The Adventure starts again..NO, this is not another script for a BATMAN MOVIE.....but the adventure of MAURY in Europe.....Co staring BENNO BREUKERS, formerly of down town Amsterdam......with whom i have been doing business for over a decade...Starting on that infamous day 9/11, when business all over the world started its decline......especially antique dealer......we only had sent one container...WHY....business declined, the auctions, died, lack of money, and styles of what people changed. They no longer want the Dutch and Eastern European Furniture......mosty stripped pine, or ARMOIES , carved furniture....and so much of what used to sell......
Benno closed his store, before i closed my Clifton store....and the Paterson Warehouse. He had started selling oak used furniture to the rich on the SPANISH Riviera in MARBELLA Spain...with his brothers...but the slimy Moroccan and Spanish dealers screwed him every chance they got....and he finally gave up....He is a very honest man, and couldn't play the games...they played in the true MID EASTERN STYLE.......Benno went back to Amsterdam....and then four months ago bought some property, in HUNGARY. He has been here with a few workers rebuilding the houses....which are incredible bargains, and very quaint.....to put it mildly...And even though their primitive nature....i love it...and will think to buy a few also......
I am in a town called HOMOKONNICO...OR SOMETING LIKE THAT...... and even thought the name of the town starts with a homo......there is no GAY BAR......Not even a gas station.....there is a general store and a bar...each only open 2 hours a day....and 6 houses....which make up the downtown...The rest is an "area" not a town.as soon as you make a turn at the BAR.....and.....store (both owned by the same guy....the road no longer exists...We drove over roads, as primitive as covered wagons....that went from NYC to California....the only difference is the danger....no danger from INDIANS.....but drunk Hungarians....who drive on this mega pothole filled "path" that is dirt...with a little grass growing down the middle of it, like a Mohawk green haircut......Driving here might be safer at night...because of all the turns and twists and potholes...so if another car is coming around the bend...you will be notified in advance by the headlights..as long as they remembered to turn them on..which is not necessarily the case. Benno said they are often really wiped out on wine, whiskey and home made PALINKA....a clear,vodka looking drink...that is like the American ALCOHOL that the hillbillies in Kentucky and Tennessee make......one or two drinks and you are hallucinating.....the difference, is that PALINKA.....has a good taste'
This is truly an adventure....we are two miles off the nearest paved road....and it would be some type of maze, if i had to get out of here myself without a Sherpa guide, or a Saint Bernard...with a Barrel of Palinka under his chin....Not only is the road unpaved, and filled with craters from asteroids from distant Star Systems.....but the road is narrow... HOW NARROW..I have no idea what would happen in some parts if two cars arrived at the same time. The road is about. as wide as a small car, assuming that at least one of the drivers was sober, they would back up. and try to find an area, so the other car cold pass...if should be a truck..... they would have to wait until the local government widens the road.....Or both drivers would get out of the car....either have a fist fight...or just pull out a bottle of Palinka and start toasting each other.....
This house, as most of the other houses in this area....the hills and mountains of HUNGARY.....about 18 miles from the AUstrian, Croatian, and Slovenian borders..are all summer homes built buy middle to upper class COMMUNISTS after ww2.. The workers of certain status...were given a hectacre of land(not sure what size that is) and many of them built these little houses them selves......primitive, with outhouses...no heating systems,shy of a potbelly stove...that really looks like a robot ...without a head..made of embossed iron..with a little door...a little drawer to let in air and catch ashes...and up on 4 simple iron legs....it is placed in a hole in the wall that separates two of the three rooms. and heats the place up well......Benno didn't like the outhouse that much, so he had his workers install a shower in the kitchen....and a toilet bowl....Yes in the kitchen, because that is where the plumbing is.... and their seemed to be more room their than in the living room or bedroom...If you are eating dinner...the only problem is that if one has to go to the bathroom....everyone would have to get up and go into the living room and close the door....to prevent instantaneous nausea......If they didn't leave the kitchen and someone decided to sit one the throne, the ensuing scene..would be something from a MEL BROOKS MOVIE...people munching a large turkey leg, others drinking wine out of a long stemmed glass,, other eating with the fork...or munching on a piece of bread....while the farts flew...and the fumes overcame the company......could be a very hysterical scenario......you would find the people fainting....getting sick, swooning.......and looking horrified....or the opposite........they continue to eat as if nothing unusual was going on.....Thei conversation might be very intellectual.....pausing once or twice..when a loud burst.....came forth from the bowl area...and one of the refined women would say....I am sorry I didn't hear that.......about the sound of the faRT...would you repeat please.....
I have lost track of time....I havent been in HUngary since Susan and Franks BABY my GOD DAIGHTER...was a month or two old.....and the last timeI was in Amsterdam with Benno was several yeas before that.....but....although I put on weight, and Bennos hair is much thinner and now all silver grey.....our relationship, our timing, our sense of humor hadn't missed a beat.. We were laughing with the same fervor as ever...and on the very same wavelength.
I have been complaining about my memory for a few years now.....can't remember where i put that pen down....or the cup of coffee...or an important paper......minutes after having them...but when we started talking....my memory suddenly reappeared....as if i was a cell phone, with almost no more charge.....and then out of know where....my batteries were charges and everything became clear.. I remember people, places...and even pieces of furniture..in detail from ten years ago....I remembered someone that I saw in Brussels on a Street corner.....briefly...at a red light.....that I would have loved to meet......I remembered things we ate in various cities... and laughs that we had a decade ago. This laughter....and...friendship recharged my depleted batteries......as we walked about reinventing the importing business...refine what we buy.....now to the taste of the next generation.....the children of the generation past...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment