and he was uncomfortable. That was an hour after lunch, so I guess it varies with him still... who knows how the mind works? I have this idea that his is sort of like a fun-house at the moment.... the room with the distorted mirrors. And black holes. Something like that, anyway.

And yeah, on Christmas Eve, you eat fish here. I often talk to the tobacconist lady I see first thing every morning. We both have a passion for cooking, so I said, 'I have a Christmas gift for you.' And gave her my recipe for Filet of Sole in Sherry out of my New England cookbook that Marion gave me, and is very precious to me. Because the woman said she was doing sole tonight. Don't know if she'll try it, but she seemed very happy to have it.

And I dragged my sorry arse over to the market to wish Millie a merry merry... very early, before she got deluged with demands for flower arrangement miracles at the last minute. She drilled me on what I was planning to eat for the 'horridays'.. I said, 'nothing special'.. I'll bake a chicken breast in the oven, and that will hold me for two days, and the next will have Breinwurst.

'YOU! A four-star cook! Oh, RRREN!'

'It's not the same, doing it for yourself, and gawwd knows I've not much appetite these days...'

I mentioned the sole in sherry and she said, 'Oh gawwd is that good!' It's a simple, fast, very elegant dish. I normally had to work on the 24th, or better said, volunteered, but it was stress pure. Up at four, at the market at five to buy three days' worth of food, dump it in our kitchen, then do my shift, and coming home, I did NOT want to do an extravaganza, and that recipe was perfect. Delicious, festive, done in no time. Peter had cooked the potatoes for the salads, and had prepared it, a rapunzel salad with bits of garlic and potato in it and with pumpkin seed oil, our local specialty, and chilled a bottle of champagne. And had bought some very expensive desserts from the top bakery in town. So I had 20 minutes of cooking, and we sat down and let go, lit the tree, and the advent wreath, We never did big gifts at Christmas. I'd get some nice clothes, maybe, he'd get a ritzy calendar, he loved art ones... We kept it low key, and in the real spirit of things. The big gifts always came when the one or other of us never expected it. Sometime during the year, out of the blue... sort of a declaration of love. I've always loved that about him. And I would do the same, of course.

I sort of liked it like that. It was more about tradition than anything else.

Millie was my 'victim' if I was test driving recipes for an upcoming dinner... brought samples, and she was always
'Oh, THIS one you have to give me!' I assume she spread them through half the market. It got so I nearly didn't trust her... she always said they were perfect.

Just another facet of how subversive I could be... smile.

This is probably one of the saddest Christmases I will ever have.

I sincerely wish that my readers have a very nice one, a thoughtful one, without the stress, and think about the important things one should be grateful for... health, good relationships, love wherever it comes from... and just STOP... and breathe a bit. I think that is what it should be about.... and wish it for all.

Merry Merry, etc. etc.

Just when you think, hey....a little thing happens, and you think you've been hit by a truck....

2011-12-20T20:15:00.007+01:00

My friend Annti knows me so well, somethimes too well, I think. And she can see procrastination 5ooo miles away... and more or less ordered me to get off my bony arse... and go visit Peter. Or I would be very sorry later... maybe... or something. With examples... very graphic... of things she regrets.

Since the last time, I keep telling myself, and telling myself, GO, scrimp ... and it was so sad... I couldn't get up the resolve to do that day trip. And it is one given the bad connections with the öffies.. public transport.

Well, he still knew me... or I think he did... sometimes it's hard to tell. Juliana, who is in the admin office, came out to greet me... you can't smoke in the building, you can't smoke on trains any more, so once I get there.. I sit on the bench outside, and light up and try to steel myself for what I might find.

I asked her how he was doing, she said, 'Fine'... I recounted what he'd said last time, and hadn't known it was me for several moments. She said, 'He just gets confused sometimes'... Well she can tell that to others who want to assuage their feelings for putting their loved ones in a home, and sugar-coat it, but there is no way I was buying it.

The picture above? Taken this afternoon... about two minutes before the hammer came down. Again... I was being inane, and said, 'So what was for lunch? Was it good?' And I could see he was thinking and thinking really hard... and then he suddenly looked defeated, and stretched out his hand to me, and it was trembling, it frightened him because he didn't know. He looked so terribly sad. I took it and said 'hey, it really doesn't matter.' He doesn't know what is going on... but it frightens him at times. And it tore me apart inside, but kept it in. I asked him if he'd gotten a card from my cousins. 'No, but they called.' Uh-huh.. I told him he might get a card from Annti, of whom he is fiercely jealous... and he said, 'I feel so sorry for her, she's been through so much.' And that I should wish my Dad a Merry Christmas and everything good. Which was new...

It was one of his more apathetic days, and he didn't have much to say. So I was stuck there for over three hours, and he was tired, but didn't want to sleep, and I sort of just 'made conversation'. He doesn't remember the big cook off bet with my boss any more... erased in his memory.

And when I mentioned Marion and Bill, he said, 'How are they? Have you heard from them?'

That is like getting run over by a truck and having it back up on you as well...

I gently explained that they are no longer among us.... which he'd known before. It was like seeing fresh grief... new to him.

I said, 'I know Marion LURRVED to go shopping with you...' when he was squandering his fortune, and he said yes.. 'She really did love doing that...' he'd pick her brain for what's sensible and in good taste, and EXPENSIVE. She understood him maybe even better than I did, and it amused her... but she didn't know a lot of what was going on in the background.

I don't know... but there are lots of holes in his long-term memory as well as not being able to tell you what he'd eaten a half-hour ago. And he was so TIRED... spent three quarters of an hour with his back toward me in what is his most comfortable position in the bed... which is a wonderwork of hospital 'beam me up, lower me down' technology. The way I feel tonite... I'd want one and never ever want to leave it.

And I said, 'Listen Peter... wouldn't you like to turn over and face me? I've MASSAGED your back often enough, and ditto seeing your backside. It would be nice to look at you. I didn't pay out forty Euros to look at your arse.'

And then it hit me... it was the side he always took in our bed, when he held me, and often watched me sleep... At least he didn't cry like a lost little boy when I left... it exhausted him.

The home is nicely decorated for the horridays... Outside everyone's door is some sort of photo of the patient, and nice Christmas decoratons the capable made.

Everything is tasteful. Some people may wonder why I don't take pictures of other patients or halls full of them in wheelchairs, and so on. I will and CAN not do that. It would be an invasion of their dignity and privacy, and ghoulish. There was a man on a gurney out in the corridor today, and after I'd gotten in Peter's room, he started yelling 'Es tut mir so LEID! Es tut mir so LEID!' (I'm so SORRY'....) It went on and ON... Took them about half an hour to calm him down, and did I mention he had shins and calves that resembled a Biafra baby? And I said, 'Y'know.... I'm beginning to wonder what he's so sorry about.' 'Oh him.... he yells all the time... it's worst at night.' A year ago, he would have been agressive about it. For him... I guess it's just 'a day in the life'...

I got home... somehow. Emotionally drained.

Angry, agressive, and so I linked onto my game to get rid of it. And my guild was full of the youngest members saying 'gawwd, I had such a shit day!'

And I lost it... said, 'You wanna know what a shit day is?' And summed this up in five sentences.

That shut them up.

On the other hand, and it was clear to them that my partner is a man... it was 'oh gawd, was he in an accident?' (I assume they meant 'with brain damage or something?'). It was from the youngest members. And I said, 'No, diabetes, and I'm going 'off' now... my heart is too heavy. Nite.'

One shouldn't spread gloom during an 'event'. Have met nice people.

One thing I never expected from just playing an on-line game...

2011-12-18T15:56:00.004+01:00

is the amount of sheer honesty that goes on in the chat window... which is tiny, and drives me crazy, normally...

So you have to join up in groups which raise your game points and is the sort which you can be in many different places, but you're still getting the perks. If you are on about the same level, you can do things together in one area, and that jumps the scores even more... depends.

Otherwise... on the way to the crucial level of fifty... you end up doing mind-numbingly repetitive things to get those points, and people begin talking. As long as their avatars aren't in immenent danger of being killed.

And in some, there are people who 'know' one another if they are advanced players, and talk about things that are so personal.... kinda breath-taking.

Yesterday there were two thirty to forty-ish women. One of them has two sons. The youngest is ill. I kept out of the discussion... it was between them as if they were alone and there weren't two other people seeing the discussions.

To clarify, if you are in a group, only the group sees it. If you are in a guild, there is a tab, and only the guild members see what is going on. And if you want EVERYONE online to see anything, there is a total tab, and they do. So group tabs are very personal sometimes, or funny.

Whatever, yesterday was sort of heart-breaking. Woman with a boy who was fine till he was fourteen, and then all hell broke loose. The kid has an illness where the nerves in his brain don't function correctly... and he started overdosing on visual/audio input... hearing voices, hallucinating... it was wicked bad, as we say in the Northeast where I grew up.

The kid has been in a clinic for the last six months... not able to go to school, and the city of Hamburg has no program to teach him at home... although Bavaria does, but that is too far away, and whe won't let him be out of her supervision.

I assume the boy is schizophrenic, and will dependent on meds for the rest of his life, and this woman was so tortured... looking for maybe why SHE was at fault, or something. It made me so sad, I quietly left the group.

So during this horriday season, try to think about others less fortunate than we are.

And I had my knight Pip up, to gain points so that he catches up with what he was supposed to have learned until now. Thanks to my developing cataract, which is doing fine, thenk you... I hadn't seen that where you learn a new ability for your character, there was a second tab with passive abilities. Except the writing was dark grey on an even darker grey, and I thought it was blank, didn't see the words, and thought it would become important later. So he has to learn a lot fast, and that takes mucho points.

So I went to the place where I can get the most points for each monster killed, but they are so easy, there isn't any danger that the avatar dies. And invited a Lady magician to group with me... I'd only planned to do it for an hour or so... it gets mind-numbingly boring, and even with the group, progress is snail-paced.

She was doing the same, 'farming', they call it... and so we started chatting about virtually nothing... where we chose our character names from, books, videos, or better said films, and I let a bit slip about Peter...

And she got a bit agitated. THAT was a new reaction.... and then she blurted out that she is transgender, and had begun the correction process six months ago. Jaw-dropper, hey. I really thought... well never mind what I thought... sort of an in-your-face lady like my Annti, had seen her around on-screen and in a couple of big groups, where discussions like that never happen.

That turned into a six-hour marathon chat while we were doing mindless things, and her figure levelled. Mine didn't.... yet. Only a matter of time... maybe by Christmas.

I've never been able to really speak with, or have a serious discussion with a transgender person before. I just said, 'I'm really glad you told me that.'

And the rest of it was really too personal for me to repeat here. It would be a betrayal. And I quickly learned not to push with some questions... and listen.

She only talks about technical things with her transexual friends. Which I can understand.

I told her she could have a gay one... if she wished.

Up till about the third hour, I really believed I was speaking to a twenty some odd year old young person, and was acting accordingly. Do you live in a large city? They have so many help groups. Yes, she did. Which I found to be a relief... for her...

And around then, I asked, 'How old are you, and I know that is something you don't ask a lady, just curious, and you don't have to answer...'

And she said, '56'. Jaw-dropper much? And I just said the first thing that popped into my head... 'WOW! Oh wow! I really don't want to think about what you've been through.'

She gave me 'flirty eyes' Look like this ^^

Never married, never wanted to hurt anyone... how unhappy and cantankerous would that make anyone, huh?

For her, it sorta just came outta da blue... and she made her decision. And was surprised that so many of her women friends started hitting on her sexually. Which pleasantly surprised her.

'Errm, so you're a lesbian?'

'Of course'.

Uh-huh... I'm trying to wrap my head around that.

Y'KNOW... everyone has pre-conceived notions about lots of things, and sometimes are all too politcally correct in their thinking, yet still feel uncomfortable. I'd be the first to admit it.

But sometimes.... sometimes.... it really pays off to LISTEN.

You can learn something and get a further edumacation, believe me.

And no, I don't know who she is, or even what her name is. Maybe she's still deciding on the latter.

We were on the subject of pets in the game and their names... I told her about Annti, who had a beautiful black cat named 'Boy'. 'Turns out she does have a black cat too... Named 'Blondy'. And I said, you know what? I LIKE you....' Cracked me up... the sort of humour I love.

So yeah, you can learn lots playing an on-line game... there are other stories, but these two most recent ones only prove my point. And yes, whoever she is, I like her.

A couple of things you should NEVER ask a European you've just met...

2011-12-15T19:47:00.004+01:00

1. What do you do for a living?

2. How much money do you make a year?

3. How much do you pay for rent and utilities?

I've seen it TIME and time again. You want someone to shut down and put you in the 'asshole' category of their estimation of you? Be my guest, go right ahead.

It is considered, and I consider it.... the height of rudeness.

People here will ask you about your 'pedigree'... what sort of mongrel... which can also be a bit rude.

If you haven't disqualified yourself by asking 1-3...

But on the whole... if you can be polite and charming, and show you have some sort of education, and something in your head instead of just money and numbers... you can be accepted, and travel in circles one would never have thought possible.

Been there, done it...

It was fun... but the higher you get... the less you like them.

And they get creepy.

I sorta like the middle class. The higher up you get, the more artificial they become... anywhere.

I didn't like it. And retreated.

But the new Romans, as I call them, the blow-hard 'Murkins', they really are in a class for themselves... In places where they have no idea where they are, or what the history is, and make bloody fools of themselves.

And looking for a buck.

I prefer to be where I am, but it's been corrupted over the years as well.

THE CHALLENEGE... once upon a time...

2011-12-15T15:57:00.005+01:00

I was just 'talking' to my most favourite guy... after Peter...Who is hopelessly hetero... and was a role model for me... gawwd I wanted to be that cool...

Which is neither here nor there. But he was telling me about how Christmas dinner was going to be at his place this year, and so on... and since families grow... ten people, hey. Lots of work.

And I remembered 'MY FIRST BIG DINNER'... uh-huh... out of anger and pure stubbornness.

I sort of got 'into' cooking due to Peter... how better to seduce someone other than inviting him to a really super dinner, right? Tricksey, sneaky, Preciousses... and being stubborn I could carry it to extremes hardly ever seen in the Western World. He got a bad cold but was working? Who was in the street car for a half-hour ride cross town with a boiling hot hearty irish stew or chicken soup, stinking up the car? Yeah, I had it bad... At least I didn't irritate the other passengers as much as I made them envious... and hungry...

Now my old boss... whom I was lucky to have for over twenty five years.... had this blind spot. Americans had no cuisine, they only ate MacDonald's hamburgers, and it was all terrible... And Austrians of that generation really nearly revered food, having gone without during the War and afterward.

The first cookbook that came out after WWII? I cried. I'd heard all the stories. Everything geared to regenerating and putting on weight... 'Take an egg... if you can GET one...' It's a remarkable document. And there were farmers who got really rich, taking valuables in exchange for food. Which caused resentment that lasted a long time.

And I'd say, 'That's not TRUE! My family cooks remarkably well!' And go on and ON about all the wonderful things that were normal in my family, and especially about cool guy's mom, who did catering, Well, the first year, I met the Webers, not knowing they would become like substitute parents for me for many years to come. And I was telling Marion about it, because she loved her some cookbooks. And I said that was oh-ful.

That December we had our normal abnormal Christmas party, and my boss was always 'verklemmt', and it was chicken from the take-put place next door with potato salad, and apple strudel... or something... and it was expensive.

So the following year, Marion and Bill came back. And she presented me with the cookbook to end all cookbooks... Yankee Magazine's New England Favourite Recipes from 1976.. it is so good, it is in virtual tatters today, decades later, through much use and three moves. And American measuring cups and spoons. Since things here are metric.

I was FLOORED that she would remember that, and have a lot to say about her and her husband Bill later this month.. am steeling myself for it.

Well when the Christmas party time rolled around again and my boss was agonising over what to do... I said, 'I would like to PROVE to you that American cuisine is good. And I d cook. It's probably gonna cost one thousand Schillings.' That was a fifth of one month's pay I was getting, so it was bold of me, but not more than she had spent the previous year. She took me up on it. I explained I would be using the New England cookbook for EVERYTHING and prove she was wrong, and it was on.

It would be for SEVENTEEN people, our staff and the office. Hhhhiii... talk about biting off a huge chunk and having to chew and chew... and CHEW...

The catch was... I couldn't use the restaurant's facilities, because we were separate businesses, and I wasn't cleared for that.. you have to get a clean bill of health from the dept of health. Did that in Berlin... they check you for contagious diseases, hey... if you are healthy, you can work in the food industry. Regulations, anyone? I don't think they hurt.

So there was only a cubbyhole of a room where the staff made their lunches. Let's see... there was a double hot plate, a tiny broiler oven.... and that was it. Logistics, logistics....

And I thought, 'oh, just you wait'...

So I got my thousand schillings, and went grocery shopping, following this amazing book.

I began a day ahead... that is when you make soup, and have stuck to my method ever since... because totally fresh soup is a bit bland, it needs to sit. And I baked fresh gingerbread, and stored both in the attic, covered, because it was cold enough there and the mini refrigerator was too small. And it was a fresh tomato cream soup. Everything from scratch, not short-cuts... and was throwing thoughts and thanks over to Connecticut for the measuring stuff and the book.

