Posts Tagged ‘Romanians’

The Young Americans… In Canada

September 19, 2011

Dion had decided at the age of twenty six that it was time to throw in the towel, lower the flag and wave the white drapeau that signifies giving in or giving up. For women the announcement of marriage to other women sends voices up octaves, accompanied by hand holding, discussions about dresses and registries. For men, especially young men, the news is received, processed and then there is a two second delay where the stone faces of other male comrades, brothers and friends appear to ask why with their eyes. Once Dion’s friends and cousins accepted the news the first important question among men was asked.
“When and where are we having the bachelor party?”
Dion was born in Romania with his other Romanian friends and cousins and wound up of all places in Detroit. Dion grew up to love all things Detroit; American cars, Lions, Tigers, Red Wings and Pistons. Dion loved University of Michigan even though he never attended the school. Trumpet playing of all things lead him towards his destiny of finding and falling in love with the minister’s daughter at a Romanian Pentecostal Church in Detroit. It actually was a Missionary Baptist Church for the most part with a black congregation but at noon when the black Baptists were having coffee in the gym, the Romanians would come in and have their service in Romanian and then when the Romanians took the gym, the Koreans took the sanctuary. By the time the Koreans took the gym for their post church fellowship, the church janitor had well earned his day of rest which would have to come on a Monday.
Dion was a band geek in junior high and high school and offered to play trumpet after his mother had prodded him to go back to church and play his trumpet with the organ player during the hymnal periods of the service. It all worked out for Dion. Dion met Dianna, the daughter of the minister of their church who was beautiful and detached at the time Dion met her. Dion gave up drinking, swear, chewing tobacco, visits to casinos, and strip clubs. Dion went to rough parts of Detroit with his girlfriend as inner city missionaries to try and work with teens. Dion liked that idea a lot better than packing up and moving to Angola and so he willingly got together with his girlfriend to spend Friday and Saturday nights playing basketball and talking about the word of god with poor children that cared more about getting a nice car, a nice piece of ass and money in their pockets by any means necessary. Speaking English in a Portuguese speaking country like Angola might have been easier than trying to convince poor inner city black teens in Detroit that leading a clean life, will lead to positive things. Some bought into it and other showed up to the church gym to play basketball and eat coffee cake. After a year or more of this sort of stuff, Dion decided that being with Dianna on a full time basis was his destiny in life and so be posed the question, Dianna cried and accepted. A life of marital bliss was immanent if not terminal for the young couple.
Theo, Dion’s cousin and life long friend, got their inner circle of friends together to do Dion’s last night as a single man the right way. Theo knew that his cousin had played along with the no sex, no drinking, no dancing and no swearing rules of devout Romanian born again types but also knew that his cousin Dion was once quite the partier and cocksman.
“Troy, Tommy, you and me are going to Windsor tonight. I got the Fong Sisters coming to a private suite that I rented on the top floor of Caesar’s Windsor. The Fong Sisters are lesbian and sisters. Totally out of control, dude… Where you can find sisters who are lesbian and would do each other in front of people? That is extra special. I met them at the casino last month in Windsor. I’m telling you, they are smoking hot and will do anything. They originally came from China but live in Ontario now. Beautiful fucking faces, tight asses and huge fake tits on skinny frames. They got a website where you can see them 69ing each other covered in chocolate syrup.” Said Theo.
“I would have been fine going to a strip club around here, getting a few beers and calling it a night,” said Dion.
“Whaddya you like fifty now? Fuck that shit… You are going down but you’re going down in a grand style, bro. Don’t sweat it, it will be mayhem. Fully stocked bar in the limo, fully stocked bar in the suite, room service and the lesbian show… Oh and I paid for the happy ending shower with them both for you.” Said Theo as he high fived Dion.
The foursome drank in the back of the stretch limo and blared music. They opened up the moon roof, stood and yelled like little boys in the tunnel that went under the Detroit River from downtown Detroit to Windsor, Ontario in the country of Canada. Once on the Canadian side of the river, cameras picked up the sight of four young men hanging out of the moon roof up to the waist, singing, yelling and hoisting drinks which spilled onto each other. Constable Williams caught sight of this on his desk monitor while he ate a sandwich he had just purchased on Huron-Church Road at the Tim Horton’s which was on the south side of the street, not to be confused with the Tim Horton’s on Huron-Church on the north side of the street, less than a kilometer away from the Tim Horton’s on the south side of Huron-Church Road.
Yes. Well then, Constable Williams was eating his sandwich and studying the monitor of unruly Americans in a limousine. Pieces of the bread stuck to his bushy moustache. Constable Williams lifted the cup to his tea and doused the tea bag several times before taking a sip. He put the quartet on full screen and followed them all the way up to line three at customs. Constable Williams got on the phone and called for the sniffer dogs to meet him at line three.
The limousine queued up behind several cars. The driver was an older black man that was listening to the Detroit Tigers game in his compartment, not paying attention at all to the frat boy activity going on the other side of his contained area. The boys were mixing drinks and singing when the doors were thrown open. Two German Sheppards accompanied four uniformed men who had just asked the four young men to step out of the vehicle.
“Smart people you are in America, eh?” Asked Constable Williams.
Theo giggled and said, “yes, sir”.
“You young Americans… Just like in the David Bowie song. You boys know that song, eh? So smart in America that they spent millions to send men to the moon just so that they could say that they sent men to the moon and give em a ticker tape parade in New York City… Yes, you Americans are so smart. Only smart men would ride in the tunnel that have hanging signs that could decapitate them as they stick their heads out of an opening in the roof. Smart, young Americans… You smart men have anything you want to declare before we set the dogs to find contraband?”
The four young men all sobered up enough to take Constable Williams seriously. Three out of the four men had nothing worse than chewing tobacco on them. Theo though thought that buying two joints from a guy at work would be the icing on the cake as the Chinese born sisters and lesbians did their thing in front of them. Of course they were going to purchase Cohiba Cigars at the duty free store and take them up to their suite also. Theo had forgotten about the two joints packed in a plastic bag that was in a small pocket on the sleeve of his Hollister sweat shirt. The first German Sheppard found the joints in a matter of three seconds. The dog put its front paws up on Theo’s shoulders as if they were going to slow dance together. Constable Williams held up the discovered bag with two hand rolled joints and smiled.
“We are about to get to know each other very intimately tonight, boys.”

