16-IV-1973.
Meeting at the regional committee of the youth union, about that quiz. Last year the gimnazija was the champion, now it's a couple of days before it commences and we don't even have a team. I initially thought it was a general history-of-the-period quiz, as it was named "Along the paths of the revolution", but no, for each such quiz there was a book on the subject, mostly local history, which would be published a few months ahead of it. So each school would task a team to read the book and memorize as much as they could, and then the quiz questions would be from the book. Today, that would sound like a good scam to sell the book.
In the evening she looked at me so endearingly, that look when we can't see enough of each other...
But it wasn't enough. When I got home it all fell down on me, what with presidency, and shit with the second issue of the newspaper, and all the crap with which I wasn't even connected but somehow was responsible for in the end. Well, know what, I refuse to be responsible for things I can't influence. I don't have the authority, and don't want to have it. I'll just push my thing, and let the system carry itself into three mother's cunts.
On tuesday morning visited the Paštaonda's drummer, to take that recording (the sound? - "snimak" means any of those, picture, sound or video). Didn't get much done, because he was unconsolable, his cat fell through the window, from 2nd floor (3rd american). The cat, of course, survived, but it went through an emotional shock, and he was sharing it now.
Then the staff should have met, but ŽGLJ fucked up with the political school timing, well fuckit. Talked with the school secretary, he calmed me down. Afer classes we didn't meet, she had something. In the evening, on the town, I told her how the drummer was sooo unhappy that his cat fell down from third floor and stayed alive. Recorded some music - Mlinarec, "Warehouses of silence" for "Rockefeller grandson's complex" (still no clue what the film was about) and "Junk festival".
On wednesday (18th) morning, downtown. Dad at forced vacation*, the factory is in the pit, so he finds a reason every now and then to get in the car and go somewhere. Bought the "Jedna žena" lousy single, that's not it but at least it has that organ passage, though even that is incomplete. Dropped by the secretary to see about that quiz. Luckily the diša** was there and the historian, and he dealt with the issue briefly - V. Smetovački and another girl will be the quiz team, and Jozda, Zova and Višnja for the štafeta. Done.
Took that decision into the regional and amen.
The PTO began at 18:30. To get a chance to defend ourselves, we asked to be present too, and the classmaster agreed. There were just fourteen parents, and 27 of us. The discussion was inflamed, because on each right (yes, when someone breaks off we all laugh, can't expect us to twirl our thumbs and watch the ceiling) there are five trumped up accusations and three exaggerated ones (part of that is because Čombe is a bit crazy). Then it was about the work dresses (for the girls), then Tejka starts about what diša said to parents at semester end, which almost got us into trouble, because it (rightfully so) comes out as if he's telling whatever one likes to hear, one thing to them, different one to us. At some point I come up with the assertion that our troubles began when Radisav saw Baki at the village soccer field when he was allegedly on sick leave. Which he actually was, he was returning from the doctor and the playground is on the way and stopped by to chat with him. Miraculously he gets and ace in russian next week, and avoids the one in oto by hair's breadth. May I skip the words used to announce that, witnesses exist (this stung her, though she often wore a face as if she could start crying in two steps any minute). And then I got the best cards.
- as for what you say that we vent out at the classes, I'd ask where to do it then? How, where, and when?
Tejka: go dig
- I did but can't always find the time. Here, you were in our skin, if I have it right, just seven or eight years ago. Are we so much worse than the then generation? I don't mean your class as such, I hear they were great, but generally.
- Well you know the jokes were more, like, childish. This is more premeditated and moves into rudeness.
- That's what's ailing me too. Isn't it sad that we've, at the same age, lost that childishness and switched to cunning, pranks and the rest. And by the same amount we are more aware that we're tailoring our own future and that responsibility is on our necks. Yet that extra energy has to fly out somewhere.
- Those who are bored in this school can go and pass the exams extraordinary, two grades at the time if they want.
- That's alright but what about the majority who go regularly?
And it went on for more than two hours. Tejka predicted that I'll get scrubbed at home. Had some dispute with her mom, too, on the way out. Dad, however, stayed moderate. It seems the quip with the exams extraordinary was unclear to him too.
Around this time we had our favorite mason (the same guy who remodeled everything in 1963 and built the bathroom and the garage) do something about painting the front side of the house, this time using an advanced technique - no brush, but a wineyard spray. The paint was powdery, though, so it had to be mixed and sifted, which was slow and tiresome work, but then the results were great - the whole front got quite lively, and the result held for decades.
He was an interesting guy, funny in his ways, a typical Lala, even wore that small hat at all times (see hats). He remarried to a woman from that village near the border, where they have an interesting way of dealing with family money - everybody tries to grab as much as possible for self. With them both having a child from before, it turned out quite interesting. He built a house, just about standard size. When he married his daughter off, this woman soon divorced him and somehow kept the house - he had to go live in the cottage in the garden they had somewhere.
It's obvious that we still have no sidewalk. Not raw soil either, it's full of pebbles left over from previous masonry works, which still didn't help - it would be mud after any decent rain. The pines are twelve years old now, grew nicely, but still offer no shade. The poles... that seems to be the most variable part of the landscape. At Kale's corner there's a metal one now, used to be double concrete one until recently. Boy, how the ground shook when they felled it. The wooden one on our corner is for the houses on our side of the street, to the railway. Both poles vanished later and were replaced with one, in place of the big accacia. The accacia was pruned to a hilt every few years, and it would regrow the branches from that. It grew quite a head in there.
The next day (19th) we put a dropbox for texts for the "The Gram" by the school entrance, which I nicked from the community center. It's a discarded old ballot box, which I pasted over with newspaper clips under an angle, and the information and instruction over it. Then secretary told me it's not okay to address the people as "brothers and sisters" as that's what četniks did. Fuckit, how many things one has to watch out for.
Rudolf and Bruno think a stereo recorder would be too expensive (though it's still half cheaper than a mono here). They say they went to Moscow. Amazed that the Russians let them in, even more that they let them out.
CD somehow convinced me to shoot the amateur singers spring contest. The behind-the-scenes turned out to be a live pee (slang for extremely funny), they have worse stage fright than at the dentist's. Warm-up act was Grne and his "Walk of time" band (new one).
Friday 20th. Finally the quiz. For all the quick preparation, it turned out well enough. Lost only from medEcal (local dialect says "medecine") high in the finals. About the fiasco with the 2nd issue of "The Gram", Furcula is trying to lay the blame on me. As if we don't know him.
On saturday no sixth class again. Went with Bajlo, Siške, Mjedac and Mandža to Trpeza, shook a vinjak and then it did me. Waited for her. Thought we'd go somewhere for a treat, it's three months now (and to flush Ema out of my mind, met her in my street, said her sister lives nearby), but no, she took a bus home. Maybe she's ill a bit. Went with Eči and Kid to watch "The french connection".
Dad passed another exam, treated me an LP, it was Elton John's "Honky chateau" this time.
Waited for her on sunday evening, waited and in the end found her at the disco. We sort of tried to decide about mayday and in the end didn't. The vacation is looming over us, it's almost obvious that we won't be together.
Passing by the club I heard some sounds. Could it be that Z. came to the same idea? On the way back I find it was Pop and a pal, they did a bunch of good photos.
On friday (27th) buzzed all around, to the club to get the camera, then waited for her at Proleter until 10:20 (she didn't come), then shot the štafeta for the "Junk festival" (i.e. Višnja running, as the "what happened later" part). At school we skipped chemistry, ŽGLJ is away and we don't fuck the substitute. We lizarded around the yard. History class we went to the museum, and I scheduled answering. Oh, well.
(... 96 words...)
School on saturday was just in the name - had only three classes and what classes those were. Walked downtown, inspected the shop windows.
On sunday snitched the editor gadget from the club and in the afternoon just sat and put together that festival of junk. Got the old jeans and old jacket in the evening, mom asked whether I'm going for a radnaakcija again. Waited at the corner near the club. Sat on the supermarket's treshhold and decided that the world is much more interesting from underneath. She appeared in the twentieth minute(... 29 words...).
On the way back I got into the walking momentum, but some guy with a small truck picked me up, he was there along the way talking with some girl. He left me by the supermarket, a block from home.
And the quiz was more or less like this. The MC is a girl from fourth grade, whom they always assigned to that task, because of her perfect diction and good microphone voice, so why not here too, at the city level.
V. Smetovački should be 2nd from the left, among the sitting on the next picture. The others are from other high schools, and this show was made to look as if this was the 2nd level of competition, that there were dozens of students who prepared for this, competed at school level and victoriously went on to the city level. None of that in reality, there was no school level competition, I think the two of them got one or two copies of the book to cram from it and that was it. I doubt that even the school principal even leafed through the book, and why would he, he's not from here.
In the žiri, the near one is from SSOJ (though I think that at this time it was its predecessor, the SO, Savez Omladine), of course, a member of their municipal committee. Can't know for sure from a profile picture, but I think it's very likely one of the twin brothers of legal persuasion. The rest are from SUBNOR***, and Knjaz Miloš is from glass bottles. Spot in the background how smoking was allowed anywhere in Dom and how female comrades of older generations wore skirts knee high at least, possibly a bit higher.
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* forced vacation is when the enterprise is practically not operating, but there's still no firing, they just consider the staff on vacation and on payroll, there's still money for that, and when conditions improve, i.e. when cash appears, they go back to work. It worked this time.
** diša (deesha) - director, in mild slang
*** people-liberation war veterans' associations' union
Mentions: 16-I-2023., Borko Bošković (Furcula), Branislav Rade (Baki), Bruno Kessler, David Jamaček (Kale), Dom omladine, Endre Felbab (Eči), gimnazija, Grne, Joško Čobzanin (Čombe), Jovan Zdanić (Jozda), Marko Popović (Pop), Nenad Bajlo (Bajlo), OTO, Radisav Pajsić, radnaAkcija, Rudolf Ochsner, Siniša Savin (Siške), Slavica Tejin (Tejka), Slavoljub Mandić (Mandža), Smetovački, SSOJ, štafeta, The Gram, Trpeza, vinjak, Višnja Lazin, Zdravko Smetovački (Zova), Zoltan Kadar (Kid), žiri, Živko Mjedenica (Mjedac), Živorad G Ljubišić (ŽGLJ), in serbian