I had the day of the party off, so was up in the kitchen at six a.m. And charmed the Slovenian cook in the restaurant to lend me a huge pot, some large platters and some cutlery, beíng young and cute. She was the one who was so offended when they introduced daylight savings time, but was a lovely person. We called her Mutti... Mommy.. Jane called her the 'pepper witch' because she really overdid that on her salads, otherwise, she did well.

I promised to bring back everything clean as a whistle, and it was off for a race against time. Yankee pot roast with potatoes and carrots. 30 minutes of prep, and then I recreated the phenomenal salad platters I remembered from my cool guy's mother's feasts. Curried eggs, everything else cut well and pleasing to the eye. And I'd made 4... count'em, FOUR original dressings from scratch the night before, using my double hot plate at home.

If I play, Preciousess... I play to WIN, and it was my first time cooking for more than one person.

The time came, I had really done well... piping hot soup, and the roast beast, (and you try juggling THAT on two hotplates). they went nuts over the salads and the dressings, and I warmed the gingerbread and made fresh whipped cream for it while they were devastating that. They found the gingerbread 'odd'. Not that it wasn't good, but unusual for them. Otherwise, a huge success. I've rarely been good at desserts because basically, I don't like them.

The chambermaids the seamstress and the laundry ladies were kind enough to help me clear away, clean up and return the things I'd borrowed from the resaurant.

And I shyly asked my boss... 'did I prove my point?'

And she said 'Ach!' No, Ach! can be said sort of disparagingly.. It's the tone that makes the music as we say, and that was that sort of 'Ach'. A friend of mine says 'Pfffft!' instead... like brushing off a fly. My boss said, 'Das ist nur eine AUSNAHME!' 'That is just an EXCEPTION!'

On the one hand I laughed, because I won. On the other, it irritated me to death.

You can't change people's preconceived notions just doing it once, it's a fluke for them. When Marion visited the following year, she had a really really good creole cookbook as gift for me. And laughed herself silly over my outrageous plan the year before. 'Don't worry about it, I'm sure it was great.' Well, over the years I impressed her...

And... I got asked for an encore the following year, and did creole lamb, and lots of green stuff to go with it. Screw Christmas and turkeys... how do you get one in a tiny roaster oven anyway... I did that once with a St. Martin's goose and soon had the fire dept in the no-tell ho-tell... which is another story altogether.

I wasn't asked after that, but had gained some begruding respect, which meant much to me. Only they still thought I was an 'exception' to the rule. And saw that I really worked my arse off to do that. They didn't want to put me out any more. I know that one wasn't a flop, because the bookkeeper asked me to cater one of her parties, but I was way too insecure about that.

And I enjoyed it thoroughly, being young, and full of energy. I did. It was fun.

And it taught me a valuable lesson. And made some rules. After that.... dinner parties were for two people---me and Peter---and four others at most. Otherwise, you're the work mule, and the others have the fun.

Cooking well is an act of love too.... and you aren't gonna change anyone's mind about the eating habits of 'murkins if they come over as tourists and stick to MacD's because they are AFRAID to try something new. Times changed... for the worse.

So isn't it ironic... today's meal was 200 grams of ground beef, and a baked potato. It was what my budget allowed, not that I liked it.... hamburger was on sale today.

Economics dictate a lot of things.

Few things make me laugh outright nowadays, but yesterday? Oh, Elvish! You aren't dead after all!

2011-12-15T14:23:00.002+01:00

Yup, was slogging along at my game, trying to 'level'... advance one. BORING...

To 'get' it... as in most such games, there are classes and one of them has to do with elves... there can be Dark Elves, High Elves, (and no the latter has nothing to do with pot or crystal meth), and so on... And the adjective pertaining to them would be 'elvish'.....

Now, playing the game is free of charge. The makers subsist from what they sell for real money in their on-line shops... but you can play it and get through without really having to buy anything. So I guess they prosper nicely. For Halloween, you could buy advanced 'armour' and run around in a Zorro costume, for instance. Only ten Euros or so, and the perks would last for a month. I guess the youngest players love that stuff.

So I was just gathering points, bored, because no one I know was on-line or willing to do a group effort... and it happened.

This figure in an outlandish suit flitted by me on screen... (you see whoever is in your area who is online)... and it was a white suit, and the figure had 70's huge sideburns, and bling, and I thought wtf???? And looked at the avatar's name.

IT WAS ELVISH PRESLEY!

And it was an elf, of course.... I had immediate giggles.

They keep SAYING he isn't dead...

Brilliant, just brilliant. Every time it flitted by, I started laughing again. Best game character name EVAH. I love things that make me smile, or even laugh aloud.

I have a duck sitting on a table nearby...

2011-12-13T20:42:00.003+01:00

No, not a live one... it's cooked to perfection...

I received a gift certificate for a supermarket, and since I hadn't been able to afford one for a few years now... I bought a duck.

And made it a la 'orange'....

And now it is just sitting there minus half a breast. It wasn't what I planned, but... my appetite is really small these days.

Wanna come over?

WAR on Cristmas? Faux has it all wrong, you have to go to Berlin...

2011-12-13T20:24:00.003+01:00

Every city has it's advent Christmas market, ok? People gather and get sloppily happy, and try to get in the mood with mulled wine, and cookies and lots of goodies... and buy junk for their trees, and gifts no one will ever really WANT, and so on...

Someone call Bill O'Reilly quick! Grist for his Faux News mill, hey...

It seems some nut job is running around the Berlin Christmas market, and offering mulled wine to people, and then they suffer circulatory collapse, and throw up and are poisoned.

Don't they know you don't take candy from strangers as a child, and drinks from odd strangers even if they are in their cups? And what the hell is the motive for doing something like that, huh?

Well those are happy 'horridays'...

The Germans are hopeless... always said so.

You can see the report here... if you speak German...

Hokay.... edumacation

2011-12-07T14:38:00.006+01:00

This will be a sorta-kinda rant, so you may leave now.... door's in the back, don' t confuse it with the fire-exit, which is locked and against the fire laws, last I heard, but hey.... the people who own the building didn't subscribe to the fire department, so if you smoke and the place catches fire, they'll come over and watch us burn. Please refrain from smoking, ok? This won't take long...

Edumacation... hmmm... what's set me off, you'll ask. Well... hearing that some people in the occupy Wall Street movement have two degrees and still can't find jobs and are in debt... sometimes to the tune of over two hundred THOUSAND dollars. Let that sink in for a minute.

Up to two hundred THOUSAND dollars! That should qualify them for Something...

For a person my age.... it freaks me totally. I grew up believing that higher education was the only way out and maybe up. I wanted the 'out'.

And hearing that the current cost of going to Yale is 42 THOUSAND dollars a year knocked me off my seat, hey. Left me friggin' spitless. Who could AFFORD that nowadays, huh? Oh yeah, the 'elite'.

Reporters keep telling us that things began going down-hill socially thirty years ago. Nooooo... it was longer than that.

And it was ALWAYS about class. In 1968, I was a senior in high school. I went to my so-called guidance counserlor and said I wished to apply for a college. My SATS were very good, but my high school... oh lordy... the kids from the north end got the perks, and schmucks like me were just barely tolerated.

And this counselor guided his north-end kids into the best colleges in the nation. So what do you think I got?

He laughed in my face with an expression of derision on his stupid face I can't even describe. 'You? College? Forget it!'

Stupid irish git...

And I thought, 'You just wait...'

I just wasn't 'good' enough, because I didn't come from the right 'background'.

Well, the people from the right 'background' were sorta sleazy in their morals, Preciousses...

So I said, 'I'll show them, all right.'

I got put on a waiting list at UNH, and got accepted to a business college meanwhile, so I went there for a year. It was small and in the neighborhood, and looking back, really helped me for the rest of my life to know about bookkeeping, which is the driest, most horrible thing you could wish for.

I was working, it was affordable, but I had to work a LOT.

And my first semester, I made the 'dean's list'. And got mentioned in the dreaded Union Leader, the most despicable paper in the nation. Don't get me started, hey.

So, I re-applied to UNH, and wonder of wonders... I got 'accepted'. And the troubles began.

At the time, UNH was the most expensive state university in the country. The tuition for one semester was one thousand dollars. Just the tuition. At the time... in Austrian Schillings, that would have been three months pay for them. Twenty five thousand Schillings.

Just to make it clear.

So I went looking for help. A grant, a scholarship, whatever. And y'know what? Catch-22 Preciousses. The system was gamed from the get-go. 'Do you work?' 'Yes.' 'How much do you make a year?' Told em. 'Ohh, we're so sorry, you're not eligible.'

To make it clear, was in a suit and tie and short hair in 1969, but class 'tells' with such people.

And I thought, 'fine, what am I supposed to do now, starve for a year, and then they take pity on me, or something?' Was despondent.

My boss and ersatz-father Bernie took me aside, and said, 'Son, you need a loan... I will help you with your first one, that you get it. But it will be the most important thing in your life to establish good credit, and pay it back in time, so that you can get another. You'll need a second job to swing this. There is a janitor job open for one of the small cinemas, and it pays well... would you take it?' Would I? I'd have done anything...

So we went to the bank next door, and he co-signed my first loan.. I would NEVER have asked my parents to do that, and they wouldn't have, am pretty sure even now... and I was off and running. Oh, right, now I remember... I did ask, and they wouldn't have co-signed because... they'd just co-signed one for my brother to buy a car, right. Goood all ballsy 'Murka. He was 'solid', I was the 'dreamer'.

That loan only covered the cost of having the 'privilege' of attending. I don't remember HOW, but I think it was through some of my co-workers with older brothers who were in the same predicament, and I landed in a car-pool to attend lectures. We all had to schedule our classes so that we could go out there and back, and work our jobs, and not waste time waiting for anyone else.

We had to drive over fifty minutes to campus, fifty minutes back, and I was still working 80 hour weeks, so it was fucking stressful.

Youth and resiliance is a wonderful thing. What did a day in the life back then look like?

Up at six, made toast, then rushing for my ride at 6:50. The long drive to Durham in a VW Beetle I love to this day. Except for the windshield wipers. When you needed them, they didn't wanna work. The first time they wimped out, I took the cord out of my anorak, cut it in two, and we opened the vent windows, and got synchronised, having tied them to the wipers and pulling them back and forth. Dave kept taking the car in to fix it, and it was fine.... worked so well in the sunshine, but hey... if it rained or snowed? Get out the cords. Otherwise the car was a gem.

Later he had a Mustang, and it was such a lemon.

So... Durham just before eight, a run to the Mub, which was the student cafeteria, and then RUN with a huge cuppa to class with the sand not even rubbed outta my eyes.

Classes until two or so... and we met in the Mub.. and drove home... sorta in a daze.

And sometimes I slept. Then it was off to my normal work, and when the cinemas closed, I was up in the smallest one, cleaning up the mess the audience made with my vacuum cleaner and cleaning toilets till about one a.m. And ran home to sleep for four hours if the new cop on the beat didn't fuck up my routine because he didn't know me.... On the weekends, I was at work from 8 a.m. till nearly midnight. I didn't know the meaning of sleep. Studied in the car.

So you can forget all the college films about partying... I think the only thing we did that was out of the ordinary was to go to a neighboring town one day and see the otherwise banned swedish film 'I Am Curious Yellow'. I fell asleep. I think I remember two blonde people copulating on a stone fence in front of a villa, but I wouldn't swear to it...

Now at the time there was the Viet Nam war. And the draft issue. Those things never entered my mind. I was thirsting for knowledge, and a better life. I soon learned that full-idjits who had straw for brains got passed so they would be exempt. I had to WORK for my marks.

I was glad when they changed it to a lottery thing... they drew dates of birth out of a drum, and the number ones would be the first to go. Mine was very high, so there was little chance of being drafted to a war I thought was wrong. if it had been low, I would have acquiesced... not knowing that so many people in later generations got exemptions because their families were rich. Those things always have a way of being 'fixed' somehow.

After my second year, I got into a summer program for German... had changed my major from psych to that... because the psych dept. was not into what I liked at all. And German fascinated me... just from the structure and logic of the language.

So I paid yet another large tuition, having gotten a leave of abscence assent from my boss, who was the most generous man I have ever met... and got to the school only to find that I was also supposed to pay for room and board... way beyond my means.

And I thought, 'Oh gawwd, this is a nightmare...' Said I was sorry, but I didn't have the funds for it. Did they make me work for it? Uh-uh.. There was a short consultation, and Jürgen said... 'We have good news. The German government will give you a grant, you can stay.' As if it were the most normal thing in the wurrld, hey. That that was POSSIBLE...

And it was the best summer of my life. I was finally a uni student, in a dorm, and with new-made friends, and all the fun and craziness that entails, and learned what I had been missing. Because I was poor.

And still finished two semesters of intermediate German in eight weeks and got a citation as best of class at the end. And a recommendation to go to Munich to work the following summer if I wanted to do the jr. year abroad programme in Salzburg.

Which brought up the next dilemma. HOW to afford a whole year in Salzburg, even if I did find a job in Munich the summer before?

Well back then, there was something relatively new.. a government loan, hey.... low interest...

As I'd proven four times that I was a credible client, paying back one thousand dollars pro semester to get the money for the next one.... it was easy. Got it. It would be two large payments, at the beginning of the Fall Semester, and another before the second. I was all set.

I found a place and paid a year's rent in advance to the people I rented from in June. Was conscientious and didn't splurge.

But then a strange thing happened. Nixon devaluated the dollar two weeks before my second check arrived, so I only got half the value. Can we say, 'screwed over?' I had to drop out of classes and work waiting tables, and was glad to get even that. My boss was the drunk Tartar From HELL.

And my boss had to bail me out for the money to get an airline ticket home. Gawwd love him. The minute I was back and I saw him, I said, 'You KNOW you're going to get your money back asap.' And he always had this sphynx smile, and said... 'I know. Don't worry about it.'

So I sorta missed out on the edumacation part of the second semester, but got one of another sort entirely.

And there were rumblings and a new spirit was in the land.... to put it in biblical terms...

The powers that be... whoever they are... decided that if you were in high school, two years of a foreign language would no longer be a requirement to go to college.

(Huh... and I thought I'd be a teacher...)

And the bottom dropped out of the job market, and I knew people with Masters degrees who were washing dishes in restaurants just to get by, because, you know... no red-blooded 'Murkin would EVAH want to learn to speak 'ferner'..

And I began that fourth year, and had a horrendous run-in with the head of my dept. I'd spent three hours with him the Christmas before when he visited us... alone. And gave him fifteen pieces of my mind about how ill-conceived it was, and that Salzburg was not the setting to put such a programme. And he did not like me for it. (I heard they later moved it. So I was right.)

It was the second week of going with a new car pool and new debt. My dept. head was hostile. And I thought, 'Y'know what, B? This is self-defeating. Pay off your debts, and wait to see what happens', so I thought it would be a hiatus to re-coup my assets... the ones I no longer had.

I had no idea how much worse things would become.

So I re-paid all my debt in less than a year, which was good. And things became worse in the job market, which was bad... And that was the end of my 'edumacation'.

No one I know from my class back then ever became a teacher... which says a lot.

On my home front, things went from bad to worse, and I finally said, 'ok, am outta here... debt free, have a bit of money... I'm getting OUT.

Compared to these Occupy people today... I can count my blessings that I had it EASY. The banks weren't the completely soulless sharks they've become today. HOW are these poor young people going to ever find their way to land again?

Everything about all this is WRONG, and pepper spraying those 'lazy' students like cockroaches when they protest tuition going up AGAIN? It just doesn't add up to me....

So what did I learn in my edumacation? I learned to think critically, read analytically, and a language. Not much bang for the buck. And that the privileged always get the free rides and a golden ticket to a job they aren't suited for, and that vitaman C (connections) wins out every single time. Not what is in someone's head. Or their potential.

And ya haveta think... this was nearly forty years ago.

The way it is now horrifies me.

The difference here? There is no tuition unless you aren't Austrian, and then it it pitifully low. They did introduce one for locals for a while, but the outrage was so ginormous, they rescinded it. Of course there are costs for boarding, and so on. But they aren't nearly NEARLY so prohibitive. I inscribed one semester at the beginning, hoping to finish my BA. It was really inexpensive. But there was a problem. I had swing shifts, and would have missed half the lectures, and soon learned it was a losing battle. Besides which, who would have wanted an American-born German teacher?

Reality BITES....

I had some enormously impressive teachers here, and attended some lectures that left me spitless.. My all-time favourite was my friend G dragging me to his anatomy class. He was just starting out, and the professor was so demanding, they feared him. But the guy was a first-class showman. He'd bring in his 'presents' for show and tell... covered with a towel in a porcelain tray....

Once it was an arm minus the epidermis. 'Don't let this disappoint you. With a living arm, it's much rosier, and juicier.' Another it was the arm-bone attached to the shoulder bone, and he demonstrated how it can become dislocated... gutwrenchingly true-to life. And the students got to study the raised nodules on the upper arm bone, which all have names... really.

