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April 21, 2009

The Pension Florida, Ch. 8

Wolfgang

I remember once, back in the early Nineties, I was on holiday in Greece with some friends. We were all up on this cliff and diving into the sea. It was beautiful, clear sea, and when you were up high on the cliff you could look down and see the bottom, even from way up. Once though we found this cliff and everyone dared me to jump, cause I've always been one to take a dare. This cliff was enormous. My friend later said he counted up to seven before I hit the water, which means I must have reached terminal velocity. Anyway, on the way down I tried to keep my legs together, but the wind was so strong at that height that I couldn't. When I hit the water it was literally like hitting cement, mate. I hit so hard my swimming trunks were up around my neck. All I remember is I had just enough to get to the surface. I kept thinking, I got to get to the surface. My friend was already swimming toward me, he knew when he saw the size of my splash. I reached the surface and was already sinking again, something was wrong and my friend came and got me and pulled me to shore. The doctors at the hospital later said they couldn't believe I was still alive. Broke my back. Today you can still see that one collarbone is higher than the other, by at least half an inch. The doctors said I could have been paralyzed. Even today when I'm walking sometimes one leg will just go numb for a while.
I was just thinking about that story this morning because I hurt my back again. What happened is I was lifting this keg in the bar and something just went out. Man I couldn't even turn my head, if I wanted to see something to the side I had to literally turn around, mate. That made the meeting with the Plastic People difficult. We met at Shakespeare's and the guy, Vrata, he's in his sixties, and he says, 'Man, you need a chair?'
I don't like other people knowing my business, mate. Jake, this American mate, he's the one introduced me to Vrata. He was trying to make it up to me for something that happened the other day. I asked him to loan me 1,000 for a few days so I could cover some debts. I ended up needing a couple more days and he said no problem, then the next day he gets to drinkin' and comes in and in front of my barman and a few other people starts telling me off about it. I went and got the money, which I had been saving to give back to him, and told him to get out and not come back. You understand, eh? When you're running a business you can't have these kind of things happen and he knows that. So after the meeting with Vrata Jake and I went back to Reincarnation, I have been closed the past few days since that incident, and we had a beer and talked. Told him thanks for helping with Vrata, for thinking of me, but that that doesn't change anything. The same with Grub, he came by to get his shit the other day and I told him I meant it when I said don't come back. It's crunch time for me, mate. If I don't find a way to get this bar going I don't know what I'm going to do. I'll be totally busted. I am already busted to tell the truth, but if I can just keep going somehow, keep my head above the water for a few more months, keep getting the shows in like Plastic People, it might just catch on. The problem is on this street there are already five or six other bars. That's what people tell me, the people who are waiting for me to fail anyway. But I think they're wrong. The Reincarnation has something the other places don't have, a real live venue space. And it's got history, this old building. And I've got the whole multicultural exchange idea,which none of the other places on the street have. We've had groups from Manchester, from France, from Prague, we'll have more bands from England coming over. In exchange we send bands from here over there. You see how it is, mate. A lot of Czech places around here are xenophobic. Like this place Retro down near Namesti Miru. The other night there was a dance party downstairs at Retro and it was only Czech. They wouldn't let any foreigners in. My place isn't like that. It's supposed to be open for everybody. Some of the locals have come to the last couple concerts, a couple anyway. You could see they were impressed by how good the place looks. I'm hoping word will get around. But I think also the owners of the other bars are scared. Like a few months ago when this guy Adam opened his place, all the young people who used to go to Pavel's started going there. They're afraid maybe the same thing will happen. But that's not what I'm after. I'm not out to hurt anybody's business, mate. I just want to get my own going. Some people, like Jake, they say, 'Wolfgang, you got to be crazy, or brilliant ... opening a new business in the middle of an economic crisis. Maybe I am both, mate. But it's like that time I jumped off the cliff in Greece. Something told me beforehand, you know ... but I had to do it.

