Alegeri 2009

Singura sectie de votare din Viena este la Institutul Cultural Roman. Ajungem acolo pe la pranz. Coada mare pana la iesirea din cladire. Ne asezam in liniste.

Imediat apare o doamna foarte (dar foarte) agitata. Nu poate sta, trebuie sa ajunga undeva. Este si foarte informata:

"Asta nu e nimic! Sa vedeti ce e in tara: sute de oameni. Asta e semn clar ca oamenii vor schimbarea."

Doamna ridica din ce in ce mai mult tonul. Se baga in fata si incearca sa se certe cu agentul de ordine. Incepe sa urle si sa injure. Multe cuvinte cu "p". E cu noi si un prieten american, ma bucur ca nu intelege exact toate cuvintele. Se sesizeaza un domn cu palarie, incearca sa o tempereze, nu reuseste. Incepe cearta. Problema e ca noi suntem exact intre cei doi. Domnul e identificat cu "sistemul", iar doamna e "rebela".

"Nu ne mai puteti pune pumnul in gura, GATA, spun ce vreau eu, de asta a fost revolutie."

Circul continua. Pana la urma doamna face asa un scandal, incat un membru al comisiei o lasa sa intre in fata.

La iesire, un tanar ii spune:

"Sa va fie rusine!".

Raspuns firesc:

"De ce?"

Completam doua formulare, dupa ce gasim cu greu un pix. Din nou la coada. Atmosfera e din ce in ce mai incinsa. O alta doamna din spate ma intreaba fara nici o introducere:

"Ati auzit de Antonescu?"

"Ce anume?"

"Pai toata Romania stie, nu va uitati la televizor, nu? Si-a abandonat sotia in spital {... va inchipuiti continuarea, prefer sa nu o redau in detaliu}. Pai... cum poate el sa aiba grija de o tara, daca nu a avut grija de sotia lui?"

"De unde stiti?"

"Cum de unde stiu? A spus-o domnul Basescu la Cluj."

Au trecut mai mult de 2 ore. Urmeaza sa intru in sala. O doamna foarte in varsta ii roaga pe membrii comisiei sa fie lasata in cabina cu prietena ei, pentru ca nu vede. Un distins membru al comisiei cu ceafa groasa si lant de aur la gat, se rasteste la ea:

"Nu se poate, doamna, nu se poate. Pai ce e asta?"

"Domnule, eu nu vad"

"Daca nu vedeti, nu votati.'

"Atunci ma duc acasa, nu mai votez."

Eu totusi am votat. Dar nu mi s-a pus nici o stampila sau un autocolant pe pasaport.

Retoric sau nu, ma intreb... de ce sa mai merg la vot peste doua saptamani?

Take Me Away

Natasha Bedingfield - Pocketful of sunshine
Asculta mai multe audio Muzica

28

A few years ago I was teaching philosophy in one of the high schools of Bucharest. I remember it well: it was a lesson on happiness. I was telling them about hedonism, about utilitarianism and then about the closing phrase of one book by Camus: "We have to imagine Sisyphus happy." And suddenly, one of the boys in the class interrupted me unexpectedly, looked into my eyes and asked: "When was the last time you were happy?" Thinking of that question now, random things come to mind, flashes of light and dark…

I like burned toasted bread. I hate fighting. I have tickles. I am afraid of frogs. Nina Ricci's perfume Premier Jour makes me joyful. I was four years old when I asked my grandmother what is the difference between the United States and the United Nations. I cannot swim, skate, ski or sing. I love horses and I would like to learn once how to ride one. I want to visit the underground galleries of Napoli and the palace of Alhambra. In 2003 I made a trip from France to Italy, changing 12 trains in 26 hours. I am always cold. I was never more proud than at my brother's first performance on stage. I tend to see things in black and white, to want all or nothing, and I lost many good chances in life because of this. I think what is hidden is more interesting than what is obvious. I lived in 5 different countries. I joined the Democratic Party in my hometown when I was 14. In my childhood, I used to cry when the bad character in the fairytales was punished or killed. I never drank a beer. I would have loved to be 3 centimeters taller. I like to fight with words. I can tell when a soccer player is in offside. When I left Trieste and 20 people were crying at the train station after me, I felt loved. Dark chocolate is my absolute favorite. I started a diary when I was 12 and I stopped writing in it when I was 24, in my second semester in Budapest. I have a sign on my forehead because my brother broke a mug into my head. I don't judge people based on their relatives. I always wanted to be the first in school, until I realized this does not make me happier. Last weekend, I visited Salzburg and it was one of the most beautiful places I have seen in a long while.