He was dramatic... but fucking effective.

G. tried to scare me. He said, 'Oh, we have to go down here.' Into a cellar. I said, 'Hokay'. And it was the dissection room, lots of live corpses, some with or without the epidermis. And all these students working on them, studying.

G. was certain I would faint or something. I don't think anyone could have disappointed him more. I said, 'OH! It's like 'the visible man', we used to have these models where yóu could see all the muscles, and the veins and arteries and the nerves... it's sorta coool. So this is where you study?'

Left him speechless.

Things like that are an education. No one needs to spend 42000 dollars a year for some asshat to fill their heads with junk they aren't ever going to be able to use.... or hardly.

You can leave the room now. Done.

WOW, Hillary....!!!

2011-12-07T11:51:00.001+01:00

I choked on my fish... talk about unexpected and out there in your face liberal. Kudos.

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It's taken me four days to breathe in deeply and it doesn't hurt...

2011-12-04T20:17:00.003+01:00

Which is why I went silent. And it was due to pure LUST....

Lust is a terrible terrible thing. Look where it got Herman Cain, but, mine was sorta kinda harmless.

I love eggs. I do, and they were never a problem. Up until about eight years ago. And there was to be a christmas party, but I knew we were gonna have to wait for ages till we got to a restaurant and was hungry, and made a big plate of scrambled eggs. And never got there. My sinuses closed, I could hardly breathe... I'd become algerisch (algerian) which is an old joke between Peter and I because of a Mrs. Malaprop who'd wanted him to close a window in the hospital when his mom was dying, and said she was algerian to drafts. But meant allergic, of course.

So since then, I've been 'good'. I avoid them as much as possible... and not missing a soft-boiled egg at breakfast took a while. Of course I tested this theory of mine, but an egg? Bring on a respirator, hey.

On Nov. 30th, I was in the supermarket, and they had something new. And inexpensive, which is my criteria to buy something to eat for the day where I normally have NO appetite. Quiche Lorraine... oooooo...

Now if I had been thinking normally... anything named after my bio-mom should have set off alarums and bells, and sirens and whistles. 'Toxic'.

But I had a LUST for one. Whithout thinking about what was in it and I have made a few in my time. 20 minutes in the oven, and done.

I took a few fork-fulls and had a taste-bud orgasm. And reality hit me... 'good gawwd there's lots of egg in this.' Of course there was, that's the main ingredient.

And I thought with my fork paused in the air... 'Hokay.. you should stop right now!'

And the debbil was on my shoulder saying, 'You want it, it's delicious, and you never throw food away. Eat.'

And in Austria, there's a saying that 'einmal ist keinmal'. Once is never. (shrug) It's used to excuse all sorts of behaviour. So I ate the whoooollle thing. And loved it. I just expected some discomfort, you know?

Ya think!

That was certifiably DUMB. I didn't figure in the asthma component.

In the afternoon, was uncomfortable, but it didn't worry me... went to bed fairly early in the evening as I'd been up since like about three-thirty a.m. And woke up about three in the morning with a shock... For over fifteen seconds, I could not breathe in. I really thought, 'this is it, I'm gonna die, here...' It was like paralysis. And then something loosened, and I took in air.

We all never think about breathing... y'know? When it becomes a conscious act, it's sorta radical.

From then until today, it was 'da pits'. I couldn't even draw in half a lungful without it hurting. Felt like someone was wringing out my lungs. So it's taken days, and now I can take in a deep breath without feeling someone is strangling me.

Which is nice.

In other words, I inadverdantly poisoned myself. With a pie named after my biological mother, but in reality after a province in France.

There's irony for you...

The following days, was only up in fits and starts.

And my birthday was in there, but slept through most of it. I got my e-mail, and laconically answered some things on Facebook, where I never usually go. And opened my card from my best friend, and she made me cry... but not the bad sort of crying. I've never been so moved.

For a while, I was afraid to sleep, and only did so days... as if a bit of light was a difference in making you feel safe... and up most nights... trying to wait for it all to subside. And distracted myself with my online game, and some people from the guild were totally nice, and one in particular helped me with a problem I'd been unable to solve, and advanced some in it. And chatted, and laughed... anything not to think about how I was feeling, which was like spit-up apple sauce a baby suddenly didn't like.

One in the guild... I think he's a student and lives with his parents still, but loves to auto-group me, and we talk privately... was gone over that time, and when I came on today, he said, 'Hey, wasn't your birthday on the 2nd? I hope it was good.' And I'd only mentioned in passing, that I'd wanted to level up my Beschi (conjuror) for my birfday on Friday.' He remembered. If he is 'on', he's the first to greet me. And wants to go for a group activity. And then we do something boring in the game and 'talk'. I make him laugh a lot. We talk about all sorts of things, social issues, old movies, serial killer children (the bad seed), and he has a very astute mind and some good opinions of his own where I can say, 'Y'know what? I think you're right.' Whatever, when I went 'on' today, he was right there with HEY! And I wrote 'Hey, Kaede!' (I don't know what it stands for or even his name.) And as we were on the global chat tab, some asshole told me 'Lern deutsch!) 'Learn German'. Probably an aryan neonazi. And I was momentarily furious, normally everone is polite there, and sixteen terrible things I shouldn't say on-line came to my mind and wanted to go right into my fingers on the keyboard... till I turned Austrian...

'Ummmm shouldn't that be 'LernE Deutsch?' Kaede bust a gut, and said privately, 'Hey, don't go all Duden on him.' Duden is the official german language guide for correct grammar and a lot of other things. I said, 'Sorry, but sometimes I see things here that make me physically HURT.'

Today he signed off with 'bis später :)' Written out because I said seeing bs always makes me think for a split second it means bullshit. took me a moment to realise he'd gotten a chuckle out of it.

Whatever, despite all the discomfort and feeling like something the cat dragged in... some things made me smile, and am slowly feeling better.

And the next time you lust after something you know isn't good for you... calculate in ALL the variables, ok? Lust is a bitch.

New Orwellian things you will be hearing....

2011-12-02T07:47:00.002+01:00

Frank Luntz is despicable.... brilliant, but despicable...

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Ed really can rant.... love him...

2011-12-02T07:32:00.001+01:00

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a candidate for a Darwin award....

2011-11-30T07:49:00.002+01:00

it's the last clip in this short part of Countdown. The guy is right... the 'hunter' would make a good buddy for Cheney.

Memorable.....

2011-11-27T19:28:00.003+01:00

http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/28/badseed.php

You want creepy little girls? In the stage version, she killed everyone and ends up just sitting calmly playing Au claire de la lune....

And it wasn't about adoption, turns out, it was the bad genes from the grandmother who was a serial murderess..... I'd forgotten.

Here.

Annti triggered something I'd forgotten.....

2011-11-27T16:22:00.004+01:00

She sent me a horrible, but funny Xtian thing with a doll singing 'I'm a sunbeam'. Chucky's bride... But it was the 'sunbeam' that triggered the memory. Grew up with Sunbeam Bread, and little Miss Sunbeam was on the package. Now you can get a bread-box with the countenance of this little marvel right on your local Google search. Uh-huh... And I was SURE the Google search would come up empty. Who'd memorialise a local bread, hey?

But I never trusted her.... because... in 1956, there was 'The Bad Seed'. And look at that adorable face, hey... You KNOW she's gonna poison you with 'some' sort of additive....

One of my favourite horror movies of all time. I always had the feeling that Little Miss Sunshine would become the psycopathic killer of The Bad Seed... And singing dolls claiming they are Jeebus' 'Ray of Sunshine'? Oh dear...

No wonder they invented Chucky.

Plays to a younger audience. Besides which the subtext for the film was actually heinous.

You can read a review here...

Never trust an angelic looking little girl... just sayin'.....

Fun with Semantics...

2011-11-27T08:54:00.005+01:00

Just went 'off''. Not 'afk'. After which I'll be 'wd'... maybe. Just said 'bb' but could just have well written 'b', 'bn' or gawwd help me, 'bs'. And of course, 'dks' and hear 'hwk' a lot.

The German on-line gaming community is awash with abbreviations where you think, 'Whaaaa?'

It's been a trial to my supposed intelligence, Preciousessss... yes it has. Gobbledygook in the Chat window... and yes, you can chat on line if you so please.

For over three months, I've been playing, joined a guild, and my two 'chars' are visible to everyone as they are to me... A 'char' is a 'Charakter', a figure you have in play. English or German, easy to figure out.

In my guild, the members have this annoying habit of coming on line and greeting everyone with 'Hu-hu'. (German for Yoo-hoo!) Makes me feel like a friggin' OWL...

It gets even more of a mish-mash... people might say 'hi', 'Morgen ' for good morning, or north German 'Moin' or the stiff sticklers 'Tag' (good day). Sometimes you get 'Hola'. World language has gone bonkers, in other words.

Since this past Friday, I got popular, having been seen round a lot. The advanced players don't like messing with newbies because the game becomes very difficult and slow to advance in, so most lose patience with it.

But all of a sudden... my guild leader took me under her wing. Yeah it's a she. No one was 'on' as in online, so she asked me to do a group thing with her. There are different sorts, but the one she picked was to help me gain experience and more importantly, game points. She has several figures in the game, the most advanced being at level 95... which is awesome.....

So she has a knight at my level, 'just for fun', and we went out training our dragons. And since the Bandits and the Beserkers are easy to kill... you just have to fight long enough for your pet to level up... we chatted for ninety minutes.

And I learned that she emigrated with her parents from Kasachstan when she was ten. Has a daughter, and her name is Natascha, which her grandfather decided on and registered her at the Kasach town office, her mother calls her Nathalja, and everyone 'on' calls her 'Angel'.

Shades of the old Beatles song... 'Her name was Macgill, and she called herself Lil, but everyone knew her as Nancy...' And I was sooo tempted to ask if she had a brother named Boris, but no way would she have gotten the reference to Rocky Squirrel... hee-hee-hee...

Kidding aside, she is very nice, and helpful, and we 'talked' about a lot of things while slaughtering some monsters who weren't challenging, just for game points, because the game points determine how many capability points you get, and you can't learn new ones if you don't have enough. And it turned out we'd 'spoken' before in one or the other of her guises, but I hadn't known. I guess she was sounding me out.

Just like Sven and Heike, who pop up in the most unusal guises and places, and at first I never know who I am speaking to. And it takes getting used to... I just do the two... Pip, the knight, and RenB the conjuror, which name was so lame... I had a creative low when I generated him. But everyone knows those two are both mine.

Yesterday, she got me involved in a big 'ag', and I couldn't figure out what it meant, but it was 'auto-group'. You can register, and get taken into one. Or a normal group is when you are with another character in the same place, and you split points fifty-fifty, and the loot. In an auto-group, you just register, and get taken in, and meet new people, go your own way, and chat... But groups have the advantage that you get more points together than alone. Which helps you advance faster.

If you are invited to a group, it is good form to thank the leader before leaving. Politeness counts. Yesterday another guild girl took over when Angel went 'off'.

She saw me this morning, and promptly invited me to an 'ag'. Which I hadn't known the meaning of before, being a newbie. So I drilled her on abbreviation meanings. I'd figured that 'b' was for 'bye' when leaving, and 'bb' is for 'bye-bye'... easy enough. 'WD'--finally the penny dropped.. if someone was not at the pc, they write 'wd' for 'wieder da'. 'Back again'. 'bn' means 'bis nachher' german for later. And the dreaded 'bs' means 'bis später'. Also 'till later'. 'DKS' means 'danke schön'. And 'HWK' is only when someone joins a guild or group, so I figured it out... 'herzlich Willkommen'. 'Hearty welcome! Easy... you just have to figure it out, and of course I did figure out the abbreviations on my own, except for 'ag'.

Which this new girl explained patiently, and smiled. And I finally got the courage to ask her what the hell AFK stood for. I mean, I knew it meant someone is not available, but all I could thing of was 'Außer'. Except... and nothing came to mind. She said, 'You're thinking too complicatedly. It means 'away from the keyboard', like making something to eat or not in front of the pc.' (or going potty????). I said, 'man, you people are so short circuiting the language center of my brain, english, german.... gawwd.'

That cracked her up. And had us off and running about the monsters. 'The Gnolls would be so cute... if they didn't drool so much...' 'You should give them some pocket handkerchiefs.' 'My armour has no pockets, and I'm not using my cloak! And they want to hurt Norbert.' 'They love him, so they bite.' 'Yeah, literally.'

So ok, never see lol's there, let alone omg's, and certainly not rofl's...

It's a fully bastardised set of things which, when you first see them, seem nonsensical. Different countries, different shorthand on the internets, hey.

You learn something new every day. AFK my arse....

You'll probably think I am very selfish from the post below

2011-11-24T15:20:00.004+01:00

Or that 'love' conquers all, and for better and for worse and all that.....

I'd still take the 'till death do us part' vow in it... and boy, I've done the 'in sickness and health' to the very best of my ability.

There is a difference between taking 'love' to such an extreme you lose everything and land on the sreeets so never bought the 'for richer or poorer'.

I don't mean in the sense that he got poor so I dumped him... nothing further from the truth. We were poor at the beginning. And for a while he was rich. I didn't like the rich part. It drove a huge wedge into our relationship, and he wasn't to be restrained. But then again, he thought he only had seven years to live, thanks to the media. So I didn't like that part. Except for maybe making a few people I love happy..

So not really.... too much to worry about.

I liked the middle part where we were getting along famously, and there was 'just enough'.

Relationships are so fragile. Horrendous things like illness really change you both in a relationship. One the patient, one the care-giver.

To love and to cherish? Well, gawwd knows, whoever she is, the love part was never a problem.

It's so easy if you 'fit'. The 'cherish' part? That is a bit more difficult.

We so often do not live up to one another's expectations, and then you can't really 'cherish' them... You want to send them to the Blue Blazes.

Everyone has their relationships, is what I'm trying to say, I guess. They get more complicated the longer you have one.

'To have and to hold'?

Oh that is the easiest part of all....

And I still wouldn't have gotten married, which is possible here for a year or so now.

It would have meant having unlimited trust. Maybe they should put THAT in marriage vows... and I wouldn't have been able to do it. Then, when things were good... Or now.

And it was never about economics. It was about basic honesty about EVERYTHING.

Oh good Gawwd.... gay marriage? So NOT! Or ANY marriage! You never know what horrible things will happen!

2011-11-24T14:10:00.006+01:00

The telephone rang.

I thought it was one of those calls from the IFES Institut where they ask you about your buying habits, or if you feel 'secure' where you live, and was in the mood to 'talk'.

Uh-uh, Preciousses... it was local gubmint. Regarding Peter.

I freaked out, because I thought he was in hospital yet again, but it was worse.

Juliana at his home sicced a lady on me. Juliana's the main person in the admin office. Me being the only person to talk to regarding Peter. And the lady on the phone was 'gubmint'.

It was about being his Sachverwalter. Someone who manages people's 'things'. And I said, 'What 'things' am I supposed to manage when there is nothing there?'

She wanted to know what bank he had, which I told her. And she said they would transfer it to Gamlitz, and I said 'Ok, but it won't do you much good... they were crazy enough to give him a three thousand Euro overdraw limit, and he always kept it right at the max. Meanwhile the overdraft is 'probably' a third of that.'

Would I OVERTAKE THE RESPONSIBILITY for his debt?

And I said, 'Listen, we were together for thirty five years, but we were NEVER married. I have only 70 per cent of my pension and barely get by, but pay my bills. THAT would be impossible!' I have no responsibility for his fuck-ups, and don'tcha just lurrrv you some banks....

There was lots more... lots. Whether he was really in 'demenz'. Uhhhh... go figure? I did a thumbnail sketch, beginning with three amputations on one leg, the stroke in the supermarket, the two heart attacks...' And the secrecy, and that I NEVER got any honesty from him when it came to his financial situation. And that he suddenly didn't know he was talking to ME last time I saw him. 'Oh, it was diabetes?'

I admire the amount of restraint I've developed over three decades, really... Because twenty years ago, I'd have turned the air PURPLE. She knew... She definitely knew. And I gave her 'Saures'. Which means sour and bitter... Couched in 'polite' terms.

I could always have talked to the four walls about his finances and gotten more answers.... That sickness is so insidious, it defies description.

Otherwise.... I hope I didn't fuck up.

Gawwd... some days you can reminisce and feel all warm and fuzzy...

Well then reality BITES, as they say.

This is the nicest interview...... Betty White at 89

2011-11-24T13:02:00.002+01:00

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As much as I detest 'Morning Joe'. Can we say 'impressive'???? Rewatching... I thought it telling when Mika asked about gender issues in 1949. Her answer is so TELLING... 'You had a job and did it, and didn't think about that.'

Tomorrow is Evacuation Day...

2011-11-24T11:44:00.005+01:00

It may have been on The Daily Show, but is historically accurate. So forget Black Friday, and think about Evacuation Day. I can only link, not embed...

But you can see it here.

And btw... it was funny as hell. And why didn't I learn about it in school? Just wonderin'....

Am gonna have a turkey leg... ooooo And laughing

2011-11-24T11:14:00.002+01:00

over Ed going after 'the Mittster'....

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And Lawrence O'Donnell on the ninth Commandment... fun. I love it when he gets riled. And the end of the clip is just great....

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#

Hopefully the turkey is done soon.... before I lose my appetite.

I don't have much contact with people any more...

2011-11-22T14:44:00.003+01:00

Since I never leave the house...

But first thing in the morning I see my tobacconist, just when she opens.

We've talked about lots of things. Cooking, of course. I just gave her one of my favourite recipes today... for the first time.

But generally, what's goin' on, and general things...

I don't know HOW we got on the subject, but she said she had stopped dying her hair, because she has a condition where her hair would fall out if she continued.

HER hair is grey for about four months now.

And I didn't put my foot in it. I said it suited her, and I didn't think that dying one's hair did any good whatever, it never suits one's teint... mostly..

And yeah, I dyed my hair... twice... I looked like a ghost. Da Ven... well I don't even want to think about Grecian Formula.. His is now fine as it is, full and lovely.

And I said if the cut is good, women with grey hair can look damned elegant. And it was true, I do think that.

And then we had a 'moment'. When someone confides something to you about their life.

When she was young, she wanted to dye her hair, and wear pants, and her parents were very conservative... the lady is now about sixty. And when she went into apprentenceship, the first thing she did with her pay was get her hair dyed and get some kick-ass pants. And I said, 'oooo.... Rebel!'

And laughed. So I told her my 'rebellion' story.

In the Fifties, men and young boys had pants that were cut so wide, you could put helium up them and just blow away. That WIIIIDE... And 'pegged pants' came out. And I was always unhappy with the flappy floppy ones I had... With my first money, I bought a pair, earned it running errands.

So I went to my beloved cousin's all proud that I'd earned and bought it for myself... I used to take care of her kids, she was from New Yawwk so was 'hip', you see. And I went into another room and changed, and came out... and my Mom was there.

If you wanna see pursed lips of disapproval, you have to go to New England, believe me.

And I asked, 'Whaddaya think?' Very pleased with myself.

And my Mom said, 'You're not going out like that!.'

'Why?'

'Because you can see everything... even the crack!' She meant my tush.

And then came the classic 'Go to your room and change.'

So I said today, 'Y'see? Different cultures... but basically the same.' And she laughed.

And that last line became a signature anytime anyone of us was getting ready to go somewhere, and I'd tell Peter... 'Hey! Go to your room and change!' If it wasn't appropriate. And he'd give it to me occasionally.. It never died out. So I passed it on.

I don't see people much any more. But sometimes you connect, and it's nice.

Greetings from Pumpkin Land

2011-11-22T14:05:00.003+01:00

Yeah, it's that time of year again... Thanksgiving in the US... I have a love-hate relationship with that day, used to love it.

Where I live is pumpkin land, just realised. It's a very important crop in our region.

I spent one foggy November day in the late 70's, sitting in a field, splitting pumpkins open, and harvesting the seeds. The rest of them were mostly left to rot. Or mulch, or whatever you want to call it. It was the seeds... 'Styrian Gold', they call it. It was clammy cold, and so on, but there was this group, and everyone was telling side-splitting jokes, and we just DID it. And in the end, it was fun.

So why were the seeds so important, and still are? They get dried, and pressed, and then you have a wonderful oil. It is dark green, looks like something you'd want to use to grease machinery with. It is used on salads, like rapunzel with bits of potato and onion. And it is expensive, because it takes a lot of pumpkins to turn up enough seeds to get a liter out of them.

There is an international group out there, I kid you not, and they swear on how healthy it is... especially for prostate problems, and since it affects men, got attention. They had a convention where I lived. A liter bottle here was going for about 100-120 Austrian schillings, which was about ten to twelve dollars. In New Yawwk... which was one of the places it was available, it was going for 130 dollars a half-liter. Nice profit margin, and good on 'em if they were able to bilk them for it.

I, of course, was amazed... 'Why waste all that good pumpkin? We do all sorts of things to cook it, it seems sad...'

Well, over the decades, they did learn, and squash, which had been theretofore on a menu and fairly bland became a hit. And pumpkin? There were a lot of people who cooked it. Poverty food, ya know, after the war. I learned it from the mother of a co-worker. And it is so basic totally Austrian cooking and so delicious, it was always a staple on my menu.

Oddly, there isn't any distinction in the word for squash and pumpkin here. All the same name.

And obviously, big differences.

Ive been a very.... VERY subversive influence here in one family. Because they thought it was unthinkable.... I made a pumpkin pie for people I knew. Most of them didn't care for it. Not really, it seemed 'unnatural' to them somehow. And it was really good, mind you.

However... the son in this family 'lurrved' it. And for many birfdays after did he want cake? Nope. He wanted a pumpkin pie, gawwd love him... His mother made me give her the recipe.

And I grinned. Oooo... subversive, ewww!

So Happy... but Annti's card... think about it...

ohhhh, hey man! And how things change...

2011-11-18T19:11:00.007+01:00

I spent a bit of time digging doday about the woman below... because I was fairly certain that she was originally from Austria. I've known a Dorle and a Dorli in my life, so it seemed to be a logical conclusion that that diminutive form of Dorothea or Doris is from my part of the woods.

Dorle is dead, and Dorli is very much alive. So we talked....

Those diminutives are only specific to Austria... yay for us.

Trying the Google... well... I was AMAZED at the hate.

Of COURSE it was all a set-up, and of COURSE they smeared something on her so that it LOOKED like she got pepper-sprayed, and she's a well known agitator, and an otherwise disgusting person who is not credible.

Really... Really?

There are some people who wouldn't recognise a turd on their doorstep if they step in itö.

Since when are octegenarians fair game to smear?

I would think they know more than the ASS.hats who have nothing better to do than tear them down.

Sounds like someone's getting 'skeered', oh yes.

I really haven't talked in weeks... to anyone...

Except tonite I had this urge to communicate, so ) called Peter.

Yup, he still knows who I am. Praise whomever. And I said, 'Hey, I found the PERFECT counterpart for your Aunt Hildegard.'

SHE was your proverbial piece of work, Nazi to the core, a shame to the family, and she NEVER gave up. In her mid-Seventies travelling to New Yawk to mix it up with radical Black groups, and later in Florida... she was a terror. Hearing about her escapades left me spitless, but had to laugh... she was amazingly 'bad'.

And I said... this woman HAS to have come from here. The zingers are really telling, she grew up here. 'What am I supposed to do, sit in front of the tee-vee and eat bon-bons?' (Boom!) There were so many, I thought... 'oh, I KNOW this kinda tone....'

Peter laughed so hard... even he had seen stuff about the Occupy movement, but was sketchy on the whys and wherefores. I tried to explain it to him.

We ended on a good note, so it wasn't a sad phone call.

I will get there soon.

And then I called the living Dorli... as an excuse to ask her if it were really only an Austrian diminutive name... but she had been in my head for a few weeks now, she worries me. It was a good excuse, in other words....

I only got voice mail, so left it at that, but she called back... she's your basic 'handy' addict. She more or less confirmed what I thought. Her news left me somewhat discoursaged... yet again.

I keep hoping and hoping that things will get better... but as in my own case... well I don't suppose they will.

They finally gave up their rented house in the suburbs and moved into the lot they bought from Peter more than a decade ago, and she said she hoped I would visit.
'
Riiigghhht... like I would ever darken that door again.

'Don't ask me to do that, ok? Because even today, I think I would become violent if I had to see 'MAGENTA AND RIFF-RAFF'...' That is what the OTHER neighbors call them.. from 'The Rocky Horror Show'. My terminoligy would be more on the lines of Gollum, 'The theives, the thieves! The dirty little theives! Tricksy! Naswty! False!'

(yeah, I'm just a bourne of good will if it comes to that... not.)

Well, Magenta was sorta freaked that they were moving in to what was their property. And went all slimy, and her first question? Would I be visiting? Really... She has reason to be afraid,

(And I'm deleting expletives so fast in my head it makes me diszzy, because I have NEVER met anyone like that paragon of disingenuousness. I will NEVER forget the day Peter had his stroke, and I rushed him to get to the telephone, and that bitch played down the weakness in his arm in the hoüpe that he would DIE that night, if they didn't take him away to hospital. And will never forgive her for it. And I'n supposed to go over there and make nice? She is 'evil bitch' personified, basta. I don't use that word often, but if anyone has deserved it... she does.. and a thief. And everything horrible you want to think of.)

Whatever, I got her up to speed on her new neighbors. If you came out of the door from the inside, on the right were the Fishers. Nowadays, there is only Mrs. Fischer. Mr. Fischer died of an untimely heart attack.

When we first moved in, there was much to do on the house. The chimbleys had to be restored, but no one thoght about the roof.

We had a severe winter, lots of snow. And Peter and I had only been there a few months. And the snow collected... and we had a roof avalanche. That sounds so harmless. Our housed have steeply sloped roofs, you see, and when a bit of plus degrees come, well, the snow sorta melts and turns the bottom layer to ice sheets, and then it slides off them to the ground. People have been struck dead in my lifetime being hit by one.

So one fine day, thaw weather... the doorbell rang... and it was Mrs. Fischer. We'd had an avalancche slide off of our roof in such a disastrous way.... it crashed through their roof landed in their living room.

I was SPEECHLESS, Peter was ill, so I went over to view the damage. It's a small two-story house, a 'two-generational' one. His nmother had the ground floor, thy had the top floor. Mr. Fischer's mother was near ninety at the time.

The avalanche fairly wrecked their living room and I was glad that no one got physically hurt. So I told them he had insurance, and it would be taken care of asap. Which it was.

(This is NOT a good way to meet new neighbors, btw....)

Shortly thereafter, Mr. Fisher died. His mother followed not long after. As far as I know... their son and his wife and children occupy the ground floor, and she is still on what we call the first floor. This is still a common thing here... multi-generational housing....

On the right, as you came out, was 'watch it!' The L. fambly. I have no idea how Mr. L is doing. Last I heard, he had an inoperable brain tumour. But he was the bane of my existence. He hated trees, and leaves especially. And was fond of litigation. He had an orchard in his back yard, and his only joy was pruning them into stumps... because he didn't like leaves.

Let's face it, leaves shed in the autumn, and land on the ground. It's nature. Mr. L was the most bizarre Tartar against Nature I have ever encountered. He brutalised his magnificent cherry tree to the point where it didn't bear fruit any more for five years. (I counted.)

He hated, HATED our Plantain tree next to the house and sicced the authorities on us saying it was sick. But it wasn't. Nothing pleased him more than the sound of a chain saw cutting down his enemies... trees. Maybe his brain tumour was developing then, and no one knew what was wrong with the man.

One of our other neighbors got to be big-headed, and told us to rake... because, literally, 'he suffers under the leaves'. Which brought out so much hilarity, we still talk about it today... I had this perverse image of him in a pile of leaves, whining and moaning... It loses in the translation, but believe me, it was stellar.

Their son and doaugher shared the upper floor. Son got married, had a daughter, the daughter is single still... and the only nice one in the house.

Her window looked out onto our garden, and I have heard how she misses what I did there, and the sound of our laughter when we sat out summer evenings.

Well, I miss it too... very very much. I laid down a patio myself. And got some garden furniture, and we'd be out evenings. And have to smile... on one of them an Igel ran through to hide in my mulch pile. It's a sort of hedgehog. My cousins were there, and there was no stopping the panic, because they thought it was a rat.

I wish they could have seen the weasels mating in the yard behind ours. Creepy creatures, and such a racket. I thought cats were loud...

Whatever, that's the thumbnail profile on what used to be our surroundings.

I miss it and I do not. The ones not in the house bemused me totally.

So it is all 'aprpos nothing'.

And Dorli Rainey is still awesome.

You could fall in love with this woman....

2011-11-17T18:01:00.001+01:00

Wonderful lady. Generation gap my ass!

Nice Rant....

2011-11-17T17:43:00.001+01:00

Bloomberg? Oy...

So whaddaya gonna drink, hey?

2011-11-16T16:53:00.002+01:00

Frack the damned frackers... Problems? If you can light your tap water on fire, it probably isn't safe to drink.

I never knew that rivers in America actually caught fire. The photo on this blog is our 'river on fire', but it was just a traditional thing... scuba divers from the fire dept. with phosphorous flares swimming in the river. I think it was preferable....

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Generational Wedge?

2011-11-14T17:33:00.003+01:00

Spent a weekend mostly with 'zocken'... playing. My on-line game programmers called it a double 'event'. Two days of getting 50% more points on everything. Plus they held two free-range 'battles'. I didn't try the latter, my characters are still too low-level, but I did get them to advance two each, which is nice. Yay for the knight and the conjuror.... and so on.

But Sunday I did take a break to watch Saturday's broadcast of UP, with Chris Hayes. He came up with a stunning 'story of the week'. You can see it here. He describes how über-conservatives, who desperately want to dismantle social security, medicaid, and medicare are sneakily trying to disaffect the young twenty-to-thirty somethings and woo the so-called elderly 55 and up by telling the latter they needn't worry, because they are going to get their benefits, but they have to make changes hey 'to save the grandchildren'. And the young 2o-30 somethings? Well hey, they are gonna have to re-think their futures... As the unemployment rate in that age group is somewhere between 20-23%, depending on which poll you hear, the ploy is a dangerous wedge aimed at getting generations at loggerheads with and resenting one another.

And it's being done so slyly, so underhandedly, am willing to bet that the Rethugs behind it would be incensed if confronted with what they are doing, and indignantly deny all such claims. It was something 'out there', but I'd never seen it in that light before.

The ensuing discussion still has me sort of upset inside, although it was an excellent discussion. I especially like that his guests are mostly 'new' faces from the publishing world and government, and not the fatuous faces full of self-importance you see everywhere else. And most of them have a lot of interesting things to say.

Whoever has a Tivo should tape it, as he's only on at gawwd-awful early morning hours. Or tune in per internet.

And oh yeah... I think my dragon is turning black. Which pleased me.

It's an upside-down world......

2011-11-11T18:43:00.003+01:00

When the person you love most sends more than enough money for your birthday that you can afford a new between-times jacket and new pair of shoes. (And not have to lie to anyone who shivers looking at you in a sweater while they are already in winter jackets, of which I have tw0, but it is waay too early.)

As to the shoes... well, they're sneakers I got as a present seventeen years ago, only wore them occasionally for a while, but for the past three-four years... well, they're sort of falling apart. Well, not even sort of... They wouldn't survive even the most delicate fine-wash cycle in the washing machine, so they aren't very nice to look at... and I do have other shoes... except most of the time my feet are swollen, and have a hard time getting into them. Like taking five minutes and cursing like Cinderella's stepsisters all the way... nope, the sneaks are comfortable enough... but falling apart.

It's an upside-down world in that I should be the one sending a goodly sum to help someone be comfortable in advanced age, and can only feel guilty about it all because I can't.

And I know that if I say anything, I'm only gonna hear he 'won' it... ummm.... errr.. somehow. It feels wrong.

And it feels like an upside-down world when I see in the snail-mail box that I got mail from my best friend. And I haven't mentioned this here, I don't think, but having been depressed this year, I hadn't even opened the mail-box from February till October, so 'someone' decided to just dismantle the door to the post-box, and it disappeared, so now I HAVE to look, 'just-in-case'.

(I'm fairly certain that that 'vandalism' is my neighbor Rudi-Doody's work... it has his signature all over it. Not broken into... the door just removed! I think he thought I'd lost the key, or something, but there IS such a thing as asking.... and of COURSE he denys knowing anything about it. Post-box doors do NOT dismantle themselves...)

It's an upside-down world when that very best friend spends over a dollar for a stamp and money for a birf-day card when she is so strapped, that money might have made the difference between getting a pack of cigarettes, or something decent to eat.

And it's an upside-down world that she finally gets back to where she had wanted to be and lands at an address that sort of sounds like 'enjoyment street', but there is no 'enjoyment' to be seen far and wide, and it becomes a mockery of what she had so yearned for. And as much as I love her, I so wish she had used the money for herself, and sent me a crazy free-of-charge e-mail.

That isn't criticism. I wish for a lot of things, and knowing what it cost her also makes me feel guilty, because I'm so not worth that sort of attention.

I wish I had the funds to send her something that would rock her world, and there never seems to be a red-cent left over come end of the month, try as I may.

And, of course, it isn't my birfday, we have a couple-three weeks yet. And I haven't ever really celebrated it except my fiftieth, where I pulled out all the stops for an entire week.

No, I didn't hold orgies, or go on a mind-bending spree. I celebrated with friends... two to three at a time, and held lavish dinner parties. All of them began with my favourite recipe at the time. Stuffed oysters creole style, with three sorts of fillings. Peter had gotten me a metal chain glove to work on the 'ersters' after I'd cut myself the first time, and a special knife to open them, so I sort of looked like Michael Jackson doing crazy work on seafood. One of my guests gave me a very expensive chopping knife with my initials and the date engraved on it, which was a lavish gift coming from someone more on Peter's side of acquaintances.

That was my favourite birf-day of all time, because I was the one giving something that I was good at, and there was champagne, and laughter, and wonderful conversation, and it was all 'good'.