April 09, 2009

The Pension Florida, Ch. 7

7 Grub

... I like flowers, especially now that spring is here. At the Pension Florida in back there's a nice garden and I've been planting a few. Can buy them real cheap at the tabáks, like 30 crowns a packet. Did I tell you we've got this brick oven in back. Yeah! It's great for barbecues. Barbecues! Spring flowers! Whoo-hoo!
Maria's still about the same. She's just old and senile. At least some days she is. Ha! Yesterday she was walking around in just her bra. Forgot to put on her shirt. She also gave me this stick to carry. 'For your ankle, Grub,' she says. I twisted my ankle bad once, but that was like six months ago, and she forgot. Hee hee! Yeah, that was the time this huge Ukraine guy took a swing at me because I told him he had to leave. He was big and would've killed me, but I took off outside down the steps. It was winter then and I slipped on the steps and sprained my ankle bad. I didn't realize it was so bad until I tried to walk on it, and it was like, man, I had to get a stick. Anyway I ended up calling the cops and the cops said they were going to kick the shit out of me if I called them one more time. But at least that guy's gone.
The Canadian guy Mike, he's gone too. Ha! Ha! He got drunk and tried to take a swing at me too, hee hee! Seems like everyone wants to take a swing at me. I don't know where he's staying now. I don't care. I saw him though the other night outside Chapeau, man, was he drunk! We made peace though. He was standing on the sidewalk, kind of swaying, and he sees me and calls out, 'Man! I LIKE you man!' I just sort of waved and called out, 'PEACE!' and that was that.
Sold a gram at Roxy the other night. Just one. To a friend. These days I pretty much only sell to my friends, especially after what happened at Cross Club that one time. Yeah, Monday nights at Roxy are pretty good. Entry is free and they have some pretty good DJs. Speaking of DJ-ing, I guess I won't be doing it at Wolfgang's anymore. He told me the other day to fuck off, never come back. Then today he calls and says, 'Come by and get your shit.' The thing I cared most about was my skateboard. I miss that, plus I had a few clothes and things. My computer is still there, I told him I'd have to come back for it.
Man, sometimes I don't understand Wolfgang. I mean, the other night, when this French jazz band was there, he kicked me out, said I didn't pay the cover. I was like, 'Dude,' I helped put up this whole railing, and sanded it too. It took a day's work, and he only paid me for like three hours.
I'm really starting to get serious about getting a passport. But it's hard, I mean I barely make enough to pay Maria rent. Yesterday I gave her this pair of jeans this guy gave me. They didn't fit me, but I figure Maria can at least give them to one of her grandkids or something. They weren't bad jeans.
Oh, but hey, at least I got my skateboard back. Whoo-hoo! Yesterday I was up in the park near riegrove sady, man, it was beautiful, and the girls! I met these girls from San Fran, like five of them, and they invited me to this party. It was great, this guy had this beautiful flat near the river. Huge flat, with high ceilings and smooth wood floors. Big windows with a view of the river and castle. We were up all night, I ended up making out with one of the girls from San Fran, but she was this big fat chick ha ha! I don't even remember her name, oh well. But anyway, the guy who owned the flat, this British guy David, he has this computer business back in London, and he lives here in Prague and lets his manager back in London take care of the day to day. So he has all this time and money to party! He says he wants me to DJ a dance party at his place over the weekend. I told him sure, but I need to get my computer back from Wolfgang first.
... I wonder what's up with Aiden these days. He's homeless, I know that. A few times I saw him hanging out real late at the all-night herna bars down in the center. Herna bars! Man, those places are sad. They're where people go to gamble at the slot machines. A lot of them are just money-laundering fronts for the mafia, Czech, Russian, Ukraine, whoever. I don't even know. I don't even think about selling anything in those places, you never know who will come out of the woodwork ha ha! But Aiden, I don't know. He makes his own choices. The other day I ran into Jake and we had a drink at Pavel's, the place next door to Wolfgang's.
'How's Aiden?' he asked. 'Poor guy.'
What do you mean, poor guy? I said. Aiden, he's forty years old, he can make his own choices. He also lost his passport and doesn't have a job. The difference between me and Aiden though is that Aiden's got a kid! Yeah, he and this Czech girl, his ex, have this little kid and she lets Aiden see him sometimes but most of the time she's just calling him up asking him to give her money. Sometimes he's got a lot, like when he gets work in TV adverts and movie work. Usually she takes most of it, and Aiden goes and parties away the rest. So he'll earn like 60,000 crowns and it'll be gone in like three days.
He was staying with Wolfgang and helping renovate the Reincarnation, but the other day Wolfgang finally kicked him out. Yeah! After threatening to do it for like six months, ha ha! I don't know. I told Jake, man you've done enough for him, if you give Aiden anything more it'll just encourage him to keep going the way he is. Oh, that reminds me, I may have a new student. Yeah! This guy I met at Chapeau says he knows this 9 year-old kid who wants lessons. We'll see. I need something besides just selling weed. I wish that archeology job had panned out. I don't know. I tried calling the girl but she never called back.
Ah, but spring is here! Whoo-hoo! I don't feel too bad about Aiden. At least now he doesn't have to worry about freezing his ass off. He can even sleep in the park. I've done that a few times myself. It's really nice up on the hill in Žížkov. The castle is clear in the distance, lit up in blue and orange light, and you can lie on your back and watch the stars. Once I met this guy who had these Czech girls with him, and we sat on a blanket, drank wine and smoked joints and read Allen Ginsberg poems all night until we fell asleep. It wasn't bad at all. That's the Prague I like, the spring when people are outside and the chestnut trees are starting to blossom and you can plant flowers and have barbecues and make a little Super-DISCO! Yeah! Even Maria, hopefully she'll be feeling better now that spring is here.

