There's another context to the post below... Peter

I spoke with him.  He said, 'Oh yeah, she was here today.' 

'No she wasn't she's in Graz.'

(stubborn)  She was, she comes often.

Siiiiiiiigggggghhhhhhh.   (big one)  Seemingly there is someone among his caregivers who he thinks is her, and he was ALWAYS antagonistic toward her in a passive agressive way.  Let me tell you, preciiousses, I learned from the best.

It began when I started at the no-tell 'ho'-tel.  First day I walked there, there were 'women of the NIGHT', and one at the stop light outside looked me up and down and said, 'How about it, baby?'

And I thought, what the hell am I getting INTO, here? 

My first night shift, Peter trained me on what to do and the whole bookkeeping, blah stuff, and there was a pause.  I looked like the green rube from rubnikville back then.  And he said, 'Listen, I wanna get rid of all the rabble, the pimps reckoning up with the prostitutes in the lobby and turn this around to be a really good middle class hotel.  Will you help me?` 

And I said 'yeah, tell me how' and it involved a third person who made a mess of money procuring, and providing rooms.  So I just had to turn anyone away who wasn't kosher.

It took three years, and in all that time, Peter and I were not an item.  But we turned the tide and turned the clientele base around to travelling salespeople. 

And every night he took this sadistical delight in calling her...  always shortly before ten p.m.  and really doing a number on how she was doing business.  And if I objected, it was ' I know what I'm doing.'

Whatever it was...  her spirit is getting back...  he sees her every day.

What is WRONG with these people? Da Ven just vented.

I'm not going to qualify this with anything....  Could just as easily have labelled it 'Talk of the Town'.  But really, how callous do you have to get in this day and age?  And heroes?  We were just talin' about em below?  Well, my take on things isn't so askew as I thought.  Since when do you get sued for saving a life?   It has to be the heat...

This should be good fodder for your blog . maybe you read about the life guard

at the beach who went in and saved a guy from drowning, and got fired because

the guy he saved was out of bounds

 He was past the sign that said in this section your on your own, so the life gaurd was supposed to let the guy drown because he was not in his jurisdiction,

the people who hired him said there would be a liabilty . After the news broke he was offered his job back but had to stay in his area,  The hero refused to go back , serveral other guards walked off the job , at the time, how about that for  bullshit. 

 

 

wring me out and hang me up to dry before I go mouldy...

Which means it's friggin' hot.  And for nine...  NINE! days runnin'...  my cubicle of an appartment...   well I guess the thermomerter froze at thirty, because that bugger hasn't moved a milimiter from 30, 31 degrees because it LIKES it there.  The inhabitant does not.  And every day, sure as shit, we get warnings toward evening:  'Hey, bad thunderstorms comin' your way, batten down the hatches'.   About ten minutes before the actually hit.  Oh, they are lovely, they are.  Thunderstorms are dangerous here, btw.  They bring hail.  Up north of here, they came down the size of golf balls the other day.  We got little pebbles.  Outside it got to 37, 38, records were broken and the ditz brains on the radio were just chirping away, what a terrific summer, and go swimming and drown, or be glad you're not in Italy.  Jeebus.  One day they will get such a crank call from me.  For them, everyone is always on holiday or an extended weekend.  So how come they work?

Yes, I'm being a piss-poor sport about stoically going through a heat wave, it's not like we haven't had them before.  My problem is that all my windows face south and there aren't any on the other side to cross venitlate, and cool my four walls down. 

But today was special, because, for the second time in six weeks, we had a notice that they were gonna turn off the electricity for several HOURS.  And I thought, 'hokay, I'm living in rural russia or someplace worse.'  So I stayed up all night and created a fourth new character in my game.  A gay beschi...   sorcerer.  So-called because their armour looks like they've been on circuit parties in Miami and Fire Island.  But they're cool, and fight well.

And come early morning, it was time to check what happened yesterday on the Ven's soap, Days of our Lives, which isn't much of anything...   I'm waiting for Melanie to finally break out of the basement she's being held captive in...    And General Hospital, which is my poison of taste at the moment.  I had never known it was about two mob families, and that is sort of The Godfather on a never-ending loop.  Currently there is a psycopathic lady in it who causes me the only merriment I get in an otherwise dull day.  Whoever plays her is a joy to watch.

And rounded it off with some msnbc news shows, which is actually the topic here, not the heat, not the weather, not my sour grapes attitude.  Since it is the Fourth of July weekend, I guess, for those in the US. 

There seems to be an increasing, and to me, very valid concern, that...  having a vounteer military isn't exactly a 'perfect' thing.  It means that only one per cent of Americans serve.  (Something Bush and his cronies love, am sure...)...  What it means in the long run is that military families end up being a different sort of 'elite', except they are treated badly.  But the topic is suddenly being brought up with surprising frequency.  There IS this disconnect, 'oh yeah, you go and fight for us, you're fucking heros and heroines, but hey, we got our lives to live, thanks for your service.'  It is never said that way, but that is the attitude.

And just before the power went off, there was a clip of admiral Mullen ruminating about it, and what he was saying was, it's a problem.  And I never thought I would say it, but he's right.

In the Viet Nam era, there wasn't one family I knew who wasn't affected, hardly a family I knew who hadn't lost someone they loved in that dreadful, stupid war. 

Iraq?  Iran?  They've been fighting so long, most people don't even know why.

And then they get spit out of the armed forces and treated shabbily at best, or regarded as loose cannons.  Which is a shame.

Y'know, when I was a kid, there was the war in viet nam.  I didn't know ONE family who wasn't touched by it, or had losses in their families, tragedies, and they treated those vets worse than any war vets I can think of. 

But everyone was involved, everyone  had a side, everyone was personally concerrned with those who were conscripted.

I do have an inkling, and repeat, inkling, about what the military is like.  I was in the Civil Air Patrol and did a two week sort-of basic training on an air force base.  And at the height of the controversy about DADT, I described that to a cousin.  There wasn't a second in any day to think for yourself.  It was react, react, react, drill, polish, and gawwd help you if you didn't have your neighbor's back.  By the end, you were a cog in teh machine, a unit, and having a moment for yourself?  Oh, that was non-existant.  And I know, not all of service is basic training, but it can sure form you into what they want.  So self is nothing...   watching out for your others is everything, being safe.  DADT was stupid.

