Friday, August 05, 2005

Just a very quick entry today.

I found out this morning why I was all over the place in my writing yesterday. Apparently I have finally caught Egor’s flu and my temperature is something like 39 degrees. I really do not know how this translates to Fahrenheit but Tanya tells me this is something like a bit more than 102. I have been down all day today taking medicines and such but it does not seem to be breaking the flu so far. And this is a problem because I have a lot of things to do which no one but me can do here.
Anyway, this is the news.
Never trust a junky…

That line just came out of the movie ‘Ray’, which I am listening to at this moment. Dialogue in Russian of course. But still, you can hear the music OK, which is just all right. Jaimie Fox, right? So two things come to mind when I think about that phrase. Well three really. One: It is too fucking true. Two: Drunks are in there too. And Three: Zaremba was hooked. Sure as I am sitting here. And I had him pegged too, right there in Wiesniakowski’s office. He was giving that interview, the one where he brought up that ‘black mark’. And I threw his red eyes and attitude at that prosecutor. “Look at him; he’s high as a kite.” “What are you speaking about?” “In the states, when a guy had red, staring eyes, starts playing games with people and is so hungry for money he doesn’t care who he screws over, this means that he has a habit. Throw in that fucking cell phone he won’t take his hands off of and I am speaking about a guy who is hooked on something that costs a lot of money.” “In Poland, all that just mean that he is tired. Like we all are…”

That last retort was from a cop whose name I do not at the present time remember. I probably will. Though it is really not all that important. The weight of the remark stands all by itself without the necessity of any star power behind the words. God this movie is so real. So good.

So getting back to this story about cutting up my tree. I guess that the most important thing to me going into this day was that I just wanted to get the big mess put away. I wanted my fence back up, I wanted the road clear. Maybe I just had some ownership issues. Or maybe I just wanted the loss of the pear behind me. Or maybe it was just that I knew how hard it is to get things done around my village and to stop for even a minute would be to invite a lot of wagging tongues, a lot of gossip and bullshit which as you may or may not have come to understand is something I hate. No, I am not an actor, a performer, a spotlight hound… Well, I mean it would have been nice to have been able to shine a little bit more of that attention on that old Polish deal; people should know and all of that. But no, in general, this is not me. I am as boring as I can get it to be. I like it that way. I really do. In fact, all I really loke is what I am doing right now. Being at home. being with the family. That and getting the words right. Getting the news out. Or at least trying. And all I had to do to get this thing going was to wait patiently for everyone else around here to go to sleep and leave me alone with these three fingers I like to use. This is Ok for me. This is real.

So when I saw all of my neighbors actually bringing extra benches along so they could watch ‘the show’, this spectacle of a too drunk, washed out local son of the village and the… Oh Jesus, I have got to describe how I am seen there these days. Damn. Wanna see me dance? Pull a rabbit out of my hat? You mean I hav to entertain them? You mean this i funny? Comedy?

You Want a show? Here's a show:

‘Twas Joyce then Millar and then Bruce who said
If we can’t have our freedom we’d be better off dead
So against the courts did all with pluck
Argue their case for a word called fuck
And though all their judges ruled them shit out of luck
Not a’ one of them chose ‘fudge’ instead.

See, I told you I was a writer...

And they were all just sitting there laughing at us. Well, really it was me wasn’t it that they were laughing at. What did they want from me? And poor Misha, he had to join in didn’t he. And you know they play кто виновать (kto vinovate) 'who’s guilty?' here? G-d it was embarrassing. But they were all there: Nina and Stepan, Vitally and his wife. Lena and several of the other Babas. And of course, OF COURSE, Yasha and Masha…

And yes, there was that business with Yasha last year. What happened there? I guess it is all about help. No, that’s bullshit, it has nothing to do with help. And I do not really think it has anything to do with living together well. Unless of course you add in the mutual pain felt by all of my neighbors over the course of their lives lived under Stalin, Khrushchev, Brezhnev… And in the end Lukashenka. Yes, absolutely Lukashenka. And I am an American. You have to know what that means here. There is a thousand mile border and a curtain made of iron here. And there was no matter how much I would open my doors, my mind; and if there would have been a wallet, I would have had that open as well. Probably. But in the end there was none of that really. There was none of that bonding because you can’t. I mean, you can work together, and in that moment when you are being purposeful together, there is something there. Especially when your partner is doing a good job.

But that man didn’t come through when I needed him. No he did not. And not only did he not come through, he hung me out to dry. And fuck all the lesson I might have learned, or that he might have wanted to think I needed to learn about self sufficiency and all, to get hung out to dry by a guy who wanted nothing more than to get a piece out of you, well, you might just have to imagine how this feels.

But then again, I jut didn’t have a penny, and this was probably his biggest disappointment with me. I mean, being an American and all, I really should have been a better touch, now shouldn’t I? And while he was shucking and jiving and Uncle Tomming his ass around giving me that old soft shoe: Come to Yasha, come to Yasha, wasn’t that all really waiting for his big payday? I mean, I did see that didn’t I? Yes I did. But what could I dop? The guy just wouldn’t understand that that I was broke and that I was screwed and there was simply no ,opney. Do you hear me? THERE WAS NO MONEY. NONE. NOT A FUCKING CENT AND I WAS LIVING OFF WHAT I COULD PULL FROM THE DIRT. And he would say: So have we. But that wasn’t true. His economics, even if there are pathetic by US standards. My standards, our standards; at least allowed for something. Something. And I didn’t need the argument because I was working my ass off trying to make something.

Waite. I fucked up here didn’t I? I was supposed to tell a simple story about what kind of comedy I went through to get my pair tree which fell down in a storm cleaned up. I was expected to show up and do a simple job but I didn’t, I did something else and that was probably disappointing for you. Or frustrating, especially if you had enjoyed any of the last few offerings, which I have been told people have. Well, now you know how I felt. Maybe. Or maybe you already know about this stuff. But you must excuse me. Sometimes I get a bit high myself. Sometimes, I get to feeling like I have some talent and all and I just sort of let it get to my head. I am prone to this. I guess you could say it is an addiction, a problem. Sorry about that. Shit, I didn’t even fill my quota did I? But listen: Trust me. Do you understand what I am saying? Trust me! I will be there. I will get this job done. Next time. Next time for sure…

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More soon…

Oh, and Vasilli Ananovich had a paperwork day today and so was unavailable for a meeting. I will need to go and do that tomorrow morning.