Dion stood up and day dreamed as his soon to be father-in-law conducted the wedding ceremony. To Dianna’s eye, Dion looked to have been crying. She had no idea that her betrothed had been drinking, smoking, detained by Canadian border guards and forced to do a full cavity check, naked in a bare room with a lot of lights. Dion could only think about touching his toes and the Canadian guard flashing a light up his ass as the guard probed around with a gloved index finger in search of further illegal contraband. They boys never made it to the hotel. They were detained at the border until the early hours of the morning and then sent back to the United States without their joints or really good stories to share with their friends. During the ceremony, Dion turned and looked at his best man, Theo with squinty eyes and could only shake his head as he recalled the indignity of his night in Canada. Call it bad luck of the draw or that God truly does work in mysterious ways.

David Bowie- Young American

I got a suite and you got defeat
Ain’t there a man you can say no more?
Ain’t there a pen that will write before they die?
Ain’t you proud that you’ve still got faces?
Ain’t there one damn song that can make me
break down and cry?
All night
I want the young American
Young American, young American, I want the young American

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Covalent Bonding or Schopenhauer’s Girlfriend

May 10, 2011

Covalent chemical bonds involve the sharing of a pair of valence electrons by two atoms, in contrast to the transfer of electrons in ionic bonds. Such bonds lead to stable molecules if they share electrons in such a way as to create a noble gas configuration for each atom.
Hydrogen gas forms the simplest covalent bond in the diatomic hydrogen molecule. The halogens such as chlorine also exist as diatomic gases by forming covalent bonds. The nitrogen and oxygen which makes up the bulk of the atmosphere also exhibits covalent bonding in forming diatomic molecules.

Phoebe woke up early to go over her chart about Covalent Chemical bonds for her first lesson plan as a student teacher at the John Elroy Sanford High School on the north side of Chicago. John Elroy Sanford, better known as Redd Foxx or Fred Sanford, had donated a large sum of money to the Chicago Public Schools.
Phoebe showed up early to class before the students showed. She wore a sleeveless dress and wore her black horned rimmed glasses which she felt made her look more adult than without them. Phoebe at best looked to be twenty years of age although she was closer to thirty. Hall monitors asked her for hall passes and male students tried to talk to her on more than one occasion.
The Chemistry teacher was a man by the name of Bill who mistook Phoebe’s smile and approachable demeanor to be interest. Bill showered that morning and doused himself in Chocolate Axe. He had heard some teenage boys talking in the hallway about how the cologne was loaded with pheromones and how females could not resist a man wearing the said cologne. Bill died the gray from his hair, flossed his teeth and bleached his breath with mouthwash and gum. He wore a spandex shirt under his collared shirt that kept his slight gut looking flatter and his man tits from looking too missile like. Phoebe proudly showed Bill her chart about Covalent bonds. Bill stood beside Phoebe, careful not to rub up against her even though he was itching to touch her caramel colored skin. Bill had heard that Filipino girls were wild for white men and so he was oozing confidence.
“That is a wonderful chart, Feebs…”
Phoebe was completely disgusted that a man old enough to be her father, had breached the space between two human beings in western cultures, lowered his voices and whispered near her ear. Fortunately for Phoebe, the first two students entered the class. They were loud and obnoxious for 8:00am in the morning. Several more students filed in until all the seats were filled. Phoebe nervously began to speak to the students that looked to be her age. The boys were sizing her up; they looked at her arms and legs and studied her pleasant face as she spoke about things that they did not care anything about. The girls in the class criticized her appearance to make themselves feel better. Phoebe felt like she was under a microscope. Her mentor whose eyes never left her form, the boys in the class that thought about sex every four seconds on average and the young women that looked like they wanted to work her over after class. Phoebe did all she could to conduct the class with clammy, shaking hands and a voice that cracked several times. All Phoebe wanted to do was go home.