And what was a culture of its' own became a subculture.   In my opinion.

I wouldn't DARE speak to anyone in the service the way some people do...   and that shit-ass, 'thank you for your service' makes me want to puke every time I hear it.  It sure doesn't stop Joe Walsh from going after Tammy Duckworth and villifying her for 'talking about her service all the time', the friggin' bottom feeder.  Service is only good if you keep your mouf shut?  Do tell.

Or denigrating Kerry's service in the most horrendous ways...  it was appalling.

Whatever, there was an interesting clip of Admiral Mullen on yesterday's news.  His concern about the increasing divide between those who serve, and the great unwashed populace.  And he didn't say it, but I think there is an idea that everyone of a certain young age should serve their country.  Many countries have that rule, and Austria does.  You either serve in the military, of if you are a conscientious objector, you serve in social services, ambulance duty, or helping in hospitals, for instance.

You basically give up about a year of your life for the well-being of your country. 

And as it happened, I would have done the military time when I got my papers.  Except...  they dawdled so long, I was already too old, so it never happened.  But I would have.  Everyone I know has, it' a rite of passage that got stolen from me. 

Actually, it#s sort of morbid to think about..   you're thirty-six, you're too old to serve your adopted country.  I never felt good about that.

I think that sooner or later, things will go in that direction in the US.  And I wouldn't even think it a bad thing.  It should be about instilling the feeling of a common bond, a community, a nation. 

And no, am not going ga-ga or conservative.  But some things seem just to be...   the right thing to do.

So this weekend, GAG on the 'thank you for your service' shit.  Wouldn't it be a perfect world if you could ask  'Is there anything we can do for you?'

Oh yeah, that's sappy, soooo...   chalk it up to the heat, chalk it up to my hours of being electronically dead and sour grapes, chalk it up to whatever.  But in my perfect world...   that wouldn't be a bad thing to do.

Hope my relatives will be in Portsmouth this weekend.  Beautiful town.

And that is about as much sense as you'll get from my fried brain tonite.

Aua....

which means 'ouch' in German. I did my duty call to Peter. (shrug) My eyes are 'sweating' ... again.

In which he asked me three times if I were going down there tomorrow.

After telling him three times I'd be there on Monday. Aua... 'There are intensities to how you say it, and it cut into me. Deeeply.

To top it off, I got some terrible news yesterday. It set off my waterworks, and I will and cannot speak about it. My eyes start leaking and don't wanna stop.

It was like a major earthquake for me... or a break in the watermain....

Ya know... sometimes Gawwd, whoever she is, can be a real bitch. And you get all the stuff 'bundled', and it comes at once and knocks you down? Like a flood or a mudslide? That is sort of how it feels, with a kick in the 'nads for good measure....

Does anyone know a remedy...

To stop your eyes from 'sweating'???

Because I do NOT.

oh. oh. I do NOT want to GO there. I just do NOT.

Jeebus F'n Cripes.

Fun, huh? I would have spent a mess of money today to get to where Peter wasn't any more, because I am too insignificant to matter to the people in Wagna. Gamlitz would have called me, they have.

I think they gave up on him. In Wagna.

Oh, this is so bad... owww. They didn't do doodley squat for him. Oh yeah, I found him. Holy crap... His voice is an echo of what it was, they didn't do shit for his lungs. It's 'reedy' a whisper of what it was.

I sort of have faith in medicine here. I do. But I guess I am gonna haveta just accept that he won't get better.

We all have to accept that one day, there is only an exit door, and people go through it, and leave you all alone.

Till it is your turn to go through that door.

I'm going to have to be strong.

The horrible thing is: I DON'T KNOW HOW!

Not right now, at any rate. I have Sunday to figure it out, Am not a Wuss... but THAT call, was like a knife cutting me.

And I KNOW they have dying rooms in the basement.

And HE sounds TERRIBLE.

I can say, 'I love you', odd, but I still can. And he can still say, 'Oh, my dearest dearest beloved friend I love you too.... '

And I want to SCREAM at him, and yell, 'Then get BETTER, dammit!'

But I don't think that this time, it will happen.

Oh listen, I KNOW this happens all the time. I KNOW that people lose people whom they cherish and love, and it isn't 'special'. Everyone goes through it. I KNOW this. I've been around long enough to offer a shoulder, give what comfort I can, I'm not exactly stoopid...

This weekend is gonna be lonnnnng.

And heart-breaking. The best people give you one hell of a roller-coaster ride..

There are days....

When you just despair. I am not talking about catastrphic stuff,, or immediate changes to your life, you just lose faith in anything.....

Add to that it is radical, and everything is so BLACK, it sends you straight to the despair place. The horidays send ne to the bottom of this supposed pit. But it is real, and you can really 'go' there... In your mind....

But it is much more because you can't do anything and are helpless.

It has nothing much to do with my daily life. But much to do with the big picture, and the fucking paint is dripping.... And you just want to tear your hair out, and fall apart, because you can't make it right any more, you know?

Gawwd, am I angry at the injustice of it all! Yes, I am fucking angry with the power of ten thousdands suns.

Its' been a bad three days, whaddaya want, hey...

I am going to have to face the fact that I am going to face a major loss, and probably sooner than I would wish.

And it makes me literally sick.

Hope you had happy horridays.... I just cringed. Peter's voice was so weak, and I didn't have the money to get there.... Yeah, all rise and praise whomever....

Well, I am just not good with this stuff. I don't believe in niracles, and yes, Peter is gonna die, and I hope that all will be ok, as far as care is concerned....

And that he doesn't suffer....

Not seeing him every day... he calls and doesn 't know what day it is... his voice has gotten weaker and weaker over the phone.

Everything is fairly well gone. He could be so spectacularly witty and funny, and so special... and now all us gone. Not his fault. It just isn't there any more and he just needs someone to hold him till he goes into his 'good night'.

So this is driving me fucking crazy.

Yeah, someone is gonna say this is bringing the 'drana queen' out in me, but you know what?

I know what I see, and I know what is gonna happen.

And there are some days... I am not good with all of it and would like to go out on one big drunk, but you know what? I don't. Because I would NEVER come back again. Ever. So I just mosey on and have to feel the pain.

