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| It's Father's day. Everyone feels wounded, where ever you are, what ever you
do: Drunken dumb devils! Some strange energy pushes my body on the road, to cross the Germany in another grand voyage from Munich, near the Alpes, to Hannover, near the North Sea. The solid Diesel engine of the quick, red Volkswagen calms my nerves down in the heated up cosy car. The dark voice of Leonard Cohen from his new CD ''Dear Heather'' fascinates from the sound system with several speakers. The wheels whistle with the wind in high speed. The car computer counts these drive data: - Munich - Dortmund, - 609 Kilometers, - four hours, 55 minutes, - average speed: 124 Kilometres per hour, - average Diesel consumption: 7,8 Liter / 100 km The pupils soak firmly the grey asphalt band. One eye watches the road behind me in the mirrors, the other eye fixates an invisible line before me and the other cars, left behind on my right side. |
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Few miles away from this scene the situation changes completely. Birds and butterflies dance and jubilee through the sunny day. The calm hum of an huge Diesel engine navigates a big loaded boat on the river Main. Cars seldom pass slowly by. My little bike in the rear trunk is to
fold out. With this bike I drive downwards the river Main and visit the next little town: Homburg. There you stand on the castle hill, from where you admire the river Main and the splendid May green flowering world.
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Next stop is my goal for the night, the industrial town Dortmund. My brother, a hard working hero, teaches children more than 20 years. He lives so happy with the same wife more than 20 year, so happy with their two grown up boys, who search
work so happy. My brother demonstrates proudly his garden with the growing trees, costly bought with increasing value each year.
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| My brother is so happy on his sail
boat, his holiday home on summer week ends. My brother cares lovingly for my 84 years old mother, who lives in Dortmund too. And he cares for his family's cars, the house, motor bikes,
his hobbies like photography and his Reggae music band and many things more. My brother is an accepted master of this superior conversation, who doesn't share any quarrels in reality but only nice imaginations about how and what he and others want to see and feel. My nasty provocations call these imaginations: ''slime lickers in paradise''. In ''slime licker paradise'' friendly people flatter each other, what people accept and expect. Out of politeness these people never touch any subject, that creates controversy. Similar my brother is able to listen in silence to my most provocative bad moods and judgments, but deep inside he disagrees completely. |
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Because of my treatment in a psychiatric clinic 35 years ago these so called normal people smile a bit baffled about my ranting and whisper with most friendly caring voices, that soon a new clinic treatment for my disturbed mind would be the best. The best for these friendly people is mostly the worst for others. |
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| My brother Ulrich can't stop working, otherwise he loses money. Money is most important, to hold up the life style of our noble family. Even if the doctors would have to cut off half part of his stomach, my beloved brother would feel as the most smart and important master of his happiness. Our oldest half brother - beside the one, who has killed himself at his tender age of 23 years - has lost by surgery a part of his bowel, destroyed by malicious cancer. Even this accidental sickness was of great advantage for his early retirement. Because he is approved as 80 percent handicapped man, he can enjoy few years earlier retirement without any lost of money. That's, what is very important in our family tradition. By this useful tradition my old father has saved much money till his death. So my old mother still has more than enough money, to enjoy her old days most of her time in little hotels on the country side, a few steps beside a salt water swimming pool. There she exercises daily and cares for her health in the warm temperate salty water, a speciality of this little village Bad Laer. |
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| Deep down their is much mistrust in my heart, that our family's Millionaire tradition roots in honest work. This mistrust pollutes all activities with people around - even towards my own brother. My brother e.g. mistrusts deeply the employees of my mother's bank
account. These guys could steel money from my mother, and my mistrust suspects, that my poor brother steels money for himself from her, to help his starving family. Doesn't he has to life down under his pretended happiness in deep despair and Angst, to loose his wealth and health in stomach surgery? These my mistrusting doubts my brother tries to destroy with self praising advertisings like: ''I have a big and generous heart''! I guess, he believes his words best. In this friendly way he assures: ''After my honest help for our old mother in her bank account, you can drive her to her holiday hotel. I need to get some rest on my sail yacht.'' His words make me happy, to meet finally my old mother. So I clean my car, to drive my mother in a noble atmosphere. But after one hour my brother rings me up and tells me shortly: ''I drive mother now to her holiday hotel. Will you wait for me please? I'm back in around three hours only.'' Now I feel mostly disturbed in my destroyed expectations, get angry out of my senses and leave my brother's house in this my worst mood since long. |
One hour drive from Dortmund is the beautiful University and Bishop town Muenster, where we lived with our family from 1954 to 1960. |
| We are happy to meet, and start breakfast with red wine. My lovely brother rings up my cell phone and joins this meeting. He reports, that our mother has money enough in the bank account. Gold pieces are stored their too. My mother asks the bank employer, to give her all the money, to take with in her handbag. My brother convinces my old mother, that 10 per cent of her money are more than enough for her next holiday months. She listens to him and follows his advice. Back to my friend Harald. Harald has not worked for any company since around 30 years. He writes songs, gives piano lessons in private, dives in hundred of books. Happy he drinks daily several bottles wine or beer, and cultivates some long time female relationships. Harald lives quite comfortable from government money, written in a weird way: Harald lives from the taxes, hard working people have to pay. Harald is very proud, to use his time and energy for himself, to develop his little artful skills. In this way he pretends to show up as honoured wise authority for friends, youngsters and everyone, who accepts his rehearsal. Since nearly three years he lives a nice niece, the daughter of his sister, a 20 years younger lady with two children. The happiness is slightly disturbed, because her little sister got AIDS from heroin abuse at her age of 15 years only. Meanwhile as young mother in her flowering youth of 22 years, mother and child balance life with the necessary amount of drugs like beer, wine, tobacco with or without marihuana and other delicious enrichments to ease the pain of daily sorrows. Harald has three or four children too. His oldest sun, 30 years, can't work anymore, so this young man lives early retired and hopefully happy from government money too. Harald has not much contact with this young man the last years. |
Only the youngest daughter of his woman now is not willing or able in her tender age of 14 years, to suffer in daily school lessons.
Or the child can't follow parental discipline, to come home at night. |
 My old aunt; 82 years
My old aunt, younger sister of my mother, lives not far away from Harald
and close to my mother's holiday hotel. I visit the old lady, who has
written a short story, when she was a refugee. She had to leave
Marienwerder east of Danzig January 1945, when the Russians bomb explosions came closer and closer. |
 My Mother: 84 years
So these old sisters care for their health in the salty water of the little village Bad Laer. |
| We share a bottle of red wine at night. I entertain us with my drunken fantasies, I could call
''delirious talks''. In the morning hour I write this little voyage report till 8.00 a.m. and leave Laleela and her Tamagotchi boy. Both still sleep in silence. Walking with my night luggage back to my car, I ring up Mimamai and tell her laughing: "Mima, I just escaped the claws of the spider woman.'' Both we laugh. On the road again, quick moves me the red car, happy I am. This Tamagotchi's day is relaxing with good food and many hours rest in the sauna bath Bad Brueckenau. There stands my bath tub in the open air, filled with healthy hot mineral water. After seven hours relaxed rest I go on the road again through the thick traffic jam. A short tea break in Nuremberg with my daughter and her friend I finally reach home happy before midnight. |
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