ICY WATER-COLORED RULE-BOUND CLOWNS
I hope that you are happy, healthy and warm. Here, frigid temperatures have arrived. It was 3℉ (-16℃) this morning. The Americans find it easy to assign blame for this kind of a development:
“... a blast of Cold Canadian Air,” the forecaster on KING News in Seattle explained.
This comment was replayed on the CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation). The CBC weather reporter added: “And, as usual, the Americans are blaming us.”
“I wonder who they’ll blame for the weather that we’re experiencing?” I asked Nazy.
“Excuse me?”
“They can’t blame this,” I said - pointing to a ice-encrusted tree - “on Canadian air.”
“Let’s just listen to the weather report, Dan.”
“... caused by a blast of Arctic Air from Siberia...”
“Ah ha!” I exclaimed. “The Russians. Putin needs to sell natural gas, so he got Siberia..”
Until now the winter, for the most part, has been rather mild. but...
Flashback January 2012
Darius and I had just arrived at the tram stop. It was windy, cold and snowing. Amazingly, our tram was en route. I grabbed a handful of change and shouted instructions to Darius:
“Hold the tram!”
Holding the tram is simple: Darius just had to stand on the bottom step. I began shoveling coins into the frustratingly slow ticket machine. I was disgruntled when the machine rejected (twice) a 20 Rappen coin. Seething when the tram departed, I turned to Darius.
“Well, Dar?”
“The tram driver saw you getting tickets. I thought he would wait.”
“You thought that a Swiss tram driver would wait?”
“He saw you, Dad. He saw you standing in the sleet buying tickets.”
“Precisely. That’s why you had to hold the tram.” I said. “You are so naïve,” I thought.
Returning home, we dashed to the tram stop. Tram 15 was en route. I entered coin-insertion mode and shouted instructions.
“This time: Hold. The. Tram.”
Like a statue, Darius rooted himself to the..
Reader interrupt: ‘Like a statue” does not go with “rooted himself”.
Like a sequoia, Darius rooted himself to the bottom step while I waited for the clattering printer to disgorge our tickets. Tickets in hand, I dashed to the tram. There was a single rider on board: an elderly Swiss woman who glared at..
“.. you, Darius.” I explained. “You held the tram.”
“That’s what you said to..”
The passenger, (Ms. “Rule-stickler”) pointedly looked at her watch.
I chuckled. “Don’t worry, Dar. She has a pair of binoculars at home to alert the police when a car doesn’t leave the parking place on time.”
“The police?!” Darius replied.
End Flashback
As you probably know, Nazy is really ‘into’ painting. (You can view her creations at www.paintingadventure.com.) This week we stopped at the art store to replenish her stock of water colors.
I recalled Melika’s Christmas visit: arriving in the late evening the day before Christmas Eve, she wanted to finish, eh, start and finish, her shopping on the 24th. She asked me for appropriate suggestions. I proposed water colors.
“She likes the van Gogh brand,” I explained as we surveyed a selection of roughly 90 different colored van Gogh cubes. (The cubes, which dissolve in water, were each about 1 square centimeter.)
“Sounds good,” Melika replied. “I’ll have one of each,” she told the clerk.
“One of each!?” the clerk, clearly astonished, replied.
“Right!” Melika commanded in her lawyerly voice.
As the clerk began gathering the cubes, I was overcome by queasiness.
“Should we find out how much these cost?” I asked.
“Good idea Dad.” Melika turned to the clerk and pointed. “How much does that cost?”
“28.80 Francs.” the clerk replied.
“So 90 of these would be almost $3000, Melika.” I noted.
“We will get something else.” Melika concluded.
When Nazy bought watercolors this week, I discovered that one cube cost (Francs) 2.80. (Not 28.80.) I complained to the clerk - the same one who misinformed Melika. The clerk said that she had relayed the price for the ten cubes she had collected.
Most people would have immediately questioned the preposterously expensive cubes. But, as a long-time Swiss resident,I expect everything to be outrageously expensive. Twice the US price is normal, higher multiples are not unusual. I expect to be gouged.
And, finally, it’s US Presidential Primary Season.
“Romney and Gingrich are tied,” I explained.
“I thought Romney was ahead.”
“He’s ahead in delegates and votes. But when it comes to endorsements, they’re tied.”
“Tied?”
“Right. Herman Cain endorsed Newt and Donald Trump endorsed Mitt. It’s a tie: one clown apiece.”
It is rather difficult to take this seriously. We have the spectacle of Newt, the master of hypocrisy (“I’ll impeach Clinton for doing exactly what I’m doing”) whining when someone copies his tactics: outrageously and brutally lying about opponents. Or Newt attacking ‘the hateful media” for making the election process ugly. It’s ugly because of negative, over the top, shocking, vile and appalling attack ads. The media doesn’t pay the these ads - the candidates do.
“Dan!” Nazy interrupted. “Sarah Palin has thrown her support to Newt.”
“Advantage Romney,” I thought.