More snow...

And I had to take Peter downtown to his bank person. And it snowed. Fine wet snow.

Can we say I didn't LIKE it, Preciousses?

When it snows here, I go into hibernation under my blankies....

And cuddle in the warmth...

But no...

Had to go out. And bring Peter downtown. On the fucking bus.

We must have a horriday, they let the ramps down.

Wonder of wonders, hey....

The driver didn't 'like' my sarcasm. Uh-uh... Ask me if I care...

So somehow we got the the bank... and for the very first time in over thirty years....

I messed with Peter's finances.

I TOLD the guy... 'You get him to sign this that his telly-com bill gets automatically taken from his account. Because I am not going into a fight with them for a month again when he forgets next time.'

And I WALKED.

I am so glad I do not have that provider.

Ruthless.

So I rolled him home through the snow, we got some groceries, and went home. Ramps out, ooooo.....

He ate a bit, and then fell asleep.

I was looking at things on his internets... he wakes up after half an hour and asked.....

'How long have you been here?'

I remained calm.... and said, 'You just slept half an hour... and we were in town and it was snowing...' (Now the killer) 'Oh, I forgot.'

Right.

Listen, I knew this was coming....

But when it comes.... no one is really ready for it.

He can't concentrate on anything for more than ten minutes.

At the moment...

It breaks my heart.

And you are so ill-equpped to deal with it. Really.

So you take a deep breath, and try to remain calm, and do what you can....

When you WANT TO SCREAM and SHOUT and be VERY NASTY, because it isn't fair.

Except you do not. It is inside.

NOTHING is perfect, ok? Nothing.

But I KNOW... if Peter doesn't do something soon on his own... he will die.

Because I think he WANTS to. I can talk myself blue-in-the face... nada, niente, schon gar nichts.

For those of you who have known him in his 'good years'.... and he was already ill then, he was funny, brilliant, had a history.

Before, he was athletic, interesting, knew so much about the world of theater and arts...

And he chose to love me....

And teach me.... about 'SO-CI-ETY'.... uh-huh...

For all the things in our lives... he made me who I am.

I never gave up anything. I gained.

In his sickness, he did some terrible, hurtful things.

It comes with the territory.

But when I look back....

I miss the man who held me every night like a teddy bear to his chest like a child, and made me feel safe and protected, and go off the next day to want to conquer the world.

And now I just have to look on, and want to cry...,

If you have something or someone good in your life.. use each day to the fullest.

Here we go again....

I ended up crying on the bus home today.... Silently. Just tears running down my face.

How very weak, n'est-ce pas?

No, non, nein... I was furious.

With the so-called 'Christian Democrats'. The ones who have held up gay rights reform here for over 35 years, when the Germans and Spaniards had no trouble with it, and now even Portugal.... but us? Uh-uh.... They won't lift a finger until the central government of the EU FORCES them to, or they won't be in the club. Jeebus, even the English have civil unions, and a few decades ago they were put in jail if they got caught being intimate with what they thought was an inappropriate partner.

How often.... I think 'marriage' and even civil unions are hoke, in my eyes.... And I still think that.

HOWEVER, if you spend 35 years with someone, you should also have some rights and some say in what is decided if things go wrong health-wise.

And as we all KNOW.... things aren't what they should be, chez Ren.

Today was especially bad. Peter can't even get himself up out of bed and onto his wheelchair. His breathing was so bad.... I really think he wants to die, and was just shattered.... shattered.

And I kept pleading with him, 'Let me call an ambulance, you can't go ON like this...'

And he goes off on tirades, I tell you, absolute tirades, and refuses.

The main point here is.... short of a life-threatening crisis like a heart attack or stroke... I have no right to do ANYTHING if he doesn't wish it. Even with the stroke, it was 'touch and go'. Just don't ask, ok?

With the heart attack, it was clear what was happening.

Now... these past weeks have been horrific.

And I get so frustrated, and so bloody angry at him... AND at the government, who can discern who gets which rights.

So yeah, I cried. I'm only human, after all...

I am so relieved....

'The Venerable' (aka my father) came home today, and immediately mailed.

I 'think' he is still 'in transit'. Before getting a new place, where everything is on one floor, and good for anyone handicapped. I won't really be at ease till I know that happens, and have nightmares about those friggin' stairs he has to use to get to the WC.

I keep imagining it will be like something Peter has. I would hope so... light and airy, and easy to get around in.

And to think I was so angry this afternoon... Oh yes, I certainly was. Had a very trying morning, was finally home and it was snowing up a storm. We all know how much I 'love' that....

And I put my key into the lock in the door to the square, turned it.... and it broke, leaving the shaft in the lock.

Which meant going three blocks to enter my house 'the back way'. And I had thought, 'oh yeah, THIS is NOT gonna be a good year...'

Well, Preciousses, it usually comes down to perspective in the end, I guess...

About two hours later... I had MAIL. Just a couple of lines. But it was good to know that 'The Venerable' is back in his own space, and ok.

What could be better than that?

A matter of perspective, see?

Sometimes I think we get blinded by little irritating things in our lives, and can miss what is most valuable.

Oh, that sounds so trite and superficial.... but I do think it is true...

I am so sick and tired....

of all this 'terrorist talk', and the underwear bomber, and so on and so forth, and making people into scared little rabbits.

The 'chances' that you meet one, or become a vicitim of one.... are few and far between, believe me. You have a better chance of being in a fatal accident than getting blown up.

I am not being cynical, or making fun.... how could I?... have had my close shaves with danger...

But it does not mean, you end up hiding under the bed forever....

Ok, just to reminisce, here. I was three hundred yards away from where the Israeli wrestling team got killed in 1972. They were very nice, studied them over the summer.

How THAT ended killed something in me.

I could have got blown up at a train station in Italy, if I hadn't decided to come home a day earlier than I had planned. Serendipity.

One terrifying moment was riding the so-called 'murder train' to Athens. I was so dumb, and so fucking naive, I should have been shot, just for that.

I didn't get a visa, beforehand, and got some immense grief at the border.

Somehow I managed, when I yelled at a conductor in Russian, thanks to my Berlitz phrase book....

