For three weeks now I'm in a discussion on sezam, on History forum, of all places, about Amers, their influence on civilization, about education, how textbooks are written, well about everything.
Today's tidbit, someone asked me „In your own time you in Zrenjanin had some internal / television of te StB kind. Si tat ting stil alive?“
I reply „There was something three times for two months each time, in different configuratinos last and forelast year, and it even looked like something (they even managed to drag me into the studio once or twice :)...The fuckup was that each of three times they thought that the local pri(h)vatniks will burst with desire to spin their advertisements on the local station. Though, they did get a lot of those, but the guys' wished for much more money (that'd be tvzr3). The price was the same if they make the ad for you and if you bring your own tape with the ready made one; the quality, design and the rest... we made nicer stuff twenty years ago in that foto kino klub. Okay, I exaggerated, but the customers were dissatisfied all the same. So money dwindled to nothing and it's been a year since we have no local tv.“
I actually don't remember being in a studio... Or maybe I was there just to talk with someone, didn't face the camera for sure. Local radio was a different matter, that I remember, though not exactly which year it was, this or some fisix years later. Now that I remember that Dravić was by the microphone, it decides it for this year - soon he'll learn to avoid me.
One sunday afternoon Nina felt like having an icecream. We got on our bikes... or just one? I do remember that her poni was still new and that we rode it, but whether it was each with [their] own bike or both of us on the poni, which is not impossible, just unwieldy, it's low, the wheels are 20 inch. The shop where they had icecream on a sunday afternoon was a new one, opened by a fresh refugee from Slavonia, from the first wave, who came here with money. It was in the sidestreet by Šanta, a corner away, just the quiet area. We parked our bike(s), got the icecream, then slowly rode home. Halfway to Šanta, from the other direction, walks a guy, not on the sidewalk but on the road, a guy in a shabby suit without a shirt, unbuttoned, all disheveled, in heavier shoes but without socks, and around his chest there's a kiddie float belt, what with a goose's head, which sticks up and the beak is next to his cheek. Obviously as drunk as a slat, who knows what happened. The view was unforgettable.
24-VI-2024 - 21-XI-2025