17-VIII-1971.

More garage and backroom work on 15th. This time dad and I were straightening that 6mm wire, which is half steel and very, well, springy.

The wire is used for the reinforcement in the roof of the garage-to-be. Usually, this came in spools of perhaps a meter in radius, and would be tied around a tree, the other end tied to a tractor, and then it would drag it into a straight line. No tractor around, and dad probably didn't even think to look for one, so we just laid the more or less straight wire on a fosna (50mm plank) and hammered it to true straight. Lots of work, all afternoon, One hammer and one small pliers, dad never amassed a collection of tools, always made do with what he had. These wires need to be fit into the grooves of the lined up ceramic elements and cemented in place, making beams. These would sit and set while we're away, and then the garage roof, actually a concrete slab, can be poured.

We straightened some ten 5m pieces, then twenty more after lunch. Was too tired to go anywhere in the evening, so watched some TV (some comedy with Jerry Lewis, and an episode of "Untouchables").

On monday, more of the same, but at least we finished with the wires, then we cleaned up the weeds on the route of the sewer line from the garage to the old well aka shit pit. Listened to "Veče uz radio" in the evening, Belgrade 1 is almost OK, technically, signal is strong enough to be usable even at night. I mostly gave up on this, but hey, nothing else to do... and I did listen to it until they started pressing on with those newcomers, the "Yu grupa". Switched briefly to [studio] B and started writing a letter to Pepsi.

Today, more wire to straighten, but this was some 3mm softer wire, so no big deal. Passed the day.

There is an ongoing rumour that Josipa Lisac would become a member of Korni grupa. She did sing one part with them in the "Poem 1941.", which was recorded this year (and published in 1975, post festum). This would be the best of both worlds, and I was thinking how good it would be ever since I saw her sing "Kapetane moj" and them with "Jedna žena" last year. Fingers crossed (i.e. holding my thumbs, in serbian).

On 18th, I was digging that ditch, then in the afternoon melting the tar. The sewage tubes are 160mm ceramic jobs, and there are two ways to seal the seams between segments - molten lead or molten tar. Two years ago it was lead, in that segment from the bathroom to the pit. This time we did it the simpler way. By the end of the day, I've refilled the ditch and tamped the soil.

On 20th, it was a lazy summer afternoon, everyone taking a siesta except me. I was looking for some good music on the transistor but didn't find it. If/when dad wakes up, he'll find more work, fuck that garage, but if I slip now, the work will wait and then I'll have to do it when I return, late in the day... But there wasn't much to do. There was a few bags of cement in the fića (routinely taking out the shotgun seat, and taking care not to tear the bottom sack on the seat fittings). I don't think it could take more than 3, worst case 4 bags. Anyway, that's five minutes work to take those to the backyard. In the evening, mom told me not to stay so long. Why? I'm afraid that someone may ambush you and beat you up. Okay, I'm not going at all. Why? I'm afraid that someone may ambush me and beat me up. Oh c'mon, don't be silly, I mean it seriously. So do I, I don't feel like going anymore, I lost the taste for it.

To demonstrate that I mean it seriously, I lied on the couch and started concentrating on whatever those idiots on the TV news were exposing. Then granma warned me to not lie in the new shirt. I got up and took of the shirt and lied down again.

(It seems we were both giving each other a hard time, specially mom... She did want me to grow into a gentleman from the Hollywood movies, somewhere between Fred Astaire and Kerry Grant or so, and to have fun, but on the other hand tried to preserve me from all the possible negative influences... so I guess she was just as confused as any other parent of a teenager. It didn't help that I was racked between my own wishes and the lack of success, I was easily annoyed.)

Ended up going to ruža all the same, then to Lesnina, then to the carting (the electric bump carts, not the go kart) on the Wheat square but it was already closed, then downtown, found nobody, caught the last ace (the #1 bus) at 21:15 and went home. Shit, I work and go nowhere for five days, and then once I get out, nobody nowhere.

On 20th I finally had a good day. Went downtown to buy some batteries for the transistor, and to send that letter to Pepsi (I added a couple of slogans, like "fuck the crazymen" and "don't cry, I'll buy you another"). Met Tejka, she had that "Straight ahead" song for me to translate. She complained that her mom knows everything except that she's been to Pišta's place and that she smokes when she comes to my place. Someone's ratting on her. When I got home, Dragana and Eči came (as Tejka told me they will). We played some remi, exchanged jokes collected on our vacations (they fell for half a hole), then went to ruža. There we mocked Zvojko and Eči for having to go for popravni exams. That means they already tried to pass that in june, and failed, august is the last chance term.