It was a 4o hour jouney. No food car, you just went on.

And this 'person' got on in Sarajevo. Said he was a 'student' at the university there, studying metallurgy. I'm gullible, lots of people study into their thirties here....

I mentioned I had been in Munich, and he got really really interested. And said, 'I was in Munich ALL SUMMER, last summer.' This guy was so intense, he frightened me to the depth of my heart.

So I went immediately to defualt... 'dumb 'Murkin'. 'Oh yeah, Munich is a nice city....' Dweeb, Idjit.... you do what you can to protect yourself, and most of the fucking train was empty at that point...

And it was known as the 'murder train', not for nothing.

NO person has ever frightented me like that.

We came to the Greek border, and he was watching me so closely... If I had made one false move, I would have been dead.... and oh yes, he was travelling 'home' to Lebanon, where the people from Black September came from, and didn't know fuck for anything about 'metallurgy' and I hope the Israelis fucking KILLED him.

It is so denigrating to play 'dumb 'Murkin', believe me.

When you sense real danger, the adrenalin goes up, and you do what you have to do, and believe me, that guy was dangerous.

So some Greek guys got on and filled the compartment, and I felt like I was 'saved'. Upon which I got seduced for the first time in my life, but that is a whole different story....

I was just so happy to get away from 'that man'.

You can't know....

I wanted to be saved, and I know I was in grave danger.

What can I say, it was an eventful trip....

Later, when I began working here.... there was the Baader-Meinhof gang, terrorists, and they killed a lot of politicians. And the federal police would come in every night and give us photos so we could call if one of them showed up here, because they were afraid they would escape to then-Yugoslavia. Not to mention the Red Brigade in Italy. Oooo, it was skeery... They never saw the guy on the train to know what skeery is, believe me....

This idea I found totally fucked up. But they were certain....

So now comes the other side of the coin. I think I have told this before, but not in this context.... I hadn't been here all too long, and our secretary was a bit hysterical in her nature.

And I didn't know where to place people, or classify them... It was sorta fun.

The Ho-tel was a mess at the time. Most of the rooms didn't have private baths.. they were down the hall, hey. It wasn't unusual...

So these three 'guys' come in and take a triple without a bath, decades apart.

And our secretary goes fucking off the charts. ' Terrarists! Ooooo. And I said, 'Whaa???'

'Have to be, don't fit together... Are you so stoopid?' And I thought 'Whaa????'

So this paragon of civil rights, and protection person, goes and phones in all the info to the po-Lice from the forms they filled out to register, totally aflutter, and certain, CERTAIN, she has some big fish on a hook.

Well... she got them so excited, they checked it all, and said, disappointingly, 'no.... EXCEPT.... They might be sympathisers and helpers.' Uh-huh...

And they were gonna come and take a look at them... discreetly. Uh-huh.

Discreet was having six police cars pulling up in front of the Ho-tel, with sirens blaring, and they stormed upstairs, broke the door open, smashed those poor people up against the wall, frisked them only to find...

They were evangelical pastors. Whereupon my boss went to lunch, and the fucking wrath of Gawwd descended upon me.

Can we talk about egg on our faces, Preciousses?

I am only repeating this here, because of the current climate of 'fear'....

And I don't think I have ever written about the man who made me want to piss my pants for pure fear. I don't like talking or thinking about him, but he haunts my mind to this day, decades later.

What I am trying to express here is differentiating between pure evil, and nut-job hysteria, and I HATE the latter....

So... to get back to the present day... for me... it is about nut-jobs making everyone hysterical. For the most part.

You do not KNOW what it is like, to look into the eyes of pure evil. Dead eyes, like a basilisk.

You do not KNOW how helpless you can feel to be trapped in a nearly empty train, racing through Bosnia to Macedonia, and feel so threatened you fear for your life....

The rest? Pfft. I'd have loved to be a hero. But I would have been dead. Long ago.

That disturbs me, but I THINK he got his just deserts...

I think we have to put this all into some sort of perspective....

There are good and evil people in this world. And the latter do horrible things.... And we can Fight that.... if we stay together.

But I see NO sense in being scared little rabbits who try to hide in their hidey-holes... And I do not see the sense in why the government wants to put band-aids on what they think is wrong and make wounds fester.

We have a world here that hates so much, and the bigger the chasm between income and quality of life is going to be, the worse it will get.

Just my opinion.... but the whole thing makes me sick.

Ok, what is Windows XP DOING?????

I never mess with my systems settings.. I crashed my first computer so many times, I went fucking nuts....

I NEVER go into the task bar, or look at system things. It just works, and I am content with it...

But TODAY... it decided to Act UP. First I dind't have sound, and then it was so fucking screwed up I had to re-start five times.

And I usually decide to just put it in rest postition if I am out of the house, because it boots faster. (Yeah, I'm an instant gratification person, shoot me...)

Today was way out of the ordinary... Oh yes.

Peter rang me out of bed way before the time I wish to be called. 'Oh so bushy-eyed and furry-tailed, and he had everything ready and wanted to GO. It was ten minutes before seven in the fucking morning!

Uh-huh...

So I got down there, after trying to pull myself into some semblance of 'presentable'

And he fell asleep....

I'd washed and dried his clothes yesterday so he would be some sort of 'presentable'. And since yesterday... oooo.... it was SO important, and SO unimaginably high priority...

So I re-woke him and said, 'Do you want to go downtown or not?' I was pissed off.

And then went into one of his 'helpless' phases. 'Help me put on my pants, you bought them, and they are shit' Wiich made me angry... 'I didn't have the money for better and neither did you, remain still, and pull them up over your sorry arse'.

Yup, am just a bundle of joy....

So I took him downtown on the bus, and the fuckers never opened the ramps and I had to heave him in. It was one of those days where all the heat stink comes down, and you want to choke even if you are healthy.

Try to DO that with a 1o6 Kilo guy in a wheelchair when the fat asshole sitting at the wheel down't park correctly at the curbstone.

YOU HAVEN'T LIVED, believe me. Till you tried THAT one...

So what happened downdown, and why we were there in the first place? I thought we were going to the bank, and he would pay bills, but No...

He wanted to go into a department store, the most expensive in the city..... and buy an electric shaver, so he can do it himself.... He still looks like Rasputin...

I wanted to throttle him right then and there... but contained myself... somehow...

Everything was so expensive, I wanted to take him to shitty.... um City Park, where they have an outlet where things are much less expensive. But no...

So he decided on a Phillips. Good brand... Seventy Euros he doesn't have actually, but did in caswe.h...

S0 Then. he decided he wante hot cocoa at the Sacher Café, in the city hall... uh-huh...

The Cafe Sacher is something 'ELEGANT', and we looked like fucking aliens from another planet.

There were two men at the bar, one of whom looked at me as if 'who let this trash in here?'

It was so uncomfortable. And then some woman who loudly criticised that I had ordered a salmon tramazzini, and ate it with a tiny cup of corfee.... Gawd, how 'Murkin. 'Talking to 'no one'. Uh-huh. Well, I do not tend to do that with a glass of champagne at ten o'clock in the morning. I USED to... but it really isn't advisable... Not for me at any rate...

I have never felt so uncomfortable in such a setting in my life, I hadn't want to go in there, you dress for it, and I wasn't.

He was oblivious, got his cocoa, and his strudel.... dropped his fork, it was absolutely horrible, and I picked up and truned red as a turkey, and I wanted out of there.

He was happy....

It was embarrassing in every sense of the word.

So we escaped somehow from that horrible scenario... and that from the guy who polished my manners, and taught me what IS and isn't done in this society.... And then went and broke all the fucking rules.

So we finally got OUT of there, I hate that place. And I ask... 'errm, now we go to the bank? '

' I never said that'.... uh-huh. Calls me Sunday evening, and thinks it is morning, drives me nuts with what he all ELSE wants to do, and I fall right into the trap. He'd wanted to buy something else, and then he couldn't remember what it was. Three hours later, he knew... A bottle to urinate in.

It got so fucking worse... Hardly home, I made some soup and what he can eat, and the doorbell rang.

It was a neigbor. She wanted us to call a taxi for her... put Peter's phone is still turned off. And my handy is still kaputt.

If you want to be fucking embarrassed, that is already the high point of the so-called 'New Year'....

However... Peter is already busy manipulating his neighbors.

Terrorises me per telephones that don't belong to him, and I keep it short, because those things are fucking expensive...

And I walk in and there was a wooden box on the table.

Hotel Sacher.

No cake in it.... fucking gone.

And I asked, 'Where did this come from?

''My neighbor.'

So I asked, what neighbor????

He is being very circumspect about that.

All I could gather was that this 'person' was in his house. Seemingly with wife and child.

Disturbingly, I found an um-brella in the kitchen today. I had to fucking brow-beat him into telling my why the fuck hell he would take it out of it's stand, and put t in the kitchen??

Just curious, hey... Well, since the fucking telly-com doesn't service him I guess his neighbour does.

He punches it into the ceiling, and the guy comes down.

Whoever the fuck it is....

He 'says' the guy 'espied' a huge volume of a book I gave Peter yers ago and is sitting on his writing pult. It is called, 'Tom of Finland, The Art of Pleasure' and don't you ever go looking for it.

It is pornographic, and I thought, sometimes very funny. While he was alive, his stuff was in art ehibitions.... Just like Robert Maplethorpe, a photographer who was so much mor subtle.

And this 'GUY' says... 'Oh, Tom of Funnlad' He was very interesting

Really?

Peter said he wouldn't let him look at it. I do not believe that for one second.

So... why does he want to shave so suddelnly?

I have my doubts, Preciousses....

As per usual, I do not have trust, and it angers me all the more.

Why the fuck IS it....

That the moment I have just a second of hilarity, and feeling good,

Reality crashes in?

And makes you feel like... I don't know... horrible, and even a bit frightening.

I had just made an evening snack. Had slept most of the afternoon.... And woke up to the oddest dream, and a craving for... chicken pot pie. Which doesn't exist here, and I had nothing in the house to make one with.... It was totally odd.

So I had done some wash, and checked to see how it was drying, mundane junk....

And the fucking phone rang.

I have a telephone with the worst, most penetrating ring in the world, no joke.

And no one who knows me, calls me after 7 p.m. in the evening, so it was 'unsettling', file under 'WTF NOW?'

And it was Peter, 'all bright eyed and bushy tailed' from his tone. When was I coming over, he had so many plans for the day, wanted to buy a shaver, and so on... And I thought, 'WHAAA?'

I do not know how I remained calm, I really do not....

'So when are you coming over.we gotta get going....'

And I thought, 'Whaa?''

'Where you wanna buy something on a Sunday night when the whole fucking country is in lock-down?' I didn't say it... but I didn't get it at first...

He doesn't have a 24 hour clock. And thought it was 7 a.m. Monday, to-fucking-morrow...

Today is evening, Sunday....

He has been using his neighbor's telephone, and I think his neighbor 'got' it. He is 'Rocco's' father across the hall from him. Rocco is a wonderful dog, fierce and neat. Like him muchly, that dog...

Mr. L. is another amputee, don't know why, but Rocco is great. And big....

So Mr. L. corroborated my info that today is Sunday, still. I think it freaked him out as much as it did me....

And said that it wasn't morning but evening. This time of year, with the light and mostly darkness, you can make mistakes, but this was crass.

And Peter said, 'oh, am so sorry, I thought it was tomorrow.'

HerrGOTTnoch mal!.....It crushed me.

It is why I like 24 hour clocks....

And NO.... I know what is happening. And I so hate it, I could rip myself in two like Rumpelstitzchen. Which wouldn't change anything at all...

Sometimes.....

You can love someone so much and believe it will last forevah.

Sometimes....

Other things happen and you need to do something, and you do what you can, because you made a commitment in your heart.

And sometimes.....

That commitment becomes a burden, but you go on.

And sometimes....

you reach a point where you are 'at the end of your art', as people can say here. Where you just do not know or believe you can fix anything any more.

People leave you.... sooner or later. Sometimes unexpectedly, sometimes protractedly, and that is the worst you can ever experience, or imagine.

It is why I love the musical 'Into The Woods' so much.

People will leave you.... And you have no say in the matter.

The thing on my birfday.... I thought it was a brain hiccup. There has been so much since.

If I get 'silly' on my blog.... it isn't because I'm careless or fucking care-free.... Sometimes I need a minute's breathing space.

Or I would kill myself.

There are so many things I do not NEED in my life... and whoa, I know what is coming after tonite. I KNOW....

And it is gonna be fucking devastating, and some one of these days, I will have to watch while they put the one person I ever loved with all of my heart into the ground.

And that way too early....

After so much sickness and suffering.....

Y'know... when you SEE someone fail in their faculties, as well as being so ill....

It rips your heart out, so to speak.

So no, I didn't much like tonight.... and am unspeakably horrified....

Because I KNOW what is coming, and guess what?

I don't LIKE it.

Why I love New Year's Day....

I just got home, and was afraid I was gonna miss the New Year's concert from Vienna fully for the first time in 34 years... They are in the break, but not before I heard a fabulous 'Perpetuum Mobile' by Strauss that was so driving, and frenetic, and I haven't heard it that good in years.

For those of you who do not know.... The New Year's concert in Vienna is an institution. Held in the so-called 'Golden Hall' of the Musikvereinssaal in Vienna. The Vienna Philharmonic orchestra is so wonderful, they defy description.

It is the strings. Every country has a strong point in music. In America, it is the brass instruments, and reeds... No one does it better, and I say that without envy. In Vienna, it is the string instruments... no one does that better, not that I have ever heard....

Almost all the music in these concerts is by the Strauss family. Uplifting, and just beautiful...

If anyone has PBS there, they usually broadcast this a couple of days later in America. People would KILL to get tickets to this... you only get them per lottery. Just the setting and the acoustics are so terrific, you want to melt.

Oh... just heard that they are doing something different this year, using other composers as well.... Otto Nikolai, and Offenbach, for instance. Good move. (Nikolai is on now, was a prussian, and one of our music schools is named after him... He was just as sweet and sugary and light as the Strauss family, but has his own note. Lovely.)

Gawwd, I want someone to get up and waltz with, and Preciousses, I doesn't dance. Always has too much baggage in its' pocketses. Gorgeous. If they keep this up, it is gonna go down in history as one of the best of all time since Karajan directed.

It will end as it always does.... But what I am hearing is so exceptional at the moment, I want to just melt away.... The past few years have been 'par for the course', but believe me when I tell you, I 'know' remarkable when I hear it.

Whoever heard of a RenB wanting to get up and dance about the room? Even alone? Unthinkable.

Oh God, now they are doing the Champagne Polka... Strauss. What is it about the horns here? They always sound muffeled.

This is turning into live blogging. Right now, I want to do a polka mazur with someone.

Silly RenB.... he nevah dances...

Oh the end... is always our sneakret national anthem, 'The Blue Danube Waltz'. Followed by the ever popular Radetzky March. I lurv me that once a year. It is so much fun to clap along with..

Oooo, Offenbach. First opera I ever saw, and the music is magnificent. The story is macabre... 'The Tales of Hoffmann'. If you have never seen an opera, that is the one you should start with, believe me. What they are playing takes place in Venice, and it would be familiar to you if you heard it. And it just broke my heart. I saw it in Vienna, after having seen it in Graz a few times. The Vienna production had top stars, and it knocked my socks off. This was beautiful.

Oh man...

More Strauss with so much verve, it is incredible.

The audience has been reserved till now, but they are warming up, which is normal, sometimes I could throttle them. Let's wait a bit.

Oh... another waltz where you want to melt. Und want someone to dance elegantly with in a tux. Silly RenB... who never dances, or waltzes, unless it is by himself with emptiness in his arms...

When no one can look or make fun of his clumsiness....

Oh... now a danish composer, more champagne... He stole it from Johann Strauss. It's ok. It is pretty. Different, but pretty...

The official part is over. Oh, I wanna polka...

Oh gawwd... our sneakret national anthem, and I'm going to lose it. And the audience is finally going nuts. Yup, am gonna--am crying. Not especially because of the music, which is so beautiful... Peter just called for the second time since I got home. It wasn't good.

I still don't know who this conductor from France is... he is fucking amazing, and sets accents I have never heard before. Oh my gawd, it is so furious, sensuous, and this has to set a record. My gawwd... I have NEVER heard it like this before. Brilliant.

People are screaming bravo... No, not since Herbert Karajan have I ever heard that so good.

The audience is completely freaked.

The veritable end is the Radetzky Mach... The horns sound muffled.

I haven't heard this kind of reaction from a Viennese audience in ages. Screaming, shouting, yelling 'Bravo'.

When I began this idjit post... it was just another New Year's day, and we have our little traditions. And as I explained, I have never missed one in 34 years. Mostly they aren't exciting, they are just nice. And that is whatchoo do, while preparing dinner, and listen...

Most times, it is just, 'aw yeah, heard it before'. Nothing to get excited about.

It is always 'nice'. I LIKE listening to Strauss on New Year's DAY, so shoot me or something.... it is uplifting for me. Bucks me up, so to speak. It's just a tradition.

But once every decade... you get bowled over by the sheer virtuosity of that orchestra if they have an exceptional conductor.

Today was one of those days.

It freaked me out.

If you like classical music, try to catch it on PBS in the next few days.

Extraordinary. And you won't be sorry, I promise....

Well another bet lost, but he didn't disappoint me...

Cheney was on the tee-vee. And of Course he wanted to blame Obama for the underpants terrorist....

And it was wonderful...

And it is midnight, and the idjits are firing into the air, and you would think you were in a war....

Happy fucking New Year. I wish everyone everything good... health, happiness, and all that jazz.

The fire dept. just drove out twice, penetrating sound. Am not surprised.

Happy happy....

Sometimes you think it can't get any worse.... but it does...

Holy shit, where do people get the money to do this? Explosives are expensive!

Sorry, all the noise is distracting.

I would have thought that Cheney would have been out there yesterday, running his cruel nouf.

I lost the bet.

Holy shit! They have rockets that whistle...

I am going under the bed so fast, you aren't gonna get me out of there for a fucking week.

Oh.... my... gawd....

I thought this Sylvester was gonna be quieter, and it is in many ways. I was hoping I would sleep through it, even.... But nope....

