How long has it been since I’ve sat in a restaurant and watched a woman hold a cigarette and a glass of wine in the same hand while she thoroughly makes her point of view known to the person sitting across from her?
I wonder why the Czechs hate vowels so much? Conversely, I wonder why we love them so. I’m re-reading Jitterbug Perfume at the moment and I feel that Tom Robbins would have an answer. Something deeply-rooted – now forgotten – in history. Somethings about the Anglos and the Slovaks. The Germans may have the answer. They use too many of both and make up words all the time.
They say that the pick-pockets of Prague are some of the best in the world. I’m sure the French would have something to say about that. When we do get around to going to the old quarter (now a cesspool of tourists milling about shoulder-to-shoulder) I’ll keep most of my money in my shoe. But I’ll also leave a few korunas in my pocket – and if it does happen I hope it is done with such precision that I don’t feel a thing.
It’s a rainy afternoon, and while my partner grabs a quick nap I decide to check out the Czech news to see what causes buzz over here. A corrupt politician has just been sent to jail for 8 years, there is a fear of too many illegal immigrants (Syrian refugees) getting into the country, Chinese tourism is up 119% over last year, the most recent unemployment numbers hold steady, and a car accident kills two people…it truly is amazing how much of the world lives by the same news clocks…
Related: In an alternate universe I am like the TV character Dexter, but instead of being a serial killer who kills serial killers, I would hunt down idiot trophy hunters – like that asshole dentist in Minnesota who killed the Zimbabwe lion – these people who seem to have no qualms killing increasingly rare wild animals. I’d track him, like he tracked Cecil – maybe take him out while he is cutting his grass, or as he came home in the evening. Then I’d take a stupid picture of myself with him dead on the ground – I’d pull his face up by the hair on his head and I’d grin into the camera…just the way he did.
A hundred thousand people in the Old Town Square with a 100,000 digital cameras taking hundreds of thousands of pictures. A million selfies a day – me, here I am, look at me – the younger generation turning on their “selfie” face, turning it off just as fast. If I hadn’t been watching, I wouldn’t have noticed. Me in front of the astrological clock, me with a busker, me in front of a 400-year-old building, me on the Charles Bridge – me, look at me, here I am!