On 21st went to ruža and Zvojko made me go to the dance (prob'ly in Dom, there weren't other places to go). I first didn't want to go, having no money on me, and the gang was wrong - among them one wrong guy from VIII₂ whom I disliked - but eventually decided I could lose them when we get there. As soon as we entered (entrance was from the riverside, into the yard) I saw, near the corner of the dance podium, one cute light purple shorts, with a perfect round butt packed in it, followed by nice legs. I couldn't get my eyes off it, and nearly bumped into someone. Didn't get into any trouble, just told myself to watch out and watch around... and then I lifted my eyes above the butt. It belonged to Oli Boj. Bosa was with her. I joined them immediately and forgot those guys on the spot. Got to dance with Bosa, and at least I didn't hesitate, asked her right away, in a slightly circumspect way:

- so do you think I'm simmering you or not?

- it doesn't matter

- perche doesn't matter?

- write it off, man, write it off

Well at least it was short and to the point and no hard feelings.

Still I escorted them to ruža.

On 22nd Dragana and Tejka came, we just sat and talked and then they both kissed me, my birthday was the next day, specially Dragana, she kissed me a lot (with lots of smell of toothpaste, which hey used to mask the smell of smoke so they wouldn't be detected at home).

Didn't make no birthday party, worked with majstors most of the day. Sifted the sand, carried bricks, pumped the water. From this period there's a photo of Tejka's father with a shovel, he just added himself to a moba, helped to mix the concrete. May he be a director of some larger factory, he's still a man of the people, sees the work going on, grabs a shovel.

In the evening, Veca and Sneca came, crazy as ever, but on dry land now, no sea to throw them into.

The next day they came again. At some point Veca found the current notebook of my diary, asked what it was, and then when she heard she tried to read. I won, they didn't get it. Then later I stashed the previous six notebooks somewhere as well. They wanted to hear at least one day from Borik, but no. They better never know. So I started retelling them, in broad strokes, the first one... and they eventually lost interest.

The work on the garage and backrooms is grating on my nerves. I don't mind the mess - the yard is a battlefield - I'm used to it. Don't mind the work itself either, it has to be done, and done with. It's that dad and I are both tired, and not in good mood. He has several ways to annoy me and then I turn out clumsy, do everything wrong (or so he says). He also has this annoying manner of "come here" and then he tells me to bring something that was exactly at hand where I was standing. His instructions aren't clear either, so "find" doesn't qute tell me what he wants - I bring the wrong hammer, or stare blankly because he says the thing is "there" or "up". His "up" is often confusing, specially when he means directions, because this is a flatland, and the total variation in height all over the city is about two meters. He'd also complain if the drinking water wasn't cold enough, or if I used my legs to move something "are you so lazy to bend, why do you have hands, when I see you doing it with your legs I get the urge to beat you". The special technique would be to keep me standing for ten minutes or more with nothing to do, then invent some new thing to do as soon as I sit.

(he kept those habits for a long time, for the next 25 years, until I got fed up and started telling him so... it involved walking the 70m of vineyard to hear that I should bring the hammer, which was by my foot when he called; also he'd always overload the wheelbarrow and I told him stuff will fall off - nope it won't - OK, I'm not picking any of it up, and it fell and I didn't)

So anyway, the summer was more or less wasted - I failed with at least four girls, don't even have a firm circle of friends, and things have become annoying at home. I did the only thing I could think of: wrote a long letter to Melanija, which is a cunning plan. To keep her interested but not overdo it, just to keep the flame low until the next festival, or whichever occasion it may be when we next meet. I saw here as not something between friendship and courtship, but a strong spiritual tie. As in two curious spirits have found each other and found they have lots to talk about, and may be in love a few days a year.

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Mentions: Borik, Bosiljka Šain (Bosa), Dom omladine, Dragana Vitas (Dragana), Eči, fića, Lesnina, majstor, Melanija Tisarević, moba, Olivera Stojanović (Oli Boj), Pišta Rac, popravni, remi, ruža, Slavica Tejin (Tejka), Snežana Stojanović (Sneca), Vera Stojanović (Veca), VIII₂, Zvonko Darišić (Zvojko), in serbian