Late again, sorry. Over the weekend I fell in a vegetative state of consciousness, or un-consciousness if you prefer. I felt no inclination to communicate, to read or talk, not even music. I slept a lot, lay around and sometimes looked out of the window enjoying the lightning, the thunder, and most of all, the rush of strong rain that blanked out all other unnatural sounds. For a few moments there was even silence – silence !
Perhaps it was an uncontrolled, sub-conscious preparing for that what was to come, the start of work again. Monday morning I got up, put the working gear on and there I was again. But I was not steeled enough for the raw onslaught of sheer dumbness I encountered when my convalesced co-driver entered the cabin, sparkling from racist bigotry, half “understood” news & bloated egoism, and started the malice litany of her mishaps (of course all caused by other, jealous people), things that are wrong (basically everything), and disgusting details of her illness (baaarf !).
After some time I simply switched my brain off and decided that the jabber is just background noise, nothing else.
Read a book in those days without work ? ” – ? [gawping]” Heard some interesting music ? “Volxmusik.” – Of the humpta genre, no doubt. Did something interesting ? “Nöö, kein’ Bock …” In the end she yelled at the neighbourhood kids, pestered family members & took offense. This person is brain-dead.
And (of course ?) “interested” in soccer. And not in the game as a game, but only when “we” do play. “‘We’ ?” “Doitschland !” Not homo ludens (Ger., Eng.) but pure nationalism.
So she brought a package of tinnef (best translated as rubbish trash) containing a plastic flag of Doitschland, to clip into the car window, and two guirlandes, perhaps to strangle someone with. I stood in awe when she clipped that crap into the upper edge of her window, which in turn can not be opened anymore, because the holy flag would then fall off. This is pure humiliation. It’s the epitome of Proll, I am not sure how to translate this. Accidentally the shit fell off when I had to evade being rammed by a bus and hence had to swerve into the greenery, a compassionate branch … Let’s see how much she’s ready to spent on this.
Enough of the driver’s burden.
Last evening I was looking for a Sunday Music and stumbled upon takes of a blues singer called “Jazz” GILLUM (Ger., Eng.). Nothing special, at first hear. Mr GILLUM plays harmonica and is accompanied, among others, by Lee Conley BRADLEY (know as Big Bill Broonzy (Ger., Eng.) ; he needs no victrola, March 14th 1938).
AND a very young man on the electric guitar, called BARNES : Yes – the George BARNES (Ger., Eng.), sixteen years old ; still in the cage of the traditional blues form, but ready to jump. Together they make a little bit of history.
Hope you enjoy the music played 78 years ago. And may your co-driver be a reasonable, person, or – at least – stumm.
63 mago 
Oh, I am first, which is weird because I am generally in a vegetive state of unconsciousness.
I am always twitchy when I see flags where they really have no place to be – they are warning bells.
I think Proll translated okay.
Sx
if this week isn’t an improvement, drink…more.
Oh darling Scarlet !
I’m a bit allergic to flags, especially German ones. Especially since over the last years some undesirable elements of the political spectrum grabbed the official signs of this state.
I grew up, went to school & was educated in Western Germany, in a family that had the pleasure to take part in the German history of the 20th century first hand, not as actors or directors, but as extras / Statisten, supernumeraries. None of them, especially the surviving male members of my family who had the pleasure to “see something of the world”, mostly through the barrel of an 8.8, courtesy of the German army, would nail a damn flag on his car, his house or his trousers. I feel the urge to follow and honour this tradition.
I have no idea what “proll” nowadays actually is, what qualifies one as un-cultural “Prolet”. It once was shaven head, gold chain, and these ugly trousers normal people only wear in the gymnasium or on the sports field, when actually doing sports (!). But the world keeps on turning and all this may nowadays be mainstream, at least when I look into the Daily Malice.
(BTW, and I know this by pure accident, not that I’d have counted … but at the last five posts, this latest included, you were four times first.)
There are limits Norma. In all respects. I only wait for when she starts on Israel. Then the hammer falls.
Ahhh, the sound of silence. It allows the mind to refresh itself, in my opinion.
God! How ghastly to have such a person inflicted on you.Bigotry can sometimes be walked away from, but to be stuck in a car-! But I like the karmic tree’s avenging branches.:-)
And I also like the music.Danke.
Silence is great, rare, and … sometimes daunting. I am already glad with the “run-of-the-mill”-silence, with only “natural” sounds, or better : the lack of man-made ones. But there is always someone in reach & ready to use his percussion drill … oh Franconia, land of Do-it-yerself …
No escape here Dinahmow. I need the job – regular income is something great, moneywise I even see the silver lining at the horizon in the far distance.
To be fair, she’s not all bad. But then come things spoken out that leave me speechless. When I really have to blink and ask meself whether this is real. On the other hand it is a great trial, and I am sure I can learn a lot. How works this brain ? What are triggers ? Where’s the “limit”, the point when things turn into something else ? Can I trust my perception ? The next few weeks will be interesting.
Whatever happened to those door mirror socks sporting the nationalist colours?
YES !
Everybody who used them was strangled with a guirlande. Or they finally fell off and now all live quietly and happy on the Autobahnmittelstreifen. Be careful biker Nikos, once in a full moon they will coagulate, form a bouncing ball-like object & start crawling !
“Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel.” The Patriot, Samuel Johnson, 1774.
I hope your cold and tiredness are improving. My current state is very similar, much tiredness and lots of falling asleep on the sofa during the day as the cold subsides.
It does suck having an ignorant idiot as a driving companion! I prefer solo driving on long trips. Maybe you can get an earpiece & pretend that you’re listen to an audiobook for a book club! That way, you can ignore her. I once pretended to be listening to an audio text book for class when I found myself with an idiotic passenger sitting next to me.
Get well soon! I wish you much good health & renewed strength & serenity.
Mago, we thank you for being the caring saint that you are. Sorry that you have to bear the cross of such a co-driver. Would earphones help? Listen to jazz instead of her drivel.
Gute Besserung 12.7 LẌ !
Now & then I silence her with the Black Crowes Eroswings …
I was called a lot through my tenthousand days on earth, but not yet a “caring saint” LGS !
I doubt your co-driver is as bad as my 92 year old great aunt Alice, she puts Alf Garnett to shame and yet she has a fondness for Winifred Atwell you can’t make it up.
I had to look for Mr Garnett dearest Mitzi – but yes, I know him !