How Not to Live Your Life

How Not to Live Your Life


This is the title of a very amusing British series.

But this is also the mantra of some of the scoundrels that show up at the health club where I do my rounds.

Take this fool, who comes regularly and jumps into the fast lane.
He swims just like a snail would if he had the means to tread on water.

But the thug doesn't care.
Is above the petty consideration for the others that use the lane.

If there are four in the same space, the biker - he rides a motorcycle and that seems to be a large part, maybe the most important of the explanation for his abominations...organ donors ...this is what they are called on some latitudes - is still in the fast lane.
Even if there are only two...or probably none in the other lanes, for medium and slow swimming.

As for his style, he looks like he is punching a boxing bag and using the lateral swings, not the uppercut or some other direct means.
Thus, as mentioned before he barely moves in the water.

And he blocks the lane.
Who gives a fuck?

Not him anyway...

One day, I told him that he hadn't thrown the plastic form the chocolate he always ate in the jacuzzi to the can.
He says...

You're talking to me? Ah...come on...or get lost

And he wasn't satisfied with that.
Aft a few days, when he saw me next, he comes over...

'Hey, watch out!
What?
You have no idea who I am!
Oh, yes, I do...you're the guy who asked me to film your swimming and then came again to tell me to give you an invitation - these are some of the perks of the club, we are allowed to invite a guest or a few, up,to the limit of ten per year...

Then the idiot said something somewhat amusing...

I hate your philosophical conversations anyway...

That was meant in the sense that yes, he can throw garbage for he is some big shot and I have no idea how big a kahuna he is and further more, I also disturb him if not with physical waste, at least with my conversational refuse.

Actually, I don't discuss philosophy there...but I wish I would.
What passes for philosophy for the likes of this brain fart is any dialogue which lasts more than one minute - he seldom finds words and connections between them for longer - and doesn't include

Five pula mea
Three Gura masii

Translating that...his vocabulary is limited to expletives and a few other words that help him get food and create the image of the tough man.

Maybe I should feel sorry for him, instead of mocking him here.



Sauna EQ


We have talked about EQ today, in the sauna of all places.
It was somewhat irritating at one point, although the very idea of having such a pretentious talking point at 89 degrees Celsius is flattering.

One of the men argued that a very disliked character has a tremendous EQ.
To me, he seems to be the opposite of emotionally intelligent.

This is a rich, uneducated, flaunting, arrogant red neck, with a bizarre religion, owner of a football club, infamous for rather atrocious behavior...

She some thieves have stolen his car...I think it was that, he had his bodyguards play the roles of vigilantes.
When his Bentley had a problem, I think it was a minor accident with some door twisted, he took a crow bar or a bat and started kicking to fix the thing.

The scoundrel used to be, maybe he still is, weekly in the news...the tabloid kind.

His statements are ridiculous, show a lack of understanding of the world, his language and he seems to be a small Trump.

To be fair, the argument in the sauna was not that he has a high IQ.
Indeed, the interlocutor used the fact that this man is not intelligent in the traditional sense of the words as an argument in favor of his theory...

This shepherd became rich because he has intuition and knows how to make deals...

The Local Art of the Deal.

Only just like the idiot from the States, it is a question of false image and pretenses.
The leader of the US has actually been bankrupt a few times, made profits when he did, based on not paying those who worked for his buildings, cheating fools or naive people into coming into his pompous, useless university and buying other shoddy products or services from him.

In the local version, the rich simpleton has just sold land in crooked deals, making the army and other state bodies pay or swap property that he would later or immediately sell for much more...

Talk of high EQ...




Oil at or over 100?


Now that someone has attacked installations in Saudi Arabia, we may see the oil price jump over one hundred dollars.

If 'the very stable genius' in the White House decides to use the brain which actually functions with frequent, outrageous breakdowns and launches an attack on Iran, we may see the price go over two hundred.

Let's hope it would not go that far.
But Calamity Trump is always very close to disaster...

A category five hurricane hitting Alabama in his mad imagination could become a real catastrophe of the idiot is allowed to act without some restraint.



Serenity


Serenity Now! Is the shout that has become one of the most appreciated Seinfeld moments.
Constanza Senior aka Stiller senior, the father of Ben Stiller, shouts at Elaine, just as they are about to fight...

Serenity Now!

This is the feeling of the moment.
There is an ambulance in the background.

But there is also the chirping of a bird...a more unusually one.
We have magpies, pigeons, sparrows, but this is different and so lovely...sweet.

A corny atmosphere in other words.
Up to point where Puccini starts singing at it is not so cozy anymore.

But he is fun.
The other noises that end this sense of bliss and serenity are less elating.

They start the engines of the cars and vans at this offensive operation they have next door.
Guys who only pay for two people at the 'intretinere' , the upkeep, but have a business next door, with some chemicals they distribute.

Indeed, two houses down the street we have the infamous HUxi company.
Not its real name, on the off chance that they hear of this and then come with guns blazing.

Those people have been responsible for deaths.
They gave hospitals doctored cleaning solutions which evidently affected the elimination of viruses and bacteria.

Anyway, this was about serenity.
It is true that it is a delicate balance...

'A delicate, exotic fruit...touch it and the bloom is gone' Oscar Wilde on a different subject...that of ignorance.

There are minutes, moments when one can enjoy a silence, almost.

Then the dogs bark...fuck their owners.
We hear the cars on the national road 1A, but they are in the distance Alhamdulillah!

This being so close to the limit of the town, it has this advantage.
Were we to stay at St. Vineri, it would be a whole different ball game.

It was noisy when we stayed there.
But for now, it is so quiet.

Well, it is for the next couple of minutes or so...wait, there's a plane on its way to Baneasa.
But it is still so magical and a state of things to be grateful.

State of Grace and it will be like this for a long time

Insh'Allah!



Tusnad, maybe Predeal or Caciulata


I seem to wonder off lately,  thinking it is perhaps time for some traveling...

For the past twenty years or so, I only went out of town on two occasions.
Once invited by Madi, my sister, to spend a couple of days in Brasov.

The other time, Gale Cramer and her husband paid for a one day trip to Bran.
Come to think of it, on another day we drove to Snagov and then for that day in the Adventures Park.

But that is still rather pathetic...four or five days over two decades.
Granted, the time before that accumulates too much moving around...I was in the tours business.

In 2,000 if felt like staying put would be the best option.
A much less intelligent version of Immanuel Kant, who I understand never left town and villagers could check their watches over his regular schedule.

One way to move forward would be to try it for one day first.

Predeal by train, leaving early in the morning, on a Wednesday for instance.

Leaving at ten from the railway station, I could get to Trei Brazi, then the chalet which is next to it, Poiana Something...secuilor maybe.

That's a grand total of eleven kilometers or so and could be done in just three hours.
Then back to the station and off to the boys, back home.

Another time, or an alternative to this would be Sinaia, with a trip to 1,400.
Upon returning, a stop could be made at Peles.