Sunday Music

Go by train they say. It’s green, and child-oriented, and whatnot. Yeah.
I’m back in Franconia, and my today travel started well inasmuch the train was on time. It went downhill from there. The gods of railway had sent a very very small train, so we stood like sardines in a can. And because I was the last to board through this door, and because it is an “express”, I was thrown against this door again and again. I can assure you now that the trains used here in Germany have very reliable doors – you do not fall out at 120 kph.
After this white-knuckle-experience I boarded another express, fairly unpopulated, until a gaggle of Suebiennes boarded. I have no idea how to translate the nice German word “Revolverschnauze”, but I know that it was fitting from the very first second. The subjects covered went from pro & con home office, work in the actual offices, to , well, martial bliss. They carried see-through balloons in pink with pink confetti in it, so they went to a kind of pre childbirth party or something. The evacuated after 45 minutes.
Someone sat behind me. And the next thing I hear is a male voice asking “What do have in your hands ? May I look into this bag ?” and a peeping “Yes” answered. “It is just for a friend, who called me on the phone …” “And asked you to roll me a joint on the train?” “mhh …” It is very unusual to see a police patrol on this train, so they may have followed her from her dealer. But nevertheless the friendly idiot was rolling a joint when the police showed up. It was all nice & friendly, but nevertheless very sad. When all the admin was done they left, and I was on my way through absolutely boring and soothing Hohenlohe when a voice came through the intercom.
“Due to circumstances our train will end today in Lauda, sorry for the inconvenience.” Fuck you clown, that’s 45 minutes from home. So I stood (again) on the platform in nowhere land, waiting for the Bimmelbahn. And here came the cherry on top, in the form of a bald headed, gold chain wearing idiot, who clearly was bonk. The guy shoved a piece of paper full of numbers in my face the minute I had sat down, took it away, mumbled something about “Help !”, and “Frankfort”, and this was just the start of the show. This slow train stops at literally any heap of dung along the line, so what the “Express” does in thirty minutes takes now around 50 minutes. Mr Baldy moaned and groaned, mumbled, huffed, and ran around – I am sure most of the passengers would have happily shoved his damn smartphone up where it is dark, just to tranquillise the guy. Of course, masks are for the weak, not for this specimen of manly force. I looked at him at several occasions, right into his eyes, he was clearly mad. Not violent, not obviously drunk or under the influence, but clearly “besides”.
Anyway. Even the most idiotic train ride comes to an end. The yelling kids and loud talking adults on the bus home were easy-peasy compared to Mr Bonk.
Enough of the whinery. Today’s Sunday Music is an old staple, Smoke on the Water, here in the absolutely lovable Azerbaijani version of Bizimkiler. Sadly I could find no more information about this orchestra. I hope you like the music. May you be spared from bonk bald heads in the coming week.

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2 thoughts on “Sunday Music

  1. Wow! What an adventure you had! “Pre-childbirth party” hahaha also called a “baby shower” but since it does not actually rain babies at these parties (thank God!) your term is more accurate. In the perfect example of how I can be both a traditionalist and non-traditionalist person at the same time I did have a baby shower, but there were men in attendance including the father-to-be. I would say this made it much more fun for all of us. Whenever I’ve had to go to another woman’s baby shower or bachelorette party I feel really out of place. I don’t understand any of the games or inside jokes. I think my life manual on “How to be a woman” got wet and so large chucks of pages got stuck together so I cannot read these portions. At any rate, I am glad you are back home and not stranded between here and there.

  2. That’s pretty much how I feel, stranded between here and there.
    I wear a brand new (and rather expensive) pair of glasses, my eyes seemingly recovered (next month will be a hopefully last examination), I am out of sick leave, and ready to work. I phoned with a colleague, who told me that it goes all topsy-turvy at the job, they basically changed everything, and are filling “holes” (that is, colleagues drop like flies with corona).
    So I expected to be driving again asap, but they said that I should come next week to fill in for a colleague, who has one of the smallest & shortest runs possible. I shall do this for a week. Obviously they plan only for a week ahead. I want my old bus route back, after all I get paid by hours and kilometers.
    I left Suebia because I thought that I’d be back on the road right now, but I sit here idle. I will write applications, and do some paper stuff.
    I think that it changed a lot what it means to be a woman, expectations, ideals – there seems (at least to me) a step back has happened. I see women who happily embrace old ideas of housewife existance, and being girlygirly (yes, I may be over inflating this), but generally the streak for independence, the idea that there are structures, lives & existances outside the male-dominated “as is”, are possible, may have shrunk a bit.
    But maybe I just do not look into the right direction. Sorry, I am tired right now Melanie … I think I’ll write about “dreaming” next, something changed with me in this respect, and I do not know yet if I like it.

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