April 08, 2009

Obama's Prague Speech on Nuclear Disarmament

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April 07, 2009

The Pension Florida, Part 6

2. Wolfgang

I don't know what I'm going to do, mate. I got creditors all over me. Rent on the Reincarnation is coming up, that's a good 60,000. The electricity bill is coming, though I can probably put them off for 90 days or so. I still owe this French girl Chloe, she helped out on the last show, and she's leaving for Budapest tomorrow. I'm just going to have to shut down for a day or two, freeze spending. Talked with the parents back home, and my brother says he wants to come back over, and he'll bring some cash with him, but that may not be for another couple weeks. Krystina, she's helped before, but now that we've separated ...
Jake came by this afternoon. I asked if he could loan me 5,000. He said, 'Man, if you're looking to me to bail you out you're in trouble.' But he gave me 1,000 but I got to give it right back cause he has to pay his rent.
Jake, he's all right, except when he's been drinking. He and I are both that way. We get to drinkin' and we get a bit testy, you know.
Last night Grub came by and I told him to get his shit and never come back. I don't have any obligation to him, he's just somebody Aiden brought around.
Speaking of Aiden, I've told him to clear out too. He's been staying at the Reincarnation going on nine months now. I know what he'll say. He'll give me this sad story about he's got nowhere else to go, and if it wasn't for him none of the other concerts would have happened.
Some good news though: got a phone call from Vratislav, this guy who plays saxophone for Plastic People of the Universe. They were really famous during Communism because they were underground jazz, which was forbidden at the time. Nowadays they still play all over the world. Vratislav, he's in his sixties now, he says he'd love to play at the Reincarnation since it's only three blocks from his house, and he thinks he could get some people in the place. So far we've agreed to four shows. Mate. That might save me, if I could get at least 150 people. That's what I need, at least 150 for each show if I'm going to make any money.
The last show we had, this French jazz group, was great, but only about 60 people were there, and that included friends of the band, who of course got in free. We're still having sound problems downstairs in the main room. I need to soundproof the walls so the sound doesn't bounce around so much, but of course that costs money. The French group played one set on the stage, then gave that up and just went down on the floor with the audience. It was great, acoustic, and people were dancing around them, it felt like a street concert. We made some money, but not nearly enough. Then it all went to shit after the show, we went downtown to the Chapeau Rouge, came back to this place and partied til the morning, and I ended up having to fire one of the bartenders cause he and his friends were doing coke at the table. Mate, I don't need that, imagine if the neighbors would get wind of it.
Then there was this other show that featured local expat bands, Ocean Vs. Daughter and Tower of Dudes. Both bands were good, and they brought in a lot of the expat regulars, plus the editor from Provakator, and she wanted to help market the place, which is great. But that show too only brought maybe 60, 70 people.
If I can just hang on. They say that something like 80 percent of all new businesses fail the first year. Well, I guess you can say I made it through the first year, since it has been a year since I bought the place. The other day Jake says to me, 'Man, you've got a lot of balls.'
'Why's that?' I said.
'Everywhere there's supposed to be a crisis and here you are starting a new business.'
I guess he's right, mate. If I can just hang on, though, at least till my brother gets here, and if the Plastic People gigs pay off, then word could start getting around about the place. I got to try to fly straight, keep away from the drinking and smoking, keep the no-hopers away, then things could be all right.

April 06, 2009

Obama and the Prague Spring/

'When President Obama arrived in Prague this weekend, Prague Spring was waiting for him.'
A bit obvious and kitsch, I know, but that was the lede I mentally considered yesterday as I stood, along with tens of thousands of others, at Hradčany Square waiting for the president to deliver his speech to the expectant city in the heart of Europe.
Looking back, I should have said I was there -- or at least as close as I managed to get-- by a happy coincidence.
As we entered the square, with the dawn breaking over St. Vitus Cathedral and a hazy mist surrounding the far away spires of Vysehrad, a hush settled over those who would be near the podium when the president made his speech, three hours away.
'I can't believe this -- can you believe this?' said an American guy next to me, as he thanked his host.
His excitement was justified.
After all, it was a gorgeous spring day, the sun casting the statue of Tomas Masaryk, the First Republic president, champion of democracy and friend of Woodrow Wilson, in silhouette; indeed, later when Obama delivered his speech, the podium was positioned thus that it seemed the ghost of Masaryk were looking at Obama, considering every word.
But it was more than that. This spring is significant, the year marking the 20th anniversary of the Velvet Revolution which ended a half century of Communist rule, and also this year began with the Czechs assuming the EU presidency. Thus, this particular gorgeous morning, slightly over 40 years since the 1968 Prague Spring, that brief flowering of democracy and intellectual fire that was crushed later that same year when Soviet troops invaded the city, it seemed to me that yes, finally, Prague Spring had returned, and with poetic convenience, in time to reflect the excitement and hope of Obama's first international tour as president.
Certainly these feelings were reinforced when, about a quarter after 10 a.m., the president and First Lady Michelle ascended the podium, which was beautifully decked out in an array of spring flowers. The multitudes that had been waiting since dawn exploded. On the speakers, the chords of Smetana's 'Vltava,' the Czechs' unofficial national anthem, swelled and rolled over the sea of people.
I still wanted to pinch myself. By a stroke of luck, one of my students, Jitka, has a daughter, Andrea, who was working the event as a volunteer and had given me an invitation to be in the special section near the podium, about 10 meters away from the president.
Actually, it wasn't quite that easy. Thousands were already squeezed into the narrow streets around the castle, and all were expectant, like when you're waiting to get a visa. All were determined to get in. A girl with a bull horn entreated the crowd, in Czech and English, to move aside to let those with invitations pass through. This process went slowly, but just as the crowd threatened to get sullen, an army of police, in perfect, quiet order streamed by. The procession, single-file, took the better part of 10 minutes to pass entirely (a reminder that reports indicated 4,000 police would be on hand). This display subdued the crowd, and just then my mobile rang. It was Andrea. She asked where I was and when I told her, I began jumping up, gesticulating, over the crowd. Then I saw her wave. It was the very same girl who was doing crowd control. Seeing this, the crowd, at turns generously and grudgingly, let me pass.
Andrea handed me the invitations. There were three.
Actually, I'd brought only Islam, my Bangladeshe flatmate, and I'd lost him. One minute he was behind me, then he was gone. I scanned the crowd.
'He's very short,' I explained to Andrea. But there were more people coming and it was impossible to see him.
'So you can wait,' Andrea said. She wanted to help.
'They are expecting maybe 30,000,' she said as we both scanned the crowd
I waited for a few minutes, still scanning the crowd. After a few minutes, hating myself for abandoning my friend, I went on through the security gates.
The crowd was a tossed salad of nationalities, more than a few Americans. The closest feeling I could compare would be at a summer festival. Or a trip to the Foreign Police (see Via Prague, July 2008). Everyone, at least in the invited section (perhaps we were subconsciously 'earning our tickets') looked at each other and exchanged little grins of expectation. Unfortunately, the dense crowd wasn't for everybody. One young woman feinted, perhaps from lack of air, and had to be taken away and helped by personnel on hand.
Beforehand student volunteers had passed out Czech and American flags, and these waved in the air covering the crowds like red, white and blue confetti. I was waving an American flag myself. Surrounding me were a German family, a young man from Brussels working at Exxon in Prague, an elderly American woman and her granddaughter. The German family were very excited. 'So in America Obama is much more famous than Bush?' the German man asked. By 'famous,' a slight language mis-transfer, I gathered he meant 'popular.'
At one point, I turned to the elderly American woman and, in somewhat incautious reference to the Bush Administration, said it felt good to proudly wave the flag again. The woman fixed me with a reproachful eye.