I like to dance and to spoil the people I love.

Sonnet 142

Love is My Sin

Sonnet 142

by William Shakespeare

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,

Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving,

O, but with mine, compare thou thine own state,

And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,

Or if it do, not from those lips of thine

That have profaned their scarlet ornaments

And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine,

Robbed others' beds' revenues of their rents.

Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov'st those

Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee.

Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows

Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.

If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,

By self-example mayst thou be denied!

How Proust Can Change Your Life

"It might be a Proustian slogan: "N' allez pas trop vite!"

And an advantage of not going by too fast, is that the world has a better chance of becoming more interesting in the process."

On "Romantic Pessimism", "In Search of Lost Time" and many others.

Fanfare Concert at Hofburg

Lucuri Simple

Trenul ne-a adus in mare viteza (asa cum ii spune si numele) de la Paris si s-a oprit in micul orasel breton odata cu noaptea. Abia asteptam. Am intrat cu totii in casa pe varfuri sa nu o trezim pe cea mica. Doar ca, foarte curand, am auzit pasi grabiti grabiti pe scari si o fetitza dragalasa s-a ivit de dupa balustrada.

"Ce qui?"

Si deodata... o revarsare de bucurie fara seaman. Numele surorii mai mari se auzea de peste tot. Imbratisari, rasete, sarutari, euforie. Nu se mai vazusera de o luna. "On va danser! On va danser!" O bucurie fara margini, ochi ce sclipeau de incantare, maini ce se jucau fara oprire. Sarituri, tipete, piruete, mangaieri. Priviri ce se nu se mai deslipeau.

A fost cel mai frumos moment al vacantei ce a trecut. Mi-a adus aminte de cat de adevarate si de simple sunt bucuriile copilariei. Si de cat de mare nevoie avem de ele.

Les Valses De Vienne

Room with a View

¨The view from a balcony or a terrace that overlooks a port... That I can't change with anything in this world.¨

Not long ago, I was thinking of these words, as the morning sun was slowly revealing a petit port breton. À marée basse. Low tide. The quick and interesting change of the sea level brought to the landscape a unique dynamic. After all, we were not far from the famous Mont Saint-Michel, where Victor Hugo described the tides changing as "as swiftly as a galloping horse".

Our home was an aristocratic residence built at the end of the nineteenth century and surrounded by a walled garden. The room overlooked the small port of Portsall with views of the ocean beyond. Small secluded beaches were waiting for us...on the "Coast of Legends" by the Sea of Iroise.

Vacation aftermath: I want to go back.

Piano and Rain

Mölkerbastei is an unexpected hillock in the vicinity of Vienna's famous university in the 1st district. It is the kind of place that you can miss if you stick too closely to your map or that you discover accidentely while your wander freely, searching for the famous landmarks of the Inner City. And like many other little known places in this city, Mölkerbastei is the nicest surprise. Here you find the Dreimäderlhaus that inspired Franz Schubert to write the operetta with the same name, translated as House of the Three Girls and adapted as Blossom Time or Lilac Time. And a little further up the hill, at Mölkerbastei 8, the apartment where Ludwig van Beethoven composed his Fidelio.

At the Mölkerbastei, I witnessed last Saturday this simple nice scene. A piano exercise in the rain.