Still locks

Taken with my new camera, an Olympus E-410, and posted for Wordless Wednesday on Friday because I missed Wednesday.

Memoir of a reading arranged by a cowbird

Mr. Cowbird was the hyperactive kahuna of the culture scene in Badenweiler, a small spa in the Black Forest which used to be a nobility hangout in the 19th century. Its claims to glory and fame reside more in the past – it is the site of baths from Roman times, the ruins of which are still around, and the place where Anton Chekhov died in 1904.

Russian poet Vyacheslav Kupriyanov – probably better known in Germany than in his native country or anywhere else – had come to give a reading, which I attended to finally meet him in person. His and mine publisher had told me a lot about him.

The reading drew an immense crowd of about 18. Mr. Cowbird presented the poet with a lot of not so succinct words, making reference to this and that – including Kupriyanov’s more famous compatriot and old ties to Russia – and eventually allowed him to read.

Kupriyanov’s poems, particularly the funny ones and the ones he read in Russian, were received with lots of applause – much better than the prose. I seem to recall that he read an excerpt from his novel “The Wet Manuscript,” which left the audience in a state between puzzled and dazed.

Afterwards, Mr. Cowbird and his secretary led a small flock of die-hards to a Weinstube to celebrate the event with some of the excellent local wine and plenty of self-congratulation by Mr. Cowbird.

What do you do when exposed to the incessant onslaught of such an overwhelming ego? I mostly just sat there and blinked my eyes, as did everyone else.

I ordered red wine. Before the waitress could give it to me when she arrived with her tray, Mr. Cowbird, who had been impatiently awaiting the white wine he had ordered, grabbed the glass off the tray, took a good gulp and went on rambling.

Once, when he had asked Kupriyanov a question and actually let him answer it, Mr. Cowbird looked at his wine glass and said, “Did I order that? That’s pretty bad. I didn’t order that.”

“No, you didn’t. That was mine,” I said.

– L. Blumfeld (© 2008)

Written for Totally Optional Prompts.

The unlucky 26

Discovered today,
the first of May:

Rhymed ballads
of personal doom

filled with hilarious
detail of gloom.

Go visit PJD's The Unlucky Twenty-Six.

In the middle of nowhere

Dumped along the highway
somewhere in Texas,
thumb ignored

– Leonard Blumfeld

For 3WW LXXXIV. Also inspired a little bit by remembering the movie Out of Rosenheim (aka Bagdad Cafe).

In the green zone

This is a green sticker for a German low emission zone. Such zones were decreed this March in several cities of Germany. Cars that do not have a sticker are not allowed in low emission zones, i.e. if you're caught without you get fined. There are green (da cleanest), yellow (not so good) and red (barely passable, mostly diesel engines) stickers. The sense or nonsense of this government measure is subject to heated discussion. Owners of older cars – who tend to be the less affluent – are pissed because they are forced to either invest in a particle filter (which is not even available for some makes) or to get another car. While their old polluter will continue polluting somewhere else where there are no low emission zones – most likely in an East European country. While the main polluter still remains the industry, etc., etc.

Another and the final contribution to Anna Carson's Project Green, which comes to an end with take nine.

Oh such flowering

Oh such flowering in April and May!
I wish I could enjoy birch, nettle and bay.

Alas: grasses, bushes and trees, even bamboo
give me but watery eyes and endless achoo...

– Leonard Blumfeld (c) allergy season 2008

Written specifically for flowering at One Single Impression.

Downtown with a greenish tinge

Downtown Stuttgart photographed through the glass front of the new art museum café. The glass is slightly tinted, hence the greenish flavor.

Posted for Anna Carson's Project Green Take Eight.

The economical future of the planet

This apocalyptic painting by German artist Norbert Stockhus might depict the future of the planet if the current neoliberal economical trend is allowed to go on. The rich have erected a fortress in which they defend the wealth they have amassed against the poor left in the arid wasteland outside.

A response to Sunday Scribblings #108 - the future of the planet.

Weekly horoscope

There is a powerfully creative energy at work in your life that is encouraging your natural genius to flow.

Wow! Let it flow.

You are learning that you are capable of far more than you thought possible. Be practical, but dare to challenge yourself as well. Keep moving out of your comfort zone and all will be well.

Good to know that all will be well. But I don't like to leave my comfy zone. Is there anyone who really does?

Monday is excellent for taking risks and showing off your natural talents. Tuesday is not so great, as there are confusing elements in the air that may cause you to make a wrong turn. Take care when signing any new deals or important documents.

Ok, I'll be careful with those deals and documents. None planned anyway.

Venus moves into Taurus on Wednesday which adds a special note of sweetness to your social life. Going on a date should be a lot more romantic and tender at this time.

Let Ms. Venus come!

Thursday in particular could be very passionate with a touch of obsession in the air. Someone may want to get to know you more than you can imagine.

Can't imagine right now, but will be open to imagination.

Saturn turns direct on Friday, which will help you make better progress with all travel affairs, especially any major trips you may be contemplating.

I am contemplating a few indeed. India, U.S., Calabria and a few others.

You will also find that legal issues begin to resolve themselves at last.

There is one that has been weighing on me.

Saturday is not the best day for talking someone around to your point of view, wait a day or two before you do this.

Ok, I'll wait. Even though I usually don't even want to talk people into my point of view.

What a fantastic weekly horoscope. Mr. computer did a good job. Now let's see what happens.

The breathy fib

Each
breath
is in
the mike, and
this exposure to
breathing apparatus goes for
sexy. More voice, please,
and less child-
ish brea-
thi-
ness.

– Leonard “Music Eclect” Blumfeld

Invitable note
Just listened to one of these breathy singers* again while visiting a blog and had to vent my feelings poetically.
* I won’t say who it was in order not to offend anybody’s taste, but there are far too many around anyway. For my taste.