Raise me up, don’t let me fall
‘Cause I don’t get myself
I feel like I felt before
But cannot find my way
I am terrified with what is going on in the States right now. Black Lives Matter. Every life matters, as a matter of fact. I really treat everybody with respect. So far I have only met some … hmmm … weird behavior from Black people in Manhattan. And i was so surprised. I thought in 21st century everybody knew everybody was equal. Apparently some people still had some issues or complexes. Well. It is their problems, not mine. I like people no matter the colour. I only do not like stupid people. But in this case colour of your skin has nothing to do with it.
I talk to my dear friend Michael on a regular basis. He has just moved from Golden State to Windy Town. That is a hell of a good reason to visit Chicago for the first time now. He has the same initials as divine Marylin Monroe. He is going to be successful too! He just need to have an affair with the president (hahahahaha. Is Trump a new JFK? Another “hahahaha”). And yesterday we talked about lives of different groups of people. His, mine, Native Americans’, Afro-Americans’. Yes, we do not have any idea of what non-white people have been thru. Yes, we know it from books, from everyday life, but we have not lived it. It is not our life. It is not in our head or blood. I hope everybody gets respect he or she deserves. But i really do not understand and do not accept the act of vandalism and looting the stores. People protest demanding law and justice? So, obey the law. Do not steal, do not plunder stores. However, i hope it is going to be ok soon. The sun will shine again.
And we talked about our lives. We met last year on Instagram. We started talking and we hit off nice and easy. We laugh all the time. We have the same sense of humour although we were born under totally different latitude. I am only 2 years his senior. Therefore, you may think we should have lots in common. Maybe we have. He was brought up in the sunny state. Me – behind the iron curtain. And somehow we found each other in this world. I believe that fortuity rules the world and our lives. I have no idea what his childhood was like. I know he had to struggle with his coming out. So his life was not easy peasy at some point. We need to talk about it. But the time difference is a real pain in the arse. I really would like to learn about his life. Was my childhood worse or better? It does not matter. It is not the case. For sure it was different.
In communism we had some goods rationed. Sugar, meat, flour, car gas, shoes. You could buy only 2 pounds of this and that per month. If you did not have more coupons, you just could not buy. We quickly learned how to contrive. I mean, to be resourceful. I remember curfew during the Martial Law. After 10 pm you were not allowed to be out on the street (of course there were exceptions like going back from work). There was literally nothing in the stores (apart from bug repellents). My and my sister were so surprised when we had bananas and oranges at Christmas. That was a breeze of the Western World, a promised land.
In the late 80s i remember couple of situations.
Chapter 1. The Chicken
A young boy was shouting by the windows of our block of flats – Mom, mom, chickens are in the grocery store!
– go get the line! – mom reacted promptly
In two shakes of a lamb’s tail almost everybody rushed to that store. Few minutes later the same mom was yelling at her little one – you idiot! Those are hens, not chickens.
Well, as far as i was concerned at that time, and i assume that little boy too – potayto, potahto. Apparently mom knew best.
Chapter 2. The Coffee
In small community/neighbourhood gossips always travel fast. So when you heard “coffee is there”, you just knew what u had to do. And in those cases, the bigger family you had, the better. The stores could sell you only 2 packs of that good. So every member of your homestead obediently queued up.
I loved the aroma of the coffee (still do). We had a coffee grinder. I was in charge of turning those little beans into dust. I just could not grasp why those grains were so untasteful. Ewww. That was something inconceivable.
So we stood in those lines until the store was out of the coffee. And it was our routine – standing in the lines for everything. Toilet paper, coffee, chickens. Everything could be an exchangeable good.
TV? oh yeah. We had that. 1 channel only until October 1970. So as far as i remember there were only two programs. And of course colour television in your own home was something special, a symbol of wealth and social prestige. I remember when my dad bought a VCR for $$$. It was Sanyo! I could go and go with my stories from my childhood in communism. For me, the most important thing is that was a happy childhood. I have awesome parents. They are my heroes. Working class heroes. They made little money but i did not feel like i was missing something. And we travelled the whole country during our summer trips!
Who knows Fiat 126p? 4 persons in that little can!
1989 came and we have had a free country ever since. That is what they say. Although current events in Poland may say otherwise. Blame it on the ruling party – Law and Justice. They have nothing to do with law and justice. Poland is not that bad. Come on elections! Vote or die. June 28th let’s pick a new president.