The Fall of Jeff Glovsky
Showing posts with label Autumn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Autumn. Show all posts
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Monday, November 11, 2013
Friday, November 8, 2013
Freundlichkeit (Human) Kindness
"(L)ife in itself is a chain of rainy days ... I think I'll go for a walk with my umbrella" - Sun-Young Park
'Kickin' it old school', as the kids say ... pen and an actual notebook, loaded with paper, not apps and icons, in hand ...
There's something to be said for people-watching -- Leute beobachten (or Schadenfreude, as the case may be) -- or spying, as the good people of the Gärtnerplatz in Munich keep saying.
A sort of equivalent to New York's Union Square, der Gärtnerplatz -- minus the nodding junkies, the smelly nutters, the ridiculous "protests" ... the homeless with pent-up, directionless anger ... directed toward themselves, at bottom; but then, at white people, black people, chess winners and losers ... People with hair, and wearing glasses. Or not.
At the world and everyone, every thing in it.
... unlike Union Square, in fact.
Der Gärtnerplatz is not unpleasant.
November wird hundsmiserabel, I think rudimentally to myself - like I'd think to myself forty years ago, when English was a new language. Then twenty years ago, when I first visited Munich, I instantly felt that I'd spend some time here. Relatively quiet and small, i.e., liveable, compared to the ugly, pretentious slut, Berlin and that clenched New York pretender, Frankfurt.
"Franky-Boy! Mr. Albert Sinatra!" the DJ'd announce giddily ... and the bar would erupt in a marble-mouthed chorus - like a room full of stroke victims, shouting heavily accented, tone-deaf English: Ist! Op! Zum! Du! New-York, New-YORK!!! ...
"Franky-Boy! Albert Sinatra!" the DJ'd cry, and the Weissbiers would hoist to the sky and I'd sigh, and just know I at least had to try and get back here!
"Polizei! Hilfe! Polizei!" A night cry ...
I slip out the door of my terrible pension, across from the station, and go down to see.
There's a guy on the ground, with a boot in his back: "Release me!" the guy's yelling up, in English, to a man in green, one of Bavaria's Finest. "Bullenschweine!" (the guy's switched to German) ... "Sofort!" he shouts to the boot in his back (and the cop's deaf ears). "Release me!" he Englishes again, "Immediately!"
The Bavarian cop presses down in a Schuhplattler.
"Free sex! She was giving him free sex!" the guy yelps.
And nobody is really quite sure what that means.
The next night, I spy the guy, Larry, rolling (for he'd had a chair, and been unceremoniously dumped from it the night before by the 'man in green', one of Bavaria's Finest) through the Gärtnerplatz.
I ask him what happened: what he'd done, and why he was being arrested?
"Wasn't me," he avows.
"Yes it was," I avow back.
He asks me to wheel his chair "just up the street".
Well, I'm not sure what to do, really. 'Kindness breaks no bones', as they say here ... but I don't have time to be wheeling Larry! The German autumn night is young, and I'm supposed to be meeting meine Frau ... Meine Frau ist stinksauer auf me mow ... er, now ... and I was going to bring her some Blumen flowers.
Eenie meenie meine Frau ...
Can't be wheeling Larry now! But he's an American, like me, in Paris ... Larry, Gene Kelly and I ... start pushing, his weird German wheelchair across the Gärtnerplatz.
"That's it," he grunts, "just up here." We get to the steps of the Staatstheater, and I start thinking Larry might have a date too. Gonna meet up his love for a night at the opera ... but no. Larry asks me to hang a right.
Then another ... We go around again ... Twenty minutes or so later, we're back at the steps of the Staatstheater!
So, "This is where we part, my friend ... "
"Oh, I'm your friend now," the strange(r) Larry snaps.
I leave him, sitting in his chair as it begins to rain, again, in autumn Munich ... ein Sauwetter!
Not getting better!
November wird hundsmiserabel ...
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| "The Shadow", ©Jeff Glovsky |
Monday, November 4, 2013
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Deep Autumn
So I've figured out how this all works ... This "social media" nonsense, and the keeping of accounts and pages ...
It's like this: nobody gives a shit about what you post. Nobody's reading. Nobody's watching or "following" you, and if they are, what for? People are told what -- and who -- to read, watch and follow -- and "like" -- by recently posted ("freshly pressed") feeds, and under the same rules of engagement as back in high school: the prom kings and queens with already large followings migrate their real worlds online ... and beyond this, they all bring their real world je ne sais quois with them too - which lead to advantages, always have.
I only bring baggage. I'm damaged goods, in personal name and reputation. Those who know and matter -- my own real worlds -- know better; those who don't yet, but might like to ... Might "like", or be looking, to follow or "friend" ... might initially be scared off or stopped in their tracks.
I know for a fact this has been the case on many occasions since 2010 -- and at this point, it's tiresome. But the damage is done, the damn damage inflicted ... Goddamn you for damaging me ...
Damaged goods.
But where was I?
Oh, right. Social media ...
So if I did believe anyone was reading, and delusional enough to think they cared, I'd be like, "Sorry for being out of touch on my blog for a couple of weeks. Lots of new posts coming soon!"
This would be ridiculous. I'd be talking to myself. Suffice it to say, the offline world is much more interesting - always has been to me, always will.
Still, I do enjoy 'putting things out there'. Read it, don't read it. "Follow", don't follow me. Don't waste (my) time, though, trying to weigh in: my peanut galleries will always be closed. No offense, but I'm not looking for "friends" here.
I'm only here for the SEO ...
Thursday, October 3, 2013
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