The only other I enjoyed was shortly after 'da Ven' married my step-mother. I turned eight, and her sister, my late aunt made me the most elaborate cake I had ever seen, it was a carousel. I was just overwhelmed. And never forgot it. It was 'acceptance', and being part of a new 'fambly'...

Otherwise... 'birf-days' never rattled me much at all.

But it IS an upside-down world for me being a recipient of kindnesses, and humbling, and sort of embarassing.

I won't open the card till 'da day'. It will be the only thing to look forward to. And go shopping... which I absolutely hate.

There are days, like this one, where I don't feel I deserve any of that. You basic Protestant work ethic... I wasn't 'successful' in the end, so I can't be a 'good' person. The rest of the year, I don't mind being 'bad'.

There's always been a lot of 'jumping the gun' regarding my non-horriday. My bio-Mom was the worst... I would get combo-birfday-Christmas cards in September, she didn't want them to be late. A bank transfer takes three to five days even in this electronic age, because it goes through several stations, and they all 'sit' on it to get some interest. An airmail card from the US takes five to seven days, depending on whether there is a week-end or horriday in between.

The crassest thing I ever got was the usual combo birf-day Xmas card one September from my bio-Mom.

After she had been dead for over a year. First reaction? I gave my work nick-name Flipper a whole new dimension. Until I saw that the date was over a year old. It probably got lost somewhere, but that was the most horribly uncanny thing I ever experienced. Even from the grave, I thought, she never lets go, and the hand-written stuff in it was... manipulative as only she could do it.

Yeah... upside-down...

To both of youse guys... I love you. And thank you humbly.

Spitless...

2011-11-10T12:34:00.001+01:00

This is too weird to be believed. And this for a guy with his hands on the reigns of the Western World. I happened to have a mouthfull of popcorn... and blew it all over the keyboard.

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Regulations... sometimes work, sometimes not. I had chicken over the weekend, a huuuge chicken booby

2011-11-07T19:15:00.002+01:00

Yup, sounds ridiculous in the extreme.

And the term comes from a cousin who was about five or so and screamed over the balconies in our block to a Scottish gentleman... 'HEY, Mr. P!.. Come on over, we're having chicken boobies!'

By which she meant chicken breasts.

I thought my neighbor was gonna piss himself laughing, was a witness to the 'indiscretion'.

(smile)

So big deal, I had chicken over the weekend. It's something you would put on Facebook...

Except there is more to it.

For over a year, thanks to being clinically depressed, I just go to the supermarket next door, and twice got a bit of chicken which in local jargon would be described as a 'rubber eagle', which sums up the texture and flavourlessness of the product.

So I didn't buy any for a long time.

And had a hankering for the good old days, so I went to the market, which is about 100 yards further down the square, which is about three football fields long. And of course, I went to the people I KNOW have the best chicken EVAH. I eat very little nowadays, so I only wanted a bit.

I believe the lady who was out there every weekend has passed on. She must have been stunningly beautiful when young, but was strikingly beautiful in age. It came from within. Now one of her sons is there.

And he pulled out a chicken booby that was breath-taking. They come from the Sulmtal. And are free-range, and fed correctly. So I roasted it. It was a full pound. And I had an orgasmic experience in my mouf. I'd fully forgotten what good chicken tastes like.

And had more than enough for the entire weekend.

So yeah, I can hear you say, what's RenB going ON about, good for him, he had a nice two meals.

The people at the market are real farmers... they sell their produce, and if there isn't enough for a weeks demand... you are so out of luck. The EU regulates the conditions under which they can produce their products, and are extremely strict. What you get in the supermarket is mostly under the radar... passable, but not quality. And the price is about the same.

So for all the tea-party people... government regulations often provide much quality and safety in what is sold for you to eat. And not be poisoned.

I used to have laughing fits over terms newly coined, like Bodenhaltung. Which means free-range chickens. But if you take the word literally, it means, 'holding on the ground', which brought up hilarious images in my sick head of farmers flinging themselves about and holding their chickens on the ground. I used to have Thurberesque 'flights of fancy' in my noggin...

Which brings me back to buying at the market. Fresh produce from people who work their ass off year in and out to make something so good, you will only buy it from them. And are out there in all sorts of weather day in, day out.

And it works, on principle. If Gawwd had wanted us to have strawberries in December, they probably would have grown then. I think there is a reason why certain foods grow at the time they do, and will be good for you. I do not think that it is sane to buy things that are not grown where you live, or in season, just because it gets imported and it's there. I never did that.

And THAT is what preserves are for. I got to be really good at it. Peter buying junk crap stuff at a huge percent upgrade, because, boy... diabetics really get screwed for prices for 'safe' compote, or jam, or cookies or gawwwd knows what else.

I put a stop to it. I learned how to put up glasses of preserves without the dire additives and at a third of the cost. The farmers did their thing, I did mine. Beginning in Spring. Fruits, vegetables, sauces.... by late Fall, there were over one hundred glasses waiting to be opened.

I had to hide a couple of the cherry ones so I could do the Easter ham. I made a KILLER cherry relish for baked ham... made some friends of Peter's speechless.

I would not touch produce from a supermarket. For Peter.

Lately, haven't cared what I eat.

But the chicken? It reminded me of what can really be good. And it is because of regulations, and a memory. My cousins visiting yet again. I served chicken from the Sulmtal. I can't remember what recipe.

But there was a 'sotto voce' comment from L. to her husband: 'WHY can't we GET chicken like this any more?'

Deregulation. People cut corners, sell shit.

Because no one is looking over their shoulder. And you get tasteless rubber eagles.

And the whole problem begins with that sort of thing.

General strike and historical context

2011-11-03T16:02:00.002+01:00

I love when history is actually respected and tied in to what happens in our day.

oh.... good stuff....

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It's a horriday here....

2011-11-01T16:24:00.006+01:00

All Soul's Day. You go to the cemetery. It's what everyone does. A cemetery today looks like the most beautiful garden you can imagine. So people remember and honour the dead.

Actually, it should have been yesterday, All Souls Day... never seemed logical to me to have it on November first.

And I would have gone, I suppose, I was in the mood for it. Exept... I know I wouldn't have been able to find either of the two I wanted to visit. Peter's mothers, and Jane's. When Peter's finances and his mind went south, the Church was after him for costs of 'maintainance', which is a joke... people tend to the graves themselves. And wanted 10,000 Euros for a ten year 'upkeep', uh-huh.

Charlotte was upset and confused that she couldn't find her sister's grave, so I guess they just did a turnover and someone else is in there now. I really don't know how that works. Except... forever isn't forever, you know?

And I wanted to see Gisela's grave, finally, and leave some roses. Gawd that was tragic. 'Gisi', as Peter's aunt called her, or Giselle, as we called her, was her old school friend, through thick and thin. And the war was pretty thin. She had a son out of wedlock, Horst. And she was Peter and my preferred dinner guest several times a year. The first time she came to dinner, I nearly blew it. She being advanced in years, I served a mild coffee... not knowing that she was your TOTAL caffeine addict. The dinner was great, she said, but the coffee offended her muchly.

Well no one had told me before-hand, demmit... The second time, I had my weapon ready. Peter found a place that sold cuban coffee. You know how they say one that's strong puts hair on your chest? That one would have turned you into a werewolf. Heart-stoppingly strong. And she said, 'Now THAT'S more like it!'

She would only eat chicken or fowl. Or as I once wrote a cousin, 'anything that flies', and she replied, 'even a Boeing 747?' ---which completely cracked me up.

And since she was only fixated on fowl... man, I had my work cut out for me. I had a new variant every time which she had never had before. Indian, Thai, so many variations I can't even recall them all. I'd gotten Lazarus, my first pc, so I got busy and printed out menu cards for the place settings, or in her case, sent one per mail as an invite. Sorta, 'we're having chicken, wanna come over?' Went all formal, place settings, the works. Martha Stewart would have been proud of me. Hell, Emily Post would have done a Snoopy dance.

I remember I did pheasant once, which she lurrrved. But the real highlight was inviting her to a 'real' American Thanksgiving dinner. I got the smallest turkey I could find, because she ate like a bird. But it still was very big. And we had just been in Venice, and there was this porcelain shop on the corner up from the hotel, and there was a tureen... it was a turkey. Peter and I took one look at one another and burst out laughing, and he went and bought it, just for Thanksgiving. Gawwd... I don't even know whatever happened to it.

It was hilarious to look at.

So the soup course was in that.

And I trotted out all the trimmings, and the damned turkey was so big, and unwieldy, well, we had this rolling bar on wheels, cleared off the top, and wheeled it in... and I will NEVER forget the look on her face. Gawd, I was such a star.... once.

And by the way, I think I was a very good cook. Once... People at the market would get samples, and demanded, demanded that I give them recipes. Coming from a people who really appreciate cuisine, that was high praise indeed, so am not being overbearingly conceited.

Giselle would watch us like a hawk, curious as to how we interacted, and she found us very funny and entertaining. But there was a back-story to that. Her son Horst. We always thought he must be gay, lived in Vienna with 'someone', but we never knew who... and to me at least, it was as if she were imagining how her son was living there. He came home every weekend to take care of her. Alone. Just imagine...

So he was sort of a ghost.

If Peter's aunt and uncle visited, it was a different story, and could get embarrassing. Giselle would always brag.... about me. It started with the fact that Peter's aunt and uncle liked seafood, so I made a salad for after the soup, seafood. (Yeah, I did four courses...) But I knew Giselle wouldn't touch it, so I made her a small plate of chicken salad.

And the one-upmanship began. 'He made that extra just for me.' 'I've seen every Christmas tree and Easter tree since they moved in, and they are wonderful.' Sort of nyah nyah, you're just pedestrian visitors....

Embarassed the hell out of me. So on one occasion, she pushed too hard, and his aunt said, 'Want me to tell them about your son in Frankfurt?' Dead silence.

(She'd been ragging on them about their obsession with using public transportation. And Peter had spoiled her, going out by taxi to pick her up, and take her home. In that, he was a gentleman. Plus he took her to visit them in Germany twice, where they had many adventures, the worst of which was her taking his small bag through security when leaving, and Peter's insulin needle was in there. That took some explaining, but she'd never HAD an adventure before, so she relived it and reminisced often.)

I last saw her two and a half years ago. She had been ill for a long time, so was spared the decline and fall of the Mühlgasse, thank whomever. But I was with his aunt and his cousins, so we didn't get to talk all that much... I felt it was their time. So I went into the garden to smoke. And there came the ghostly Horst. A pudgy, middle-aged man who somehow struck me as looking a bit pasty and not well. We made small talk, and am sure he was as curious about me as I was about him.

The only thing we knew about the 'scandal' involving him was that as a young man, he stayed with Peter's aunt and uncle in Frankfurt, and got into big trouble, and they bailed him out. Whatever it was happened in the Bahnhof (train station) district. I've been there... in Frankfurt... it was like 42nd street in the 70's, gritty, lots of vice, lots of sleaze, lots of prostitutes of all genders. For some reason we think he picked up a guy. And it was illegal in his youth. That's all we'll ever know.

Everything else was connecting the dots from snippets of conversation, and pure speculation.

Whatever, about three weeks after I was out at her house in the suburbs, her son had been home more, caring for her, was reading the morning paper, and Horst fell off his chair immediately dead. Stroke AND a heart attack. I always wondered what happened to his long-time Viennese 'companion'. Giselle had him buried so fast, I doubt he would have been notified.

Three weeks after that... Giselle died. A year later Peter's aunt came to visit her grave... and couldn't find it. 'It's just LIKE her... making secrets out of nothing.' (a-HA!)

Y'know, the Soaps always preach that secrets always come out. In this case? äääähhhh. Wrong.

It doesn't matter. I've long learned that what you 'think' is the truth always gets a spin that leaves you saying 'WHAAA?'

So that's a day of the dead memory I wished to share today. Because my memories are fond ones and make me smile, and to honour a remarkable lady. heh, I remember thinking I'd found a sapling of the apricot tree on the side of the house and had planted it in front of the kitchen window. She looked down, and had a laughing fit. 'Son, I don't know what that is, but it is NOT an apricot tree, believe me.' (she had a fantastic garden). Of course it turned out to be a walnut tree.... blush. She laughed so hard... 'don't you know that birds drop seeds on the ground and sometimes they take hold? Just because it was at the foot of the tree doesn't mean it's an apricot tree.'

Nope... never learned about that side of the birds and the bees, unfortunately.

And unfortunately... there are also memories of an awful lot of other people long passed on, but they are the painful ones. People who died way too early, people who were ill from youth and succumbed, people very special to me.

One of them had diabetes from an early age. And I was fortunate enough to visit with her for a few hours when I was last in NH. Her thing from teenager on was having picnics in cemeterys... 'because we're all going to end up here, you know....' Yeah, sounds macabre, but it seemed to give her some sort of comfort.

So it was a day of remembering here, and honouring past people whom one loved. Which is nice. I don't ever remember anything like that growing up. People died, you went to the cemetery and see them buried, end of story. Here there is a hypocritical side to it... see and be seen. Outdoing someone else in floral arrangements. Which is petty.

So I didn't get to any of the cemeteries today. But thought about and honoured them in my own way.

Rick Perry rocks NH???

2011-11-01T11:49:00.002+01:00

Jon Stewart really had fun with this. What was he ON??? Can we say 'crash and burn'? It would be funny, if it weren't tragic... But better now to find out he is really screwed up.

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Update to the story below

2011-10-30T21:34:00.002+01:00

Turns out the boy was only suspended for one day. It was the principal who was the whistle-blower. He was horrified.

And now the best part. He was returned to the custody of his 'mother'.

Gawwd, I could have projectile vomited on the spot.

Seemingly he has a gran who cares muchly for him.

But that is really just trouble in the making.

I could go ON... but better hold my tongue. Am too reminded of another 'mother' who was a destructive force for evil too close to home for me.

Personhood

2011-10-29T20:04:00.008+02:00

My father, aka 'the Venerable' sent me an e-mail the other day which was unusual, in that it was longer than a few sentences...

He told me a really vile tale about someone he knows of in his vicinity. A woman who had a child she didn't want. So she spent his first and formative years telling him she hated him, and she was only keeping him on for the added money on her welfare check. (yeah, a real hum-dinger of a 'woman')

She indulged her revulsion of this child she seemingly never wanted by beating on him. Police were called in, but she was clever, nothing could be proven, and social services' collective hands were tied, seemingly. (Have I got this all correct so far, Dad?)

Well the kid acted out, what could you expect, hey? Got forbidden to ride the bus to school, and then the school expelled him... which doesn't say much for the teachers in it... But they are probably too overworked to think... 'what's going on with this child?' And his mummy dearest beat him and left marks, and FINALLY, the child was taken into the social system which is gonna be even worse for him, from what I've read and seen per tee-vee.

It's a horrible and disgusting story, and unfortunately, I know it happens a lot in 'Murka, the bad version of it.

So what does this have to do with the clip below?

The Rethugs have a proposed law on the ballot in Mississippi to proclaim that the minute an egg is fertilised it is a person. It goes way beyond what has heretofore been proposed.... because it isn't just about abortion.

I can never figure out why that 'less government' crowd has the nasty habit of wanting to get into people's bedrooms in general, and regulate women's reproductive systems in particular. They can really creep me out with this shit.

So leaving all the moral and usual arguments aside, what does the one story have to do with what they are trying to do to women in Mississippi, and soon to try in other states?

The Rethugs just LURRV the idea of babies. They love them so much they would like to strike the child labour laws. To work cheap in coporation factories, or something. (Check out what they did in the Mariana Islands on Google... it is mind-blowing. Slave labour and forcing them to prostitute themselves, way to go, the Rethugs are very sick people in their heads...)

Now leaving all the other and usual questions aside... what do you think will happen to the child whose mother was raped and was impregnated and has to look at that child if she is forced to carry it to term? What do you think will happen to the children who were not wished for but forced by law to carry to term?

I see resentment at best, and abuse in every sort of variation at worst. And there would be a lot of 'mothers' like the one who obviously has upset 'the Ven'.

But hey, it's their vision, forcing themselves into the most private part of peoples lives, and all, but they are so against the government regulating anything. Hypocrisy reigns among those people.

Why aren't they creating jobs? Oh yeah, that's what they ran on, but the only thing they've done so far is trying to curb people's reproductive rights. They creep me out with their horrid fascinations.

As to jobs? Oh yeah, they said they were gonna strangle the economy so that Obama would be a one-term president. And they have. Fact is, they will do as much damage as possible, and if people get hurt? Well they don't care.

So when I saw this clip... it raised those issues in my mind. What is left of it...

Listen carefully.

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Just a bit of mind-surfing on the keyboard....

2011-10-28T01:45:00.004+02:00

Y'know... one of those 2 a.m. things when sleep won't come.

For three days now, it is clear we are entering what I call 'the tunnel'. It's the weather, and lack of light.

It gets light later and later, and twilight earlier and earlier... and then all you get are days of twilight, and it won't get any better before January, mostly... with an odd day of sun here and there to break the monotony.