'Always be proud of that flag,' she said. 'People have died for you to wave it.' The granddaughter pulled the woman aside and whispered something. 'What?' the woman said. 'I'm right, I think.'
All of this was stampeded out during the Obamas' entrance. The president flashed the smile we'd seen so often on TV, in news reports. Michelle Obama shared the spotlight with ease, giving her husband a 'go on and do it' pat on the arm before retiring off stage. It struck me that I'd always found the couple attractive and charismatic, but that in person -- was it possible?-- they were even more attractive and charismatic. The crowd seemed to agree, for the response was deafening, like at a rock concert. No, not just a rock concert. It was almost like the Beatles were in town.
Even Obama, accustomed to the mania of such stops, and who earlier looked a bit sleepy on the TV screen showing him arriving at the Castle with Czech President Vaclav Klaus, seemed impressed by the fervor of the greeting.
'Thank you, thank you,' he repeated. 'And to paraphrase one of my predecessors, I'm proud to be the man who brought Michelle Obama to Prague!'
A large video screen offered both a view for those on the far side of the square, and Czech subtitles.
I won't spend a lot of time on the president's speech, which lasted about 30 minutes (to the disappointment of some in the crowd, including the young man from Brussels, who said he'd expected at least an hour). Most of the president's speech focused on the need for Europe and America to work together on reducing and ultimately eliminating the nuclear threat. The crowd listened attentively to this part of the speech, occasionally responding with mild shouts of approval. But the best cheers came, as it always has, when Obama drew upon his own personal journey, a journey that Europeans, Czechs included, have found fascinating.
Pointing at the statue of Masaryk, whom Obama called 'a hero to the Czech people,' the president reminded his audience, many of whom can still remember the life behind the Iron Curtain, that just 20 years ago many people didn't believe that the Berlin Wall would ever be toppled, just as in America nobody would have foreseen a black man becoming president.
'Few people would have predicted that an American President would one day be permitted to speak to an audience like this in Prague,' Obama continued. 'And few would have imagined that the Czech Republic would become a free nation, a member of NATO, and a leader of a united Europe. Those ideas would have been dismissed as dreams.
We are here today because enough people ignored the voices who told them that the world could not change.'
In light of the current fight to contain the spread of destructive nuclear weapons, Obama warned the audience about the danger of 'fatalism,' that it's impossible to rid the world of nuclear weapons.
'This goal will not be reached quickly - perhaps not in my lifetime. It will take patience and persistence. But now we, too, must ignore the voices who tell us that the world cannot change.'
I have a vivid memory of an American man standing a few feet away from me, and listening, shouted, 'So -- Disarm!' which apparently went unheard.
Obama made only one brief mention of the U.S. plans to build a missile defense shield, including a radar in the Czech Republic, in Europe. He called the Czechs and the people of Poland, where the missiles would be located, 'courageous.'
Finally, but most importantly, he won Czech cheers by using the phrase 'samota revoluce,' referring to the 89 Velvet Revolution. He spoke Czech. ('He was well prepared,' some would later remark, in varying tones, both complimentary and with studied skepticism).
Obama's speech, particularly its relatively general tone and brevity in regards to the radar, of course didn't send everyone into swoons of praise.
A glance at Ceskenoviny.cz press survey shows that while many were impressed by Obama's poise, statesmanship and charisma, critics said the speech was high on dazzle and short on specifics and muddled by unclear policies.
'A star-filling emptiness,' wrote Petr Fischer in the daily Hospodarske noviny.
'Barack Obama's stay in Prague was disappointing as he behaved like a desperately undecided man who is only able to speak nicely,' griped Teodor Marjanovic in Mlada fronta Dnes
Others complained that Obama had failed also to respond to Czech Prime Minister's controversial statement last week that the president's stimulus package, in reponse to the global financial crisis, is 'the road to hell.'
But the Czech press also had some praise. All found him an engaging speaker and compelling personality.
Barack Obama is really able to provoke hopes, Alexandr Mitrofanov wrote in Pravo.
President Klaus, on a radio show, praised the speech as 'surprisingly Czech, surprisingly Prague,' meaning he was surprised by the number of references Obama made to the country's history.
Also, my friend Tomas, also a teacher who plans to share the speech with his Czech students, wasn't won over by the critics.
'I see what they're saying about the need for specifics,' Tomas said. 'But with Obama, it's not necessarily about the details. It's the idealism, the optimism I think he represents.'