There have been firecrackers, and the usual explosions, scaring 'evil spirits' away, and all that junk... rockets red and every other color glare, it is insane. Because, Precioussesss... you set the damned things off at midnight, not starting at four o'clock in the afternoon... This evening is not as bad as years past, really not.

And still... these instant gratification people are shooting their wads all over the place, and I just had to go out and get cigarettes across the square. There is already so much cordite in the air, you can hardly breathe. Not to mention the inversion where you get the stink of coal being burned because people are saving on heating. It is stifling.

I really hate this nite more than any other in the whole year. Yes, I can get grinch-like at Christmas, and bitch. But Sylvester? GET out of my way..... I have never liked it, never will.... especially when they leave every idjit with half a brain set off anything from firecrackers to rockets and unnecessarily frighten people with them. Some people have a strange sense of humour about what they think is 'funny'. I don't know how many people are going to get hurt tonight.

And they will, believe me.

They will blow off fingers or half their hands, it is despicable.

Just while writing this, the fire dept. across the square has been dispatched four times, and hear the sirens going. Way to go....

Y'know... I am the last person to want to limit someone's freedoms and rights. But when it comes to sheer stupidity, endangering others and hurting yourself or others, especially when everyone is drinking champagne... mostly... this is not good. If you are gonna have fireworks... I like the American model most. You have people from the fire department who are not drunk, or half-drunk, and they put on one hell of a show, and no one is in danger.

However... this stuff is a billion Euro enterprise, and anyone can buy anything and set it off this time of year. If that were the case in 'Murka, Homeland Insecurity would have their boxer shorts in a twist..... most dangerous night of the year, hey.

Yup. Money talks....

I just hate it, ok? I get the tradition, but it is so out of hand, it drives me right up the friggin' wall.

Even with my windows, it sounds like a war is going on out there.

And you know what? I hate it muchly. I do.

We have sheeple too... they will gather downtown, drink too much, it is a crush of humanity, and someone is gonna get hurt.

In Vienna, it's a whole MILE of streets, and bistros, and so crowded, I could get claustrophobic just looking at it on the tee-vee...

Which I stopped doing.

And hey... people get hurt....

How is that for 'fun'?

Christ, I'm getting old.....

Except I never found any of it 'fun'.... evah....

Holy moly! someone across the way just shot off two rockets. If someone gets so idiotic, and shoots them through my window, there is going to be hell to pay, and now I will turn off the lights. Its happened, believe me. Idjits.

It's only 11 pm.... and I am NOT gonna stick my head out of winder and yell, 'You are supposed to do it at midnight, you fucking git....'

I need to get a Glock... just for this one night a year, and you want cordite? I will shoot in the air, and give you all the fuck cordite you need.

Arseholes....

Yup, am the cheeriest, most sanguine person in the whole fucking wurrld,,,,

Except on this night, when everyone goes bonkers, and I want a bunker....

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck....

Yahoo just ate two very important posts.... just gone, not in the drafts, not in anything.

Where, please, is this information GOING?????

I am so fed up, I feel I will have to Do something...

Not what you think.

Go to the media....

Nothing is right around here right now.

To top off the year....

Windows XP didn't want to start, and then told me someone had hacked into my system.

Well, Christ almighty, I am really not 'interesting' in any sense of the word.....

It really was the high point in what has been the nadir of my life.

I want to take this last year, crumble it up like aluminum foil, and throw it in the garbage, and I have never felt that way about years... evah.

It began at 4 a.m. I answered some e-mails. Y'know, time differences and all that shit.

And to my utter shock, the post down below got interpreted wrongly, and I had the wrath of the goddess on my head.

So to re-cap..... I do not, repeat, not hate Americans. I learned that something had changed in a broken system and seemingly got better and I was very happy it did, because the policies were so damaging.

There was a back and forth, and before I knew it.... it was nearly nine a.m. and I had told Peter I would be there by then and take him to the bank.

When I got there, he was crying because he thought I'd forgotten. It was terrible.

Just fucking terrible.

But it got worse. It did....

We had some nice bus drivers today. They let out the ramps so I could wheel him up and not fucking HEAVE his 106 kilos into them. Probably because it is a horriday, and they were feeling 'cheery'... Or something. They don't, usually, just look out of winder....

So they don't notice you,

Ya know, if you are lazy or something.

so WOW...

Yeah, today was like a fucking roller-coaster ride.

Except, the drivers were all 'excited'. They zoomed off, braked hard, and if you are standing in one, and used to it...they were not 'normal'. And as we were going back, the driver braked really hard, and I lost my stance. And stumbled and stepped on an old woman's foot... hard.

I'd been concentrating on Peter's wheelchair, and holding it because the brakes are kaputt.

And then I hear, 'OW!' and look behind me..... She must be eighty, or over. It was so horrible, I absolutely am crushed. I would never, Ever, hurt someone intentionally like that. I was ompletely freaked out. It was horrendous. And then she wished me a fucking Happy New Year... Oh gawwdI have NEVER been so mortified. I fell all over myself, apoligising. It was horrible.

As some know.... I have been fighting with the Telly-com. You never want to mess with those folks. I get really nice people on the service line, and ice-cold bitches who probably live at the North Pole, it differs from call to call. Whoever is on the horn, and yes I know, they are service people and probably underpaid, so I am never disrespectful to them.

But some of them... are really of the charts for disresectful. It was about a double of a bill, and the sum was over four hundred Euros. I freaked.I cleared it up, and she calmed me down.

But I told the woman on the line how I had to hear about.... 'he cant get to a phone if he is sick, what if he were to die? ' And got ' that's none of our business. Or when I heard, 'as you might know, after that is Christmas,and I told her that every fool in the world knows when that is, and get off my back.

So I cleared everything up, stressed that I didn't mean her, but that I found some people very obnoxious. And not right in 'the World According to Ren'. You give and get respect in that world....

She seemed sort of shocked. 'None of us are trained so say such horrible things. That is horrible.'

And said, 'No, it was hurtful'.

His connection will be turned back on soon.

Sometimes I feel like Don Quixote going off fighting windmills.

Google has been eating some of my text since I began writing it.

I still got through, and got to the end....

Something isn't right here.

And I am NOT Ghengis Kahn...

It is just about a bad end to a very bad year.