Phoebe got home to find her roommates boyfriend loading up furniture into a moving van with three other young men. Three young white men with hair that stuck straight up in the air, all three with tight shirts and white shoes, it almost appeared to be a uniform. Clinton, the Doberman Pincher that Flavius, had bought for his fiancée, Monica was barking in the back of a racing Honda with fins on the back, lowered and outfitted with neon blue lights around the bottom of the car.
“Yo man, that fucking dog fucks my fucking shit up, Imma shoot it in the fucking head. I take pride in my shit, yo. You should just leave that fucking dog here. You gave her the fucking dog, let her ass take it. I would take the fucking X-Box and leave the bitch ass dog.”
Flavius yelled into the open window at the dog that gnawed on the slightly open glass in an effort to bite Flavius. Flavius then turned to his friend who was worried about his car and threatened to kick his ass. The third guy was rapping along with a song as he blasted the music to the point of rattling windows in the apartment complex.
“Motherfucker… Turn down the music. One of these old ass bitches gonna call the po-lice. Help me get the couch out this place and we gone… Clinton! Shut the fuck up!”
Phoebe and Monica arrived at work which was called Ye Olde Skokie Ale House. Monica’s eyes were bloodshot and mascara had dripped down to her pink tank top. Rubin, the bar manager who wore a Hawaiian shirt and shorts with calf high white socks and sandals, was visibly upset that Monica looked unfit to work the floor. The Chicago Bulls were in the playoffs and the entire bar would be filled with overweight patrons looking to eat chicken wings and drink too much beer.
“I don’t like to ask you girls too much bout your private lives but what the hell happened? I can’t have you working here tonight looking like a bloodhound. Go to the washroom, wash your face and put some eye drops in your eyes… Tonight is gonna be the biggest night since the Superbowl,” said Rubin.
Phoebe explained that Monica and her fiancé called off the wedding and so all the furniture they bought together was collected and taken to garage belonging to the boyfriend’s parents. Clinton the Doberman was on a leash barking in the backyard of the former beau’s parent’s house. Rubin called his friend Calabrese whose six foot Chinese wife was the bartender at The Ale House. Fu came from Beijing and was a mail order bride belonging to a 5 ‘5 Italian cop with a thick black moustache and hair all over his body. Calabrese chewed his gum obnoxiously; thumbs in his belt line while he listened to Monica tell her story. Calabrese winked at his tall wife who could only really serve beer since she didn’t understand English very well. Fu was tall and pretty. Calabrese wrote down a number of things on a pad of paper, took the palm of his hand and rubbed his face before asking Monica if she wanted to press charges. Monica didn’t understand, Calabrese became impatient.
“If he stole your stuff, it’s theft. If it’s theft he goes to jail and his momma posts bond…”
“Well, all I want is Clinton back. He will be so nervous. He one time ate all the stuffing to a comforter and I had to take him to the vet to get it removed. He did this because I left him alone for a day. I just know he’s freaking right now.”
Monica and Phoebe pulled it together and served close to a hundred people over the course of eight hours. People ordered pizza, fries, wings, shots, beer as they watched very large men lope up and down on a basketball court for forty eight minutes. The poker king came in took his seat at his table and challenged anyone to beat him. He wore a cowboy hat and aviator glasses. The poker king had just lost on television at 4am in Las Vegas two weeks earlier. He was a transitory celebrity for those that deemed card playing a sport. Joe, the cook from a neighboring bar, ordered a sixteen ounce steak with seasoned fries and fell asleep at the table as his food was served. Marjorie, who lost her job, was playing pool with a guy named Ted who was married but said he was single. The more they drank, the more Ted was going to take Marjorie to Europe and Australia. He ordered Marjorie Fosters and spoke in a really bad Australian accent.
Phoebe’s final customer every night was a professor of philosophy from Northwestern. Phil drove a twenty year old Honda Civic with a bumper sticker that said Nixon-Agnew 1972, which illustrated his dry sense of humor.
“The usual, Phil?”
“If I were to change one thing in my daily routine, I may ruin the balance we have on this planet. This world that spins at 1,450 kilometers an hour might wobble just enough to cause all sorts of issues of gravity. We naively believe our problems have been solved by the killing of one man who is responsible for us having to face the indignity of being groped and frisked at airports all across this land and yet it isn’t clear who has won Dancing with the Stars, just as it isn’t clear who the stars actually are. Change at this point in time might be detrimental, dear Phoebe. Here you are scurrying about like an ant on an ant hill, serving those seeking a momentary diversion from their mundane existence by numbing themselves through legal means so that they can face their drab home life and their unfulfilling occupations and nary a man would guess that the optically pleasing Phoebe tried to teach those that we will one day entrust to carry on our human legacy. Might I ask how you fared today?”
Phoebe thought about lying to Phil who looked down at everyone and everything, who hated life and had nothing but disdain for anything seeking order. Phil was a nihilist, atheist, anarchist and misogynist who constantly over analyzed the simplest things and then ridiculed them.
“I think I reached them, Phil… I think the kids have a basic understanding of what a covalent bond might be now and in some small way, I feel as though I may have taught somebody something. Hopefully one day when the students are old enough to drink at a bar, they can dazzle someone they hope to sleep with, with the knowledge that they learned today from me,” said Phoebe.
“You can only hope that the electricity leads to a stable bond,” joked Phil, as he swirled his ice cubes in his empty glass.
“One more Scotch, Phil?”
“One more Scotch, dear Phoebe, and then I shall sleep like an infant.”
Phil jotted down some words on a napkin as a heavy set young lady with pig tails sang an ABBA tune in front of the Juke Box while her boyfriend in a Cubs jersey hugged her from behind. Phil smiled and shook his head. Phoebe was petting Clinton with Monica and the Mexican chefs in the kitchen. Calabrese had proudly delivered the dog to the bar before closing. Phil left a 100% tip for Phoebe and a message on paper napkin before climbing into his ancient Honda. This is what it said:

“The very first
Of human life must spring from woman’s breast,
Your first small words are taught you from her lips,
Your first tears quench’d by her, and your last sighs
Too often breathed out in a woman’s hearing,
When men have shrunk from the ignoble care
Of watching the last hour of him who led them.”

Dwight Eisenhower Ilescu

January 25, 2010

Now as the phone was ringing, Mort was watching a live broadcast of a fire happening at a building that he managed that was owned by his boss, Steven Swartz. On the phone was the janitor to the building by the name Dwight Eisenhower Ilescu.

“Boss, you gotta to come down here right now… It’s terrible… I toll you last week that we gotta to fix the electricity… Come on, I toll you.”

Dwight almost was given a name that was hard for Americans to say and so his parents chose the name Dwight. It was during World War II that General Dwight D. Eisenhower, came to the small Romanian village that Dwight’s parents were from. Dwight Eisenhower stopped with his entourage to have a cup of tea at an insignificant little café that was frequented by nobody but locals. Dwight’s father ordered his wife to find their cousin who was a wedding photographer when he wasn’t fixing cars and made him stop what he was doing so that he could have a photograph with the famous general. Up on the wall of that café was a mural sized photograph of Dwight’s father with his left arm around Eisenhower and his right hand shaking hands with the future president. The picture remains to this day.

Dwight’s father offered the general a pastry and a cup of coffee. Eisenhower finished neither. To this day in a Sub Zero freezer in Chicago, is the cup of coffee with coffee still in it and a pastry with one bite out of it forever frozen in time. Dwight Eisenhower Ilescu, made it on national television twice. Once was to have chemists test the frozen products to ensure the validity of the claim. The DNA matched. Dwight D. Eisenhower in fact drank from the cup and took a bite of the pastry. For this reason Dwight has always voted Republican. He voted for Ronald Reagan in 1984 after becoming a naturalized citizen.

Dwight was a dichotomy of sorts. He hated Jews but realized that the key to his success rested in getting along and depending on them and working for them. His hate stemmed from the fact that the Jews all seemed to find a way to really make good money without working quite as hard. Steven Swartz, who owned the building that Dwight worked and lived in, never acknowledged Dwight even though Dwight fixed Steven’s plumbing at his house for free twice. Both times it took his entire day off which was Sunday and Steven never even said thank you. Steven did throw a bonus in his checks but Dwight wanted more than anything to have a handshake and a pat on the back. If the supreme general of the European theater during World War II could wait twenty minutes in a café to have a mechanic take a photograph with a nobody in Romania, surely the president of a small company could take the time from barking at someone on his Bluetooth, to thank the man who made it possible to have his shit flow again down stream. Into the abyss.