As for the crowd, most of them (myself included) appeared too star-struck immediately after the speech to be able to comment. Plus everyone was a bit tired, from waking up so early and from the hours of build-up and then sudden release of tremendous excitement.
As I readied to leave, the elderly American woman who'd reproached me earlier offered a warm smile.
'Just remember,' she said, indicating the little flag that now drooped at my side. 'Always be proud of that flag.'
'It was better here than it was last summer in Berlin,' I overheard one American girl saying to her friends, as the throng slowly moved out of the square and down the hill into Prague's narrow streets. She was referring to Obama's famous speech at the Brandenburg Gate.
'Yeah?' her friend said.
'Yeah, (in Berlin) it was too hot and there was no water anywhere.'
I walked down the hill. On the street there were a dozen people, all dressed in white costumes, their faces covered in white, expressionless masks. Signs in front of them indicated they were 'Invisible People.' Indeed, soundless too, for they made no sound, but merely looked out like ghosts in the morning.
'Nuclear Disarmament,' read one sign. 'The 70 percent of Czechs who don't want the radar are invisible,' read another.
At the bottom of the hill I waited for a tram, but then realizing traffic was probably tied up, decided to walk across the Vltava River. The earlier mists had burned off and it was a languid spring morning, and the buzz of the day's events was still strong. A tram came just as I crossed the river at the National Theater. It was packed with people coming from the castle. But as it made its way past Charles Square and up the hill toward Peace Square, the tram slowly emptied and there was room to be comfortable. I noticed an elderly couple, Czechs, sitting near the back. They had just come from the speech, and were dressed in their best clothes, the man wearing a tie, salt-and-pepper wool jacket and a hat, and the woman looked similarly prim and respectable. The woman was holding an American flag, a remnant, as mine was, of the day. They were both looking out the window, a look of dreamy contentedness in their eyes. At the next stop a young Czech woman got off, along with her son, he not much more than a toddler. In one hand he held his mother's hand, in the other an American flag. Watching them get off, I thought again about Obama's speech, and the elderly woman. Perhaps the critics are right; Obama is short on specifics at times, but I would say at this point he's offered something else; not just shining rhetoric, but something that I hope in time will mature and matter. He's perhaps given the heart of Europe, so long on the wrong side of history, a chance to perhaps be on the right side this time.
But wait, wait, hold it -- the 'right' side?
Did I forget something? Like, the fact that just two weeks ago the current Czech government collapsed in a no-confidence vote? That polls had indicated some two-thirds of Czechs don't want the radar?
'Ah, you are very optimistic.'
Yes, this came about hour later at Shakespeare and Sons, where I'd gone to cool my head off with a beer and relate the morning's events to the handful of Czech acquaintances. The man I was speaking to was Vratislav Brabinec, saxophonist for the legendary Czech group Plastic People of the Universe. The group was the country's foremost underground avant-garde group during Communism, and still plays all over the world today. Vratislav, now 66, lives in my neighborhood and hangs out at Shakespeare, but until now I'd always been too shy to speak to him. He eagerly listened to my account, a sparkle occasionally gleaming behind his owl-shaped glasses. We talked for a while about Prague Spring.
'It must have been a very optimistic time,' I offered.
'Yes,' Vratislav said, thinking. 'Unfortunately it turned out to be false optimism. I ended up spending time in prison.'
'Why?' I asked.
He laughed wryly.
'For being a jazz musician.'
'I hope it's not that way with Obama,' I said later. 'I mean, I hope it's not all false optimism.'
'Me too,' my companion said.
I told Vratislav my favorite Czech expression was 'uvidime,' which means, 'We'll see.'
He laughed.
'That's your favorite?' We sat and the barman brought me a beer and refilled Vratislav's wine glass, and we talked about jazz, his band, the economic crisis, the Bible, and Obama. The details aren't important, except to say when we finished Vratislav crowned me 'an optimist,' which I suppose I am, but as always, a cautious one.
When I got home later my flatmate Islam, from Bangladesh, was finishing a meal with his friend Sujit. I felt bad because Islam and I had set out together that morning, but in the crush and confusion of the crowds we'd become separated. So instead of being near the podium with me, Islam had watched everything in the general public section.
'It's OK,' Islam said. 'There was nothing you could do. The crowd was very crazy.'
I asked what he had thought of Obama.
'Very good,' he said. 'Many people were there. If many people are there you must be good. I think Obama is very good.'
Later, I noticed Islam had taken the American flag I'd brought home from the speech and put it up on the refrigerator.