And in that sense... I wish everyone a good new decade... And just btw... This is the third night that I have a leak somewhere, and the air from outside is so toxic, I would like to throw up.

I'm jumping the gun here by one day... But it is an OUTTIE.. I hope...

Sometimes we need something silly to cheer us up. We do... it doesn't need to be anything big... just really off the charts for silliness, where you think... oh my...

Now, as every time after the horridays are over, Sylvester stands are put up with trinkets to bring you good luck. Piggies play a big role in this, but I still can't figure out why. And yeah, Sylvester was a Catholic saint who got martyred, and I have no wish to know how, and never looked it up. It's better not to know some things. But New Year's Eve is called Sylvester here in his honour or horror, however you wish to see it...

It really doesn't play a big role in all this, the piggies do. Because they bring you luck, seemingly, just as four leaf clovers, or chimbly sweeps, and odd superstitious stuff.

And in German, if something bad turned out good, you say 'Ich habe Schwein gehabt'. Meaning you had good luck thanks to a piggie.

Not having lived on a farm, and caring for pigs, the whole things eludes me, but that is what you do.. Ok?

Now.... two days ago, a Sylvester table was set up before the supermarket near Peter's house, and there was a piggie like I have never ever seen before. With a huge outtie navel! I thought, at first. Well, Precioussesssss.. after going by there every day, and not having lived on a farm... I've become a bit uncertain as to the anatomy....

If it is meant as something lower.... that poor piggie...

Sorry, I just cannot make up my mind.

Maybe someone can relieve it by telling me what the hell I was looking at. If I had the wherewithal, I would send everyone I know that piggie for the New Year to bring them luck. So you will have to make do with the virtual one in the post.

See? Silliness can sometimes make you laugh, and make you feel good....

No one I know has had a good year. A lot of us have been hanging by the skin of our teeth. So my outtie piggie is the one who will make next year better.

Which I wish for all. May he bring you luck and joy.

PS... it has to be the navel, because otherwise they would have fit him out with a pink jock strap... Or am I totally crazy? Wishing everyone everything good...

This is sort of trite, but just popped into my head, on my bus ride home today....

1968, and it was a memorable film, and a huge hit... 'Cool Hand Luke.'

And for some reason, that one line became unforgettable to me. 'What we have here, is a failure to communicate! Whoever wrote that should have gotten an Oscar, just for that line...

I know, I know... it was fraught with stereotypes, and so on and so forth, and nowadays, it really wouldn't be politically correct, or probably any good...

Oddly...

I walked out of my workplace one day some months after... and Paul Newman was standing at the bus stop. I couldn't believe my eyes, hey, and thought, 'What the fuck hell is Paul Newman doing waiting for a bus in Manchester, fucking New Hampsha.' ???

So I stayed circumspect, and observed. He had to have been the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

Even better off than on... those eyes...

Now, in New Hampsha... people don't go rush a 'star', and make them uncomfortable, at least not back then... It was on a big four-lane street, and young people across the way recognised him, and started yelling, 'LUKE! LUKE! LUKE! and he grinned ear to ear, a bit bashfully... Then a big black limousine pulled up, and Joanne Woodward was in it and they got zoomed away. Turns out he had been up there, doing some prelims for the presidential primaries....

Back-room haggling, I expect...

I just wanted to share that... it isn't every day you go out to go home and see a huge movie star...

But that isn't what this is about...

'What we have here is a failure to communicate.'

And what we have now... is more than a failure to communicate. It isn't about North or South or East or West.... It is about all the 'cowboys' who dig in their spurs and are just ornery.

And stubborn... hmm... who does that remind me of?

After spending a morning at Peter's---it just popped into me head... right.

He can be so off the charts for irrational, I wouldn't even mind 'teaching him a lesson', and on the bus home I was thinking... 'what we have here... is a failure to communicate', and not in a good sense.

And the Rethugs are the same. Exactly as assinine, exactly as stubborn, exactly as selfish... it is sort of incredible.

Things change... but they don't really.

And what I neglected to TELL you...

I have gotten off the bus twice in the last ten days....

And Peter was sitting at the cross-walk in his wheel-chair, looking forlorn...

EXCEPT...

He hadn't put on his pants, just covered his private parts with some sweaters and whatever he could find, and cover his nakedness....

It gets to be twelve below zero here right now.... And there he was, panicked, and wanted to get across a four lane thoroughfare, to a telefone cell, and crying. Because he thought I wouldn't come see him.

The first time... I fucking flipped out.

He's gotten OUT of his place, seemingly, but can't get back in. Without help. He has to wait till someone wants in and push him up the ramp.

Sometimes he doesn't remember important things.

Sometimes, he doesn't remember what happened an hour before.

This leads me to the worst dilemma of my life....

He wanted me to adjust his sock today, and I nearly threw up. Gangrene smells so awful... you have no idea, and he is just so adamant... 'I'm not going in, because I'm not going to come out'. Uh-huh. No longer any sense in reasoning with the man.

'They are going to cut me again.'

Well, if that is true, he is to blame, because he just let everything go, and it isn't my fault.

Over the decades, I have yelled, been horribly 'hurtful' just to get him to do the right thing, although it hurt me, cajoled, threatened, you name it, have been there, because I cared.

And no, I still 'care'....

But tonight, am 'at the end of my art', as they say in Austrian, when you no longer know what the hell you should do.

Y'know... it is sort of ironic.

You learn to love someone with all your heart, and they are wonderful, funny, sportive, intelligent... and even then, tragedy strikes, and you get confronted with something you never would have believed would happen, because it was 'perfect'.

And felt 'protected'.

And all of a sudden... YOU are the one who is suddenly 'the protector'.

Life is a bitch, in other words...

I'm not complaining. Really not. But am baffled. I so wish that my father had told me more about how he dealt with my step-mother, and I would have been more prepared for all this...

So everything is on a day-to-day basis.

But it can't go on like it is.... He needs round-the-clock care.

And for me....

I don't know who to turn to at the moment.

He needs some serious help.

I don't fucking CARE what people think, or what they say, and gawwd, they have said a lot...

You love whom you love...

And if you make a committment, it can break your heart.

You stand by them. That is how I was brought up...

Sometimes...

I could just barf. I do what I possibly can and go on.