It didn't use to bother me, but of late, it is opressive. Weighs one down.

I crossed paths with my landlady today. She was friendly, even gracious. Out in the court. Which was odd. I thought she was really pissed off at me.

We were polite. She asked about my 'partner'. Which was purely greedy inquisitiveness on her part. (shrug) Didn't really matter to me one way or the other. I told her. I have this 'thing' about telling the truth.

I know her husband is in a similar state. And she said, 'Hey, sometimes you have to see the humour in it.'

I think my funny bone got shot off in the war against diabetes somewhere along the line. Never knowing when the next crisis would come.

So I slept part of the day, and now am up at the god awful night-time hour of 2 a.m. Just having the thoughts running through my mind... and Peter is always a constant.

Y'know... It is so difficult being so cut off from him after 35 years. In all that time, I think there were about four different weeks we weren't together every day, even if the time was short some days... we worked hard, and took that seriously too.
'
It is so disconcerting that we can take a relationship so for granted that we can also be neglectful, because, 'oh, there's a crisis here', or 'have to fix that.' And 'there'll be time later on'. And we miss the important part of the entire venture. To savour one another's company as much as possible. Because one day, you won't have that any more.

I feel like something has been amputated out of me. So often in the day, my first reaction to something is, 'oh, wouldn't Peter love that', or 'wait till I tell him this',

Except I can't and I won't be able to.

Gawwd, how I miss him, despite all his faults, but he sure overlooked mine...

Which evens things out. More or less.

And I think, whether gay or straight, if you get through three decades without wanting to kill one another and only have mostly good feelings... well it was probably 'lurvvv'.

What I miss most right now? Falling asleep with him holding me, and waking up to find him watching me. I felt safe and loved. And yeah, he used to love watching me sleeping in his arms.

How extraordinarily pornographic.

If we'd filmed it, people would have fallen asleep watching it. Maybe there is a market for it somewhere in this dumb world.

Not being able to visit regurlarly and being so strapped is making me feel neglectful. And guilty. But the last time... it was such a strain on him, and my allotted time was so long, it wore him out.

If I call, five minutes is all he can take.

It's tragic.

I really wanted to become very old with him and scare a lot of horses.

I guess as a couple, we were pretty disgusting. Finished one another's sentences, laughed at the same things, sometimes so much it was side-stiching.

Odd thought... one of the first times we were alone, he was gong ON about a new Peggy Lee album. He'd seen her in Copenhagen in a bar, and she was so drunk she fell off the bar stool. She was singing, by the by...

He loved the version of 'Is That All There Is' on it.

Tja, Is that REALLY all there is? Depressing.

And on that note...

historical context

2011-10-27T13:48:00.001+02:00

interesting...

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Trick or Treat.....

2011-10-26T09:40:00.003+02:00

The programmers of the game I play in Berlin are always inventive. Every Tuesday they turn off their servers for a few hours and fix bugs, or add something new or make an 'event' , as they call it. Some of them are lame, some are interesting. Yesterday they took longer than usual, and had to wait for a huuuuge patch to install itself once they were back up.

The theme of the week is: Halloween! Yay...

They really went all out this time. You always begin in the same place, the town square in an idyllic realm's largest village. And I learned per special notice that there were empty baskets all over the place. And if you got one, you were to go to the 'Halloween Narr (fool)' and you would receive 'candy'. The Halloween Narr is an effigy scarecrow on a crossbar with a pumpkin head and flaming eyes.

Trick or treat in other words. Normally if you have to find things they are few and far between, but not this time. You are generously given all sorts of candy, and I guess there are six sorts.

As is appropriate, the candy is Halloween 'creepy'. Frogs on a stick, dead eye-ball chewing gum, sugar skeleton bones, pumpkin drops, moldy lollipops, candied worms, and so on.

Normally in the game, if you are given 'sweets', they are to be used in the dungeons, and enhance your life force or abilities somehow. So instead of telling you what the candy does, all you get is, 'you have to taste it to find out'. So I tried 'em out.

Takes 'Trick' or 'Treat' to a whole new level. Activate one and it can say 'eeeewwww, horrible'... and you suddenly have minus 20% of your attacking force for two minutes, which isn't good if you're in a fight. Or 'ooh, delicious', and you get a 50% life force increase for five minutes, which is a real 'treat'.

And even within one sort, they aren't uniformly the same effects. Each one is different. Won't go on, just giving you the idea of how it works. I think this is the best Halloween in a long time. Very clever, and I get a week of trick or treating. Who else can say that, right?

Whoever thought this 'event' up really put a lot of work into it, and I think it is as funny as hell. Whoever it was, they must have Halloween as the top 'horriday' of the year.

Apropos Horriday... today is our national one, come around again. You're supposed to go out hiking and take in the beauty of the country. Except the weather is dreary, and there's a fine mist, so will be in-doors. Because we all know what 'mist' means now, right?

Happy trick or treating when the day comes.

And oh, the selfishness....

2011-10-25T11:05:00.001+02:00

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And after the War on Christmas... now Halloween

2011-10-25T11:02:00.001+02:00

Ahhhh Faux News.... ya gotta hand it to them...

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Oil... in another context, i.e. Iraq

2011-10-25T10:57:00.001+02:00

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The elephant in the room

2011-10-23T04:33:00.004+02:00

Ghaddafi is dead, which is the 'best new thing in decades'.... for the Libyans...

But there is a huge black elephant in the room which, in all the reporting only got one mention, and that in a dramatic whisper... by Jon Stewart. '....and oil, they have lots of oil...' He was the only one to mention the elephant.

And so it is more than disingenuous for even good reporters to profess 'wonder' and a sort of surprise that Dumbya had tried to rehabilitate Ghaddafi in the international community, which enranged the relatives and friends of the victims of Lockerbie and many other people.

There were enough reports at the time that Libya sits on a HUGE reserve of oil, and conglomerates in England, France, Germany, the US and China were just dying to get licenses for drilling rights. So Ghaddafi played them, and they were all just fine with it. Anything to get a toe-hold and drill there.

There were enough reports about it at the time in the MSM, so.... why the confusion and wonder now? The dictator got what he wanted, and he limited what they could do. He may have been weird, and ruthless and crazy, but he wasn't dumb.

The present administration took a different view of things, and the uprising of the Libyans gave them the really unique opportunity of getting what they really want obliquely. So they 'helped' the people throw over the dictator and Ghaddafi lost... everything, including his life. If you gamble long enough you hit a losing streak.

That isn't to say I regret his demise. I'm sure he's rotting in some sort of hell...

I'm just irritated by the way things were presented in the media... as if it were all a mystery, or something. Do they really think that in our fast-moving world we have the attention span of two-year-olds, and no long-term memory retention?

It was brilliant on the part of the West. They keep their own troops out of it, the Libyans are grateful, and the corporations are finally going to get everything they've always wanted. One should never underestimate them.

In comparison, no one has ever given a flying fuck about Somalia and all the death there. Do we see an international effort? Course not. Call me cynical.

(Talk about rhetorical questions, hey....)

Nope, Jon Stewart was the only one to mention it... in a whisper. He sees the elephant in the room.

Firefighters get screwed... again...

2011-10-13T22:20:00.002+02:00

Ohio... Jeebus.

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I've always found John Kasic deplorable, but thought it was because I really don't like Slavs, having been duped by them so often.

oh my... Cain? Really?

2011-10-13T21:43:00.001+02:00

The guy is a nut job.

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Unsung heroes....

2011-10-13T11:57:00.004+02:00

For every movement there is an antecedent. People think that the gay rights movement just spontaneously ignited the night of the Stonewall riots. There were people who were pushing for their rights waaaay before that.

Magnus Hirschfeld, for instance, who was a doctor and psychologist in pre-30's Berlin and died under the Hitler regime. The incredibly gifted Christopher Isherwood, whose books influenced me, especially the autobiographies, and who led an amazing life. The poet W. H. Auden. Even Walt Whitman in a way. They and so many others were influential, and knew EVERYONE who was anyone. They built a foundation for what came later.

In America, there was Harry Hay, who formed the Mattachine Society to better conditions for gays in the US. One of his members and an activist all his life was Frank Kameny. Mr. Kameny just passed on at age 86.

In MY corner of the world, when I was a kid and teen and young adult, the local rag and the only daily 'newpaper' in the state, vilified the Mattachine S0ciety as a bunch of pedophiles. (It's always the easiest thing to do, isn't it?) They weren't. They fought for equality. They said, 'this isn't right.' And they fought.

If you were to ask any young gay or lesbian person today, they would tell you the gay rights movement came about like... oh god, brain fart... some god springing out of Jupiter or Zeus' head. Or cite Harvey Milk, who was assassinated, and I don't even want to get INTO the Twinkie defense, that absolute low-life Dan White.

People laid the groundwork. People were jailed. People were killed for what they believed was right. People suffered and were still able to fight.

And THAT, my Precioussessssss... is what is needed now in a very different context. Vote next time. Examine your conscience. It won't be about gay rights. It will be about your reproductive rights, and many other things.

Rachel gave a fitting tribute to Mr. Kameny. It's to the point.

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Am not sure, but I think when I embed these there are commercials from Mobil Exxon and Goldman Sachs first, which drive me totally crazy.

Especially Mobil Exxon, and that pock-marked Eric Oswald and his 'reassuring' message on fracking... (all praise HD) and saying it is so safe, well, I usually yell 'Tell THAT to the people who can take a Bic and light their tap water on fire, you git!' But that's just me... Everything has a price, doesn't it...

Oh my.... New Hampsha gets Rachel upset!

2011-10-13T11:25:00.003+02:00

She has a point... New Hampsha always gets picked on... I think it was the Daily Show where the line fell... New Hampshire is so white, they think snow is camouflage.

The lead was good, but it's about what Rethugs have been doing instead of creating jobs, and all about 'the other', and abortion. But she's right... shortening the actual legislative period is getting out of hand. And I agree with that...

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And I was crushed.... yes crushed, when The Old Man of the Mountain collapsed in 1993. It seemed to be something amazing, lasting. It should have told me something. On the other hand, maybe they should switch the trademark to Indian Head. It would be fitting, maybe.... (for those who don't know, it's a similar natural rock formation.) And for young people now... I would still recommend the short story about the Old Man by Nathanial Hawthorne. It is beautiful.

Words again....

2011-10-13T09:43:00.004+02:00

I swear I'm going to get certified one of these days... was thinking about this entry as I went to get my cigarettes and 'groceries'. And there was a very fine mist, not really rain, you know?

And then it hit me, and I busted out laughing in the middle of the intersection.

In German, the word 'Mist' means garbage, or when used as an expletive, as in 'Ach, MIST!' it means, 'oh crap!' It only borders on the vulgar...

This after we have had five weeks of the finest Fall weather I have seen in years, not that I go out much. But warm, sunny, just beautiful. It finally broke last Saturday with a thunderstorm, and it cooled down enough that people turned on their heat a little for the first time this year, but only in the evening to take off a bit of a chill.

Mon-Weds it was cool nights and in the mornings, but comfortable throughout the daytime.

Whatever, I used my little 'joke' on the tobacconist and the cashier at the snoopermarket, so-called because everyone checks out whatever everyone else is buying.

It got some smiles and a laugh. 'Is that really true?' one girl asked. 'Honest, it is...'

Well--- over the weekend, I found that my take on Apple was sort of well-founded, but it was worse than I had thought. I'd assumed that their products were purely American-made. Turns out they aren't and the German press is still lamenting the late St. Steve Jobs, gawwd love 'em, the vultures....

Chris Hayes had a very interesting guest on his show UP over the weekend. Guy named Mike Daisey. He has a one-man show called 'The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs'. Hayes played a short clip and it looked quite funny... about the planned obsolescence aspect of the products. Biting satire...

But Daisey once posed as a businessman in order to tour the factory producing I-phones, and Tablets, and what-not------ in CHINA. (He was researching his show..)

Tha's right, only the designs and the know-how originate in the US. And factories in China produce them for a song.

The working conditions are horrific. Twelve hour shifts on an assembly line... and no breaks, if you please. The company had to put up netting along the roof because they had several cases of people jumping off of it and killing themselves. (gee, I wonder why...) And there was something a bit murky about minerals used in the products which can only be obtained from the Congo, but they really didn't go into that.

And of course, China doesn't have EPA regulations, so they can pollute as much as they please. This guy talked to people who had sent their children to school in other provinces because theirs had become a 'cancer cluster'. But anything to make a living, right?

The discussion made a lasting impression, and others kept asking, 'why is this coming out NOW?' Hmmm, I dunno, maybe because the company loves to litigate?

So when I think of all those shiny, pretty things which the company made people think are so indispensible in their lives, and the vast amounts of profit they made with their astronomical prices for the consumer... it sort of makes me throw up in my mouf.

Let's see, what else in new? Herman Cane (Cain? have never seen it written and too lazy to check...) is a real hum-dinger example of what I meant below about if you're poor, it's your own damned fault.

He's bought it hook-line and sinker, all right. Telling some asshat on a Sunday show that they should stop wanting to take from the rich and word-for-word gave the Rethug manifesto... if you fail, it's your own fault.

Bill Maher was more than disturbed with his comments, it really got him.. To paraphrase, he said he tells jokes, someone can play ball well and get paid obscene amounts of money, but teachers, police and firepeople aren't 'worthy' of being paid better? He got very agitated. That was on Rachel Maddow's show.

And have been turning an eye to my own backyard this week. It's as I thought... the financial crisis is gonna blow up nationalistic animosities and fuck everyone over.

Our own rabble-rousing 'newspaper', and I use the term loosely, had screaming headlines because the mess we're in is because of the 'lazy Greeks'. (errm, hey guys, ever heard of Goldman Sachs?) The Czechs are accusing the Germans of Großdeutsche ambitions... sort of like, wanting to take over Europe and the word has Nazi subtext to it. Slovakia's government just toppled because they couldn't agree on a bail-out plan, and no one ever writes anything about who is really the catalyst in the whole mess. (Schlamassel, I love that word, sounds like what it means....)

If the animosities bubble up to the surface... well, a house divided will weaken the Euro, and the US would 'lurrv' that. But there are other dangers involved.

And I see they want to reinstate customs at borders again... mostly to stop illegal immigration, because the countries on the outlying areas 'aren't doing enough' to stem the tide. Sound familiar?

As my beloved Mom used to say, 'I tell ya and tell ya... do ya listen? NO.'

(Her 'sayings' are still in my head to this day... and they were smart and for every occasion you can think of.)

It's always 'give 'em what they wanna hear', or to quote Billy Flynn in 'Chicago' 'Razzle-dazzle them, and they'll never catch wise...'

In other words, and it's the word for it... it's 'show-biz'. It's MIST in the German sense of the word.

Peter update

2011-10-08T17:27:00.002+02:00

I called, finally.....

He knew who I was. That was good....

No one's been to visit. That is bad.

I told him G. and D. are moving into the Mühlgasse, the unit they bought years ago.

He advised me not to go there. I told him not to worry about it.

Said he misses me muchly, and worries about me. (Now?)

I think most of what I told him left him 'vague'.

Broke my heart all over again.

I really have to get myself together and go down there.

And eat sardines for three days...

Sad? Yes.

But have nothing much more to say on the subject. He said he loves me. And I know he does, and did in his weird way. The horrible thing? I still love him as well. It didn't do me a lot of good, that call.

It was the first time he got tired quick and said, 'We'd better stop, this is costing you money.'

Floored me.

I'm gonna teach you a new word today....

2011-10-08T17:13:00.002+02:00

because there isn't one in English.

Leichenfledderei.

Sort of --- robbing from the dead, but REALLY taking everything usable or of value.

It's a very negative word.

Yahoo German news reports a HUGE pre-sale and orders for the new I-Phone, even though it is only a bit faster, and has minimal things that are 'better'.

But hey, Steve Jobs died, and what better way to make a buck, hey?

Sour grapes? Probably.

I was always 'sour' because even in my best earning days... I couldn't afford a non-crashable Apple product, and had to make do with Microshit. It wasn't for 'poor' people, in other words.

It was for 'elites'.

It's not surprising they are gonna make one helluva profit on his death.

Which is Leichenfledderei.

Interesting how the media can play into a group's hands

2011-10-07T18:44:00.004+02:00

as unwittingly and as ignorant as they sometimes can be. Which, in this case, is a good thing. I thought the occupy Wall Street demo would be a flash in the pan, but things seem to be taking hold nicely.

But the main stream media was all, 'dirty fucking hippies', and 'whadda they want?' They finally answered. I thought it was ok. Good list of grievances, but waiting to see what they propose as solutions... Countdown has been covering it heavily. And the same grievances can be heard here as well. It is, after all, the global corporations' doing.

Tja.... Saturdays's news wasn't worth commenting on, but

2011-10-02T20:20:00.002+02:00

I spent a great deal of time this morning seeing how 'Lambchop' has been doing.

Am speaking of Chris Hayes, editor at the magazine 'The Nation' and an economic whiz, and I believe he is a good friend and protogé of Rachel Maddow... she's graced the beginnings of his own show. The 'Lambchop' thing happened one of the first times he was on Rachel's show, and he was nervous and said, 'Hey, Mad!' Then excused himself. And she said, 'It's ok, Lambchop.' The rest is history.