April 02, 2009

The Pension Florida, Ch. 5

5

Wolfgang

Mate, I got too many no-hopers around. Know what I mean? Aiden, Grub, you know what I mean. They all think that just because I've got Reincarnation that means I'm floating in cash. Wrong, mate. To be honest I'm close to busted. If it wasn't for my family back home, I would be. Never thought it would turn out this way. Owning a bar. Originally my plan was to have a tour operator business. My brother Alex was here at the time and I bought this place for him, thinking he'd run it. But he went back home and got a job in the mines. Says he'll be back over but we'll see.
Me? I've been in Prague ten years. Grubs, he'll tell you about when we worked on his dad's farm down in Budějovice, sure mate, and each day he comes in here he wants to tell me how I much he's done for me. Same with Aiden. He's been crashing downstairs the past nine months, hasn't paid me anything, never even offered to buy even a beer. The other night, I had the first bands arrive from Manchester, we had our first show, and Aiden I find out later had charged nine beers at the bar, didn't pay for any of it. Same with Grub, he shows up and goes downstairs without paying the cover, then wants to go over and start selling dope to my customers and telling my sound guy what to do. Sure I said he could DJ, but mate he forgets I'm the one doing him a favor.
See what these guys don't know, or can't understand, is I'm a business man. Grub, he wants to come in here during business hours and I've got people all over the neighborhood watching me; they're all waiting for me to fuck up. See, the Reincarnation, it's a very old venue. It was the first cinema in Prague, or one of the first, built back in the 1930s. When I got the place, you shoulda seen it, mate. The whole interior was practically gutted, worthless. Mate, I've got so far into debt turning the place around. On this street there are four or five other bars and believe me, they're not too happy about having competition, especially from a foreigner who's taken over their old beloved theater. The old people aren't so bad. A few have come by and said they appreciate what I've done to the place, and at least I've got the owner of the building, at least the guy who owns 60 percent of it, behind me. He comes in every few days for a cup of coffee and a look around.
That's what these guys, Aiden and Grub, they don't understand. I've got people watching me. More than a few really want me to fail. They expect me to fail. So I've got to keep a cap on the no-hopers. See what I'm saying?
Hell, this place has cost me -- well, I'm not at liberty to tell you how much financially. But it has cost me Krystina. We were together over a year, she wanted to settle down and have children and maybe I shoulda listened to her. She really is a fine woman. Lovely too. She came by the other night with her brother to the first show and she helped out behind the bar a bit. It felt good for her to see (after all she helped a lot) the place finally getting off the ground -- for a long time it didn't look like it would -- it's just a shame it was too late by then.
Or maybe it's not too late. That's something I'm trying not to think about. Got too much else to worry about besides. This weekend got a big show coming. 100 people. I need 100 people, at least. Otherwise after that I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Seriously, mate. That's what these other guys don't understand.
Take the other day, remember? when Grub came in here after I'd called him. I specifically told him to come by after five, 'cause I had a meeting with this guy from one of the breweries. They're going to make a pretty good offer, and it's a serious meeting, and this guy he knows Grub from the Blind Eye, knows he's a drug dealer, and here he is coming in right in the middle of our meeting. And he wonders why I give him the cold shoulder. I realize sometimes, especially after I've been drinking or smoking, that I can act a bit thick. I get to thinking I'm this kind of god. I realize that, but these guys they have no consideration for what I'm trying to do here. Aiden, he says, 'Man, you'd be nowhere without me!' and how it was he who did all the reconstruction work (which I paid him for) and it was he who got the contact in the UK, etc. etc. I don't need his contacts or his work. I don't need him crashing here and not paying anything and running up tabs at the bar, and then him acting all hurt when I get pissed. I've told him to leave twice now, once just after Christmas and then again last month. Each time he gives me his sad story, how he's got no passport, how his ex his bleeding him and he needs to look after his son, and how no one will give him work and I'm the only one who can help him, and how he's done so much for me. Mate, it's too much. I don't need it. Yeah, no hopers. Just too many no hopers.