He did some guest hosting when she was on vacation, got good ratings... so now he has his own show. Only early mornings on weekends for now....

But am very much liking what I see. He's still nervous and a bit giddy, and there are glitches in his production team... like not smoothly putting up a clip when he needs them, but it's endearing, somewhow to watch something coming together.

The show is called UP... and I still don't know why, but hey, why not?

It is a much-needed counter-balance to MSNBC'S insidious Morning Joe, where pompous bloviating and self-aggrandisement are the order of the day.

UP is immensely 'watchable'. And informative. It's sort of an informal round-table discussion with the sort of people I would love to join in and have discussions with. Geeky and charming. And Hayes has the audacity to have on conservatives... real ones... who make the discussion lively by injecting actual ideas rather than 'talking points'. I guess they are the disaffected middle who have been disowned by the right-wing. That in itself is refreshing. Everyone is polite, no one cross-talks or interrupts, and there is a lot of back and forth where people can concede that the others have a point and aren't basically wrong.

It used to be called polite discussion... way back in the mists of time before everything polarised.

It's a breath of fresh air, hey....

There is a lot of emphasis on economics, because that is what Chris Hayes really knows best, and I hear you yawn.. But it isn't like that at all. Everything is explained in layman's terms, and it is all easy to follow. And actually entertaining.

It's like being in college, or young, and in on a clique, and they throw ideas around... And there are interviews. He had one on yesterday who wants to ban Planned Parenthood... and was way too polite. That woman was a horror. The only thing missing was a string of pearls at four a.m. as she was in San Francisco and was on the 7 a.m. segment eastern time. He was way too polite. Only faux pas so far. He could have really gone at her, although he did have the facts to refute her allegations.

He just didn't state them strongly enough.

That was the only jarring note this past month. Yeah, I watched a month's worth.

So... if you're up early on a weekend, I'd recommend watching that other than the pompous idjits on the weekends who think they run the world.

Am interested in how the show will develop.

When I pulled up my browser?

Top search of the moment on German Yahoo was depression, and I don't think it was about the financial crisis. I didn't wanna look. I'm sure my dearest friend would agree. She just lost her long-time pet companion, Boy, a beautiful, beautiful black cat.

It's gonna half kill her.

And am so sorry for that.

Best news of the day?

No one was drunkenly singing in the courtyard. They gotta work tomorra...

Tja.

New series on PBS about the Prohibition...

2011-09-30T21:07:00.002+02:00

Sounds awesome, and stories my grandmother told me came to mind. Like the time she was way pregnant and trained to Bawston to get my grandfather some booze. And she had the bottles hidden in pockets sewn inside her dress, And a 'gallant' policeman wanted to accompany her home in her 'state', and all she could hear was 'glugg glugg glugg' She died a thousand deaths in that short walk home. And there was the bathtub gin, and kids selling it strolling their dolls in baby carriages, and hawking their goods. Weird time. I'd enjoy seeing the documentary on this.

The director seems very competent.

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Aha.... a new view of the EU problem.....

2011-09-30T20:59:00.002+02:00

Am waiting for her to say it was Goldman Sachs. AHA, she did!

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Sometimes the media is a good thing....

2011-09-29T21:20:00.000+02:00

Nice follow up from Monday.

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more demos.... and Michael Moore

2011-09-29T20:49:00.002+02:00

Yeah, he grandstands, but he uses his voice well.

I was on the telly-phone tonight with D. She is moving into their apt in the Mühlgasse. She really shot me down about Obama criticising the banks here. The Pot-meet-Kettle thing. I told her not to bother, whe was speaking to the choir...

So it wasn't just me.

I can still go into Austrian outrage mode.

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GOOD....

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Even better... not so much rhetoric...

And I hate the ads they run before a block.... Exxon Mobile and Goldman Sachs... REALLY...

White Shirts are the new Black Shirts? I nuovi fascisti..

2011-09-27T13:44:00.004+02:00

The right to protest quietly died under Bush... but O'Donnell gets it right.

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Ewww, am a 'Red Scorpion'

2011-09-27T09:17:00.004+02:00

Saturday, I finally gave in, and my knight in my game joined a guild.

Oh Lord, a guild! Buncha crazy people who obsess over some interest they have in common . Although the only ones I know here who are visible are the Carneval ones. Buncha crazies.

So this figure in the game named 'Joe Black', which I found very fitting, as that was Death's name in 'Death Takes a Holiday'... asked me to join his guild, 'Der Fluch'. (The Curse). Turns out my level is too low and would drag the guild's standing down, so he told me to go to the center of Randol, (always the starting place in the game and from the figures there, I call it 'Rambo'). There I should reach 'Sternchen', (little star) and ask for membership in her guild, which is in reality a subdivision of Der Fluch, which he runs.

So I got admitted to the subdivision, the 'Red Scorpions'. ( 'Hey ma, look down, I finally joined a GANG!') The subdivision is for any figure under level fifty, and Sir Arrogant Numbskull is currently stuck at level 33. I believe I made a grievious mistake somewhere, and can't get any quests, which give you loads of points, and have been having to slog my way through the current level by fighting in the dungeon hours, which gives me about a three per cent increase overall. Drives me nuts. It's sort of a limbo phase.

They call it a farming guild... train you up to play with the big guys.

Joe Black told me that once the figure reaches level fifty, I can automatically become a member of 'The Curse'. Now there's something to look forward to....

And then all hell broke loose on the screen. Windows opening up, people welcoming me to the guild, Joe Black still chatting away, Sternchen saying I should ask her for help, and some Titan saying HE was the leader of the Red Scorpions, and I should contact him if I had questions. It got strenuous having a three-way discussion going on.

I'd figured out most of the things that had befuddled me in the early stages of the game, so there wasn't much... although two things really had me stumped. I was supposed to plant a 'seed of life' somewhere, but was damned if I could find where. Turns out they have coordinates on them, so now the problem is finding the right coordinate. Drive me crazy.

So everyone was nice, and polite, and there seem to be no obligations so far. My figure can run around and do what he does, no forced participation in things it isn't capable of yet anyway. The only difference is that if one of the guild runs across you anywhere, they say hello.

Joe Black was on chat the longest. He's thirty. Thank goodness no more fourteen year olds. I play Sir Arrogant when he is asleep... (I hope). Whatever, we had a good chat, and it was all very easy-going and polite.

I did get the impression that there is lots of competition among the guilds to gain new members. They have battles, you see, and you bring 'glory' to the guild. Or something.

Well, that evening there was an 'event', a 'Chaos Battle' in the desert realm. And Sir Arrogant was asked if he wanted to join. So he got transported three minutes before the beginning, and there was a huge crowd there in front of a castle they had to storm.

My figure jumped the gun to get a head start? And promptly inadvertantly jumped the bridge going into it, landed on the grounds outside the bridge, where there were horrible figures marked in red, which meant he didn't have a chance, (adversaries are color coded), and he was promptly killed in the blink of an eye, which ended the battle for him before it even got really started.

Talk about poor eye-hand coordination with the mouse, hey.

Oh well... next time I will get in the back of the line, and know better.

Whoever programs this stuff really know how to keep people playing and stay curious.

Am still getting the other two figures up to snuff. The High Elf is nearly at Sir Arrogant's level and I still maintain he's blatantly gay, but fights well, and I have a Titan who is getting there. It took me weeks to figure out, but.... you always get mostly stuff from other classes or races, and can make a lot of gold selling them. But if you are doing more than one... well there is a warehouse, so you can store the things they need, and they can pick it up and use it when they are playing, which makes the armour issue much better. They were looking absurd wearing stuff that was patched together as you got them otherwise.

I don't know if I will get the other two to join the same guild, but am certainly NOT going to join one called 'Strassenjungs' (Street Boys) Or Geburtstagskind 1 Jahr (Birthday Child 1 year). Way too icky.

Nah, I sorta like 'The Curse'... and don't make any menustration jokes! I hate these words with double meanings!

Several times I've been asked if I wanted armour upgrades from people on line, and sort of refused. The only 'cheating' going on, if well-meant. Although mostly it was stuff I wouldn't be able to use for a long while, or advice on how to tackle something I was having trouble with. This was before the guild. But I would politely thank them, and say I wanted to 'earn' them.

That has always been my problem. If you can't figure it out, you didn't deserve it. Sort of. Someone teaching you how to do something, but you do it on your own? That's ok. So... silly hour is ended.

oh boy... Pot... meet Kettle...

2011-09-27T09:00:00.002+02:00

In the German Yahoo news this a.m. is a short blurb about Obama kritising the European Banks, saying they haven't done enough to prevent the current crisis.

Reeeaally--- ummm... I don't think he should be pointing any finger.

If anyone really followed how Greece messed up and caused a domino effect, well it was good old Goldman Sachs who sold them tons of junk, just as they and Bear Stearns and the others did in the mortgage market in the US, and they got left sitting with nada--- and the bonds people got very rich.

So the EU countries went right ahead and did what 'Murka wants... austerity measures for the poor and middle classes, which they don't want to take sitting down.

The media can say that unrest and demonstrations are race-based, or anything more than about what it is. They fought for their social benefits, and they aren't about to give them up without a fight.

This is why I follow US politics... because whatever craziness is building up over there, you can be sure that we'll get it in some form or other, and it used to be in six month's to a year's time. Nowadays? It's only a matter of weeks.

For what it's worth, and for those who read German, the blurb is here.

This freaked me totallly.... About the death penalty....

2011-09-24T23:47:00.005+02:00

Lawrence O'Donnel shocked me, after all the upset over Troy Davis' execution. He recounts in horrible detail what other people who have done horrendous things and who were executed in the same time period and who did not get national attention were 'ignored'. I was uncomfortable. Because there was one perp whom I would have loved to have castrated personally and watch him bleed to death. Brewer.

But following his logic, as reprehensible as those criminals were.... he comes to a conclusion that makes sense to me, It makes me uncomfortable, true, as above. But really, who has the right to take another human being's life? They should live long and miserably.

It's strong stuff, but Lawrence O'Donnell was the only voice in this past week who went past the sensationalism, and made sense. I thought it was worth sharing. Passionate and very convincing.

And I always love the hypocrisy of the US pointing their collective fingers at other countries which have firing squads.. (well, Utah does)-.... but think it is ok for them to do it, as 'Gawwds' chosen people...

Still, it chilled me.

Watch.

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Rachel Maddow really sums up the week...

2011-09-24T22:29:00.002+02:00

Despicable audiences at the Rethug debates, and the ugly side of the US, the 'Murkins....

And the need for infrastructure. And the governor of Vermont, which is an amazing state, so progressive. It's a fairly long segment, but pulls much together.

And health care.... mind boggling.

Worth watching.

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This is the Obama I like

2011-09-20T09:35:00.001+02:00

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There is a site I have been wanting to recomend for a while now...

2011-09-19T22:39:00.002+02:00

Steve Hayes, who does 'Tired Old Queen At The Movies'... and the first time I ran across him, he really put me off with his schtick. But he has grown on me, because he really knows what he is talking about. He recommends DVDs that are vintage, and tells you the good stuff he knows about what was behind it all.

I've come to like him. And he never recommends a bomb. I can't find his homepage on short notice, but here's a sample. Be warned, the girl is 'over the top' but knows her stuff.

We did cheat that summer...

2011-09-19T21:45:00.003+02:00

Steve, Margot and Chris C and I would sneak out on weekends to see the UNH summer theater productions in English. I don't know if they are always so good, but they had a production of 'A Midsummer's Night Dream' that was so exceptional, and so funny... we went to see it the next night and fell apart laughing.

And we saw 'The Man From La Mancha', which was visually impressive, but easily the weakest of the lot.

And a hilarious version of 'The Importance of Being Earnest.'

And disturbingly... 'The Boys in the Band'. Which I hated. Because it was self-hating. Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf magnified to what the author thought was 'GROUND-BREAKING'. If there were anything devised to make gay people self-loathing, I can't think of one. Voyeurism and disgust combined. It was the sour note in a perfect summer.

One where we laughed and which we thoroughly enjoyed. But going to the theater... yeah, we cheated. But it was fun....

You may have noticed

2011-09-19T20:24:00.003+02:00

That there is a new widget in my sidebar. Followers. I never mess around with my settings on my site, but got a message that I could put them there. Except they changed the name from 'widget' to 'gadget'. I can't figure out what the difference is, people just keep screwing around with terminology.

So it turned out I have two people who follow the drivel I produce. One person I know personally and like very much. The other? I have no idea. Both are from Graz. Or in Graz... my first is actually from Upper Austria but lives in Graz.

So I thought, 'hokay'... it's nice to have someone interested enough to follow your zig-zag line of thinking, and so I added the widget... or gadget.

What bothered me was the 'join' button, and might give people the wrong idea. So for you US people, if you press it... it just means you read my blathering regularly. It would be nice to see some fambly there.

It isn't like Facebook or carries an obligation. But I do know some of you read.

Can I not look like a wimp?

Thank you.

Hmmm.. Dietrich

2011-09-19T17:58:00.004+02:00

Annti was trying to have me guess which old actress she was watching on the tee-vee in NOLA, and I really couldn't guess. Turns out it was 'La Dietrich', the 'divine' Marlene. Gay icon. But not for me. I admired the woman for her courage and pure guts. So I told her the little I do know from this side of the frog pond. I never liked most of her films. But 'The Blue Angel' would rank in one of the top 100 films I have ever seen. Saw it in college during a summer programme that the German government happily paid for. They gave me a grant.... no ties, no obligations, and I ended up being the best in my level, which led a teacher from Munich to encourage me to go there the summer before my jr. year abroad programme, and gave me addresses, and the rest was history.

It was run by the Goethe Institute, and there only two summer schools like that in America. They promote the German language and culture world-wide. One was in my state, the other in San Francisco. I've never experienced anything so intensive, and yet so challenging and pleasureable. In eight weeks.... I did two semesters of what would have been intermediate German. Sound dull? Hardly. It was so exciting. Up till then, I'd been working 80 hour weeks just to pay tuition, commuted the one hour drive just to get to my classes and another hour back, and was fairly overwhelmed, but determined.

So having a leave of absence, and just concentrate on what I wanted to learn? Heaven.

The whole programme was geared to teaching from the level beginners to people working on their graduate programmes. We had our own dorm, our own dining room and the thing was... you had to promise not to speak any english for the entire summer. Everyone helped everyone else. It's incredibly successful.

We had a very structured day. Four hours of class in the morning, a ton of homework, but... since the Uni was not far from the beach, we'd all go out and do it there for the afternoon. Learning and swimming in the ocean, who could complain, hey? I'd gotten my first novella, and got the best advice ever. It was so difficult, and I was looking up every other word. One of my teachers flopped down beside me, and said 'You're doing it wrong. Words will keep coming up and will begin to make sense, and if you only get the gist, leave it. Use the dictionary only when you really get stuck.' Truer words never said, hey. In two weeks I'd finished my first novella, and knew all the fine points of the story. It was like learning to read all over again.

And we were still having fun. Half the staff were from Germany and Austria, the other from my university. And one of the running jokes was... the Germans didn't wear jock straps under their bathing suits. And I think it was a girl named Carol who famously said... 'If you run around like THAT.. they'll either think you are gay... or European.' I fell apart.

Our classmates were people from all over the country. In the evening there were language drills for an hour after dinner. Gruelling, especially for the newbies. But it paid off. There was so much fun, and silliness going on. People would tape signs everywhere to help the newbies. On the stairs... 'Die Treppe, Die Treppen.' My favourite was inside the stalls of the WC... 'Achtung! Fertig! Los!' (Ready? Set? GO!") First time I saw it I fell apart laughing, and couldn't ...go.

After the drills, we got the fun part. For the first four weeks, we saw a German classic silent film, wonderful stuff. When the four weeks were up, the people who had never spoken a word of German before, the newbies, had to get up and perform skits, and it was AMAZING. The silent ones had flash dialogue cards on them, and the beginners had a fiendish delight in yelling them out loud. 'DOCH!' was a favourite. Which sort of means, yes, or 'on the contrary... it has lots of meanings. But is so much fun to use as a contradictary exclamation.

Hard to explain.

Which brings us to the second half of the summer. After week four... we got films with SOUND. And they began with the earliest.... and that is where I saw ''The Blue Angel' for the first time. It was a hammer. As we say. It's incredibly tragic. Staid professor falls for a show-girl who takes him for a ride, and he gets fired, and ends up in the show as an impotent rooster, and goes crazy. Doesn't sound like much, but it was very impressive. The film version of Buddenbrooks also flattened me, a Thomas Mann book that is so rich, it defies description. But the film was sort of like the Cliff Notes version.

So... The Blue Angel. It made Marlene Dietrich a star... world-wide. There was a lot more to the woman, and I admire what she did with her life. But never got into the whole gay adoration thing. I admired her tenaciousness, courage, and never giving up her integrity.

What I forgot to tell Annti. It was the summer of my life. Incredible friendship, bonding, and parties that nearly brought down the roof, and they were hosted by staff on the weekends. It was the closest I got to real 'education', and not 'edumacation'. And I sucked it up.

It wasn't long after when I was back to the real grind when the film Blazing Saddles came out. One of the craziest movies ever made, Mel Brooks. Madeleine Kahn had her first big role. As a saloon entertainer. And she has a big number. 'I'm Tired'. It was the most raucous parody of Dietrich in the Blue Angel, it friggin' floored me, and I still have to laugh till I wanna pee my pants. It helps if you've seen the real version. I DRAGGED Peter to see it later in Graz. He laughed himself silly, but was a bit shocked. The Producers left him spitless. I loved shocking him like that. But this is about Dietrich and Kahn.

May they both rest in peace. And just so's you know... Madeleine Kahn was a trained opera singer.

Sinful pleasures... like reading...so old fashioned...

2011-09-18T16:28:00.002+02:00

My Dad, 'da Ven', used to come up all the way to Portland Maine, and my one big thing was he would read to me. Not doing funny voices, he would read... Yeah, the 'rents were splitting up, and the weekends were totally special, because he would be there.

And there was one book I loved, don't remember it... except I loved it, and hearing him read it to me, so I soon knew it by heart. And one day, we were all in the car going somewhere, and I was 'pretending' to read it aloud when something miraculous happened. I was probably five or six years old. The letters suddenly came together, and I wasn't doing it by memory.. everything made sense. It was so exciting. I could READ....

I don't think I let on right away, his visits were too important for me.

So I read everything I could get my hands on, and became a recluse by the age of twelve. I found my surroundings so ugly, books were my escape, and I was already on the classics by then.

The other kids were playing ball and I missed out on the coordination thing? I didn't mind. I wanted Victor Hugo, and be immersed in worlds I never could have imagined.

Which made me a very strange child indeed. The others were out in the alley playing ball? I was in France in my head feeling bad for Jean Valjean. It drove my mother to distraction, hey...

'Get off those cement stairs, you're going to get PILES' (Hemmarhoids)

I went through thousands of books... literally. And would get overloaded, and get rid of the ones I knew I wouldn't read again. When I moved to Europe, I dragged all the ones that were current, about four hundred, in a big box and gave them to my friend John, and said, 'Just throw away what you don't want, I can't ship them, it would cost a fortune.'

But I kept on reading, and averaged about seven a week, some of them large tomes. Until.... I became disillusioned, because no one seemed to be telling me anything new. And got pressured at work, there was no more time on night shifts in winter to do one of my 'comparative' reading in the middle of the night.

And my eyes got weaker, so I sorta stopped.

But I do have a current sinful pleasure. When my game is running, and if the server is overloaded and a new 'realm' is being prepared... instead of cursing and watching the loading bar on the screen, I returned to the Harry Potter series.

Beginning with book one. So while it loads, I read a chapter, really savouring it. The chapters are short, btw. When I first got them, I speed read my way through them like a junkie who'd just gotten a long-needed fix. Now it is just chapter for chapter, and the story is very rich in small details, and the description is wonderful.

Am on the middle of the fourth novel, 'The Goblet of Fire'. It is so pivotal to the entire story, ending with the physical return of the horrible Lord Voldemort. The film was good.... as was 'The Prisoner of Azkaban', but the novel is so long and there was so much left out, it is a veritable pleasure to re-read it. There was nothing about Dobby and Winky in the film, but it was important in the book, and it was Dobby who gives Harry the weed to breathe under water for an hour for the second task, not Neville.

There is so much detail there. Reading it slowly makes me appreciate it so much more.

I hope children will learn the lesson that tolerance is good. The Rethugs have already damned it to death and banned it from libraries, which made me read it in the first place. I'm sure that they think it is subversive and a danger to so-ci-ety. Or what they think counts as one.

It's a beautiful piece of work, so it is a sinful pleasure to re-read it. When I'm through, I will probably go back to Proust and get through it a third time. It's a masterpiece, and fondly remember an evening with Bob and talking and talking in my beautiful kitchen, and so into it. I think it surprised him that I knew it so well, but, Peter had given me the set of 'La Recherche du Temps Perdu' in German translation, an excellent one. Despite the fact that one sentnce could run for over a page and a half, which is strenuous.... I loved it.

So am now on Rowling. Sue me.

I was trying to think of another prime example of ' murkinness here... and Found it...

2011-09-18T10:47:00.003+02:00

I could probably look up the name in my diaries, which I kept at the time. I prefer not to look at them at present. But there was this 'woman'.... And she worked at the police department. And she was hateful. She was responsible for giving foreigners a work permit and she HATED foreigners.

For the first three years, I had to get my permit renewed yearly, and it was always a tense time. After that, I got a five year one, so was relieved of a lot of anxiety, because... I fucking set her on fire the second year, she was so rude.

You had to line up in the hall with your papers, and me being your absolute klutz when it came to bureacracy, one thing or the other I would forget to bring with me. That was me, totally scatterbrained.

So this one year, I was in line, mostly with Turks, and bothered by the guy behind me who had no sense of personal distance and kept bumping his crotch in my ass, so it made me very irritated. Not excited, just angry. And if you knew what was good for you, you did NOT just enter after your predecessor left, oh no! Deadly to do that, she was a terror.

So on this one day, she was being her usual terrorising self, rude and insulting, and loudly told her assistant, 'I hate foreigners, they STINK.' How loverly. So it was my turn, and she berated me for not having one of the documents, so I went home to fetch it.

And I got in line, and was finally admitted to her inglorious presence... And leaned very close to her to sign some papers to get my permit. Sort of weaving so it would 'waft' into her oversensitive nostrils.....

Because, Preciousses, Peter had given me a very expensive cologne from Christian Dior, which was lemon based and suits me well. And when I went to get the paper I needed, I applied it so liberally, I 'stank'.

Even then, I was already sort of Austrian, I think. Good pay-back, believe me, and I can't even now describe the look on her face. She recoiled, literally. And that stuff smelled VERY nice.

After that, I always made sure she was on vacation when I had to deal with that office, and the others were very kind and polite. But she was a real hag.

Prabably a Nazi background, who knows.

So yeah, we get the bad apples too.

Just a memory. But I had a hell of a lot of fun doing it.

Gawwd give me strength....

2011-09-18T10:36:00.001+02:00

Pat Robertson probably has dementia himself. I hate looking at crazies.

How Rethugs think

2011-09-18T09:55:00.001+02:00

What I've said all along, but the incredible audacity of putting it out there like that as if it were something logical and 'acceptable'.... takes my breath away.

Am glad I wasn't fully awake yesterday evening....

2011-09-18T08:43:00.004+02:00

We have our own brand of empty-headed yahoos here... (and am referring to the Jonathan Swift brand, not the website).

I had a long nap, and went out for cigarettes. Waking up is a long process for me, so am not up to speed with being quick-witted, which in this case was a good thing.

There was an 'elegant' woman at the vending machine, fumbling around. And said to me in pidgeon german, 'I not know how this works...' If I'd been fully awake, I'd have known she thought I was some 'dirty ferner'.

Instead, I asked, 'What's wrong, is it defective?' In perfect high german.

And she said she didn't know how it worked, the poor dear. 'I keep putting my bank card in, but I can't get any cigarettes out of it.' 'Well, you have to put MONEY into it, just like you do if the store were open, and wanted some.' 'But I wanted to debit it on my bank card.' 'It doesn't work that way.' 'So it's just so that minors can't buy any?' 'That is correct.' Somehow she got two packs out of the machine, and felt vindicated that it was debited to her account. Which is a lie, she'd have had to put in her pin code, and that isn't possible with those vending machines. You CAN do it with a handy (cell phone), but I don't know how it works, to tell the truth, and and told her so as well.

Well, she had her two packs, and gave me a vicious, 'good luck with THAT' as she took off for parts unknown. She was incredibly rude. And basically dumb. Well-dressed, but dumb. If I'd been fully awake, I'd have given her fifteen pieces of my mind for free.

But yes, we have these incredible people who feel 'entitled', and show how lacking they are in intellect as well... and have the gall to look down at everyone around them so they can feel 'superior'. ´So it's not just the 'Murkin blend', Preciousses. There are snots everywhere, believe me. I got mine in no time flat, and congratulated myself for having been restrained, but that isn't really a believable thing. I knew I was quiescent because I wasn't fully awake yet. Otherwise, I might have made a 'SCANDAL'.

And so it goes... to quote Vonnegut.

My BAD...

2011-09-18T07:18:00.003+02:00

For those of you who didn't know who I was 'talking' to below, well that must have seemed like a crazy idea... and what with the way prices are nowadays, and all that... well it was bad judgement clouded over by early teen memories.

Ah, the Sixties, hey. One day I was taken aside and asked, 'Hey, ya wanna go to New Yawk for a cuppa corfee? That's all we'll be doing, but we're goin' for corfee.' And I thought, 'Riiight.... this is the craziest thing I ever heard of.'

But of course I jumped at the chance. What an adventure for an early teen! And we drove down there, a six-hour road trip, and we had corfee with his in-laws in Germantown, never saw a glimpse of Manhattan, but it was all fine with me. I was in New Yawk, and had a cuppa corfee. And then we drove back, another six hours... And I thought, 'what a crazy, reckless, adventurous thing to do...'

So they have always been that for me... doing the unexpected, never afraid to try anything new, and so forth and so on.

But I'd hardly published that below, and only did it on the Blog so I could put in some music samples, when my cynical adult thinking cap flew off the dvd cabinet and onto my head. Why would they go all that way for a cup of coffee? And my oldie self said, 'wake up, RenB, there was probably a crisis with her 'rents, one that could only be resolved in person, and they took you to be a buffer, or something.'

I hate my adult cynical thinking cap. I usually try to hide it behind the dvd bookcase, because I don't like it.

And the fact of the matter is.... I don't CARE if that might have been the case. The fact is, they left me completely oblivious and gave me an adventure I will never forget. And THAT was the important thing. I could cite numerous examples of being used as a buffer where it was obvious and ugly, but why go there? No, it was perfect for me, no matter what the real reason was.

You might think I'd have been insufferably priggish on the following school day. 'Whatcha do?'

'Ah, nothin' much... went to New Yawk for a cuppa corfee.' That would have been a conversation stopper. Butcha know what? I didn't. It was my sneakret, my adventure, and I kept it inside and treasured it.

I think the only time I ever mentioned it was when Katrina was closing in on NOLA, and I begged Annti to get in her truck and drive to Atlanta for coffee explaining why it made sense and citing my cousins' example. I never even told Peter about our 'fine adventure'. It's always been mine to savour. And now it isn't any more, if I'm putting it out here.... And thank them for doing something so special for me then, and so many times since.

So, with those pictures in my head, it seemed important to just goad them into action without thinking about costs, and that they probably don't have much to do there any more, now that her parents have passed on... But we all love Sondheim's music, and I meant well.

That's what happens when you become a Broadway musical queen. You get all 'excited'. And then reality bites.

I shall keep my adult cynical thinking cap well hidden, meanwhile.

Thinking caps sorta suck.

This is for my cousins.....

2011-09-17T21:03:00.004+02:00

Follies opened in New Yawk. Great reviews, clouded by the memory of what was a gigantic sucess at the time forty years ago, with the gorgeous Alexis Smith, Yvonne De Carlo, Elaine Stritch, and so many incredible people, it boggles the mind, and I kick myself to this day for not having seen it in Bawston.

Except it wasn't a hit at the time and didn't run long. It was incredibly expensive, for one thing, and ahead of it's time. It's about a group of people who had been in a Ziegfeld sort of Follies, the theater they played in is about to be torn down to be made into a parking lot, and Weisman (Ziegfeld) gathers his troupers for a last reunion. So you have the reunion sort of thing, which everyone always dreads, whether it was just high school, or whatever. And a lot of reminiscing. And it is very dark. People still holding torches, people on the verge of nervous breakdowns, and to top it all off, they have a second cast of the people when they were young. There is a fantastic number where the women are looking in the mirror trying to remember who they were, and the younger versions 'mirror' them... innovative, and breathtaking, have seen clips. It's dark, funny, and near-perfect. And by the way, Follies wasn't meant to be the show, but a play on words... as in folie... french for delusion. One of the enduring hits was 'Losing My Mind'.

The music is pastiche, from vaudeville to more modern. Bernadette Peters (a godess if there ever was one) is headlining. And again... that music is classic.

So if you're planning to go to the City... I wouldn't miss it if I were you. And it can be acid as well. Here's a nice sample of what Elaine Stritch did with her signature number Broadway Baby. I love that song, so Jolson. She's 80 now, but killed them at 40.

Another of my favourites is 'Could I Leave You?'. It's so bitter, but we've all been there. I picked the one I liked best. It's quiet at the beginning, but Donna Murphy owned it by the end. I had a few moments like that with Peter.

It's always struck me that when Sondheim composes a waltz.... the text is invariably so negative it jars you. Think of the pie song in Sweeney Todd... it was a waltz. And believe me, every song in the show is stellar. And still sorry I missed it.

So if you have something to do there.... maybe plan a real night out, and have dinner at your favourite restaurant, and see something incredible. It took fourty years to put this together again, and it will be the best anyone will do in a long time.

Since the Berlin Servers are down, and am a bit tired of skeletons with obscene codpieces...

2011-09-17T18:58:00.005+02:00

will explain about this photo in a bit. It's been sitting on my desktop for over a week or so now.

There are two things which sort of were running around at a near boil on the back burner of my mind this week.

Culminating in the way Rachel Maddow tossed just about everything of what they had planned to 'cover' the plane crash at the racing track in Reno. My objection? No hard facts... how many dead, how many injured, well obviously a lot of people, judging from the constant replaying of video clips. And yes, tragic. Typical... first the pilot was 83, and a WWII vet, and then it was, oh he was 73, and an experienced racer. Everything speculation, nothing known. I thought that was CNN's M/O.

However.... it wasn't enough to dump the usually interesting things the show has to offer. It wasn't a national tragedy. It was all 'Well this happened, and we don't know the full scope yet.' Typical GARBAGE.

And after the disaster at Ramstein... some people might remember that crash at an air show at a US base in Germany quite a while ago... it is a mystery to me how air shows are still held, let alone that insane sounding race with souped up vintage planes directly over people's heads. (I explained that this morning to my tobacconist, and she LOOKED at me.... and I shrugged and said, 'well, it seems to be the only one. People never seem to learn.')

And all I could hear was Werner's voice in my head... 'why get worked up? It's just Business (dripping acid), and it's just Show Business'. Well... people are dead, after all... Or badly hurt. So why does this merit any mention here? I was thinking of the critically injured who will survive that, and what lies ahead for them... some of them could be financially ruined. Insurance companies are ruthless.

Which brings me to the other topic which has soooo gotten the media's panties in a twist. The reactions of the ultra right wing to Rick Perry defending the death penalty in Texas to resounding cheering, and Ron Paul, who is a medical doctor, saying that if someone hadn't prepared for a medical emergency, they should die.

And the media pundits thought Alan Grayson was committing gross hyperbole when he did his infamous explanation of the Rethug plan for health care. He was serious, and the events of the week only proved how serious he really was. 'Don't get sick. And if you do, die quickly.' Niiiice. And seems true enough given the reactions from them and the Tea Party types.

The 'liberal media' was shocked. So shocked. Hand wringing, head-shaking...

Reallah.... Really? I have never seen such an open show of disingenousness in the course of one week. They've had it slammed in their faces for years now... did they think it was also 'just show business'? These people are fools if they do.

Now let's put the two together, shall we, and yes, we are back to health care, which should be a basic right.

There is a certain percentage of 'Murkins who have some very odd beliefs, which they profess profoundly and loudly to anyone who will listen, and they have this attitude.

It is their firm belief that if you love Gawwd, (whoever she is), you will be successful in all that you endeaver because she will reward you. Simple as that. So if you do NOT succeed.... well, there must be something wrong with you mustn't there? And you will be dropped like the proverbial hot potater. You aren't worthy, because they are self-righteous prigs. And you will no longer fit in their category of a 'good' person. I've run into this so often in my career, and often it was subtle, but the message was clear. I loved to refer to such empty-noggined yahoos as 'The New Romans'. Never knew much, but were proud of it.

They are the meanest of the mean-spirited, and 'think' they are Christian, but in reality they are selfish beggars who have no idea of what the New Testament is about, nor have they read it, am sure. And are all, 'I've got mine, screw everyone else.'

And now let's turn to the critically injured. In the box seats, so they were well-to-do, those tickets probably cost a lot of money. And now they are going to be hit with bills that will drive them into near-poverty, and I wonder how their friends are going to react, because 'help thy neighbor' certainly isn't in their repertoire.

That sounds crass put so bluntly, but it crossed my mind, yes it did.

Put it together... what is the media ON about? Shocked? Give me a break, they are the most cynical people in the world, so making such a fuss now? They've always known what the 'Murkins are like.

To end... 80 per cent of all real Americans I've met are kind, generous, and sometimes too naive for their own good, but have their heart in the right place. It's the others who disgust me, and unfortunately, they have a very large megaphone. Sadly.