Mazăre, Constantin, Postelnicu

(Atenție pentru cei care traduc cu Google Translate. Am încercat chiar acum și deși majoritatea frazelor sunt traduse foarte bine, unele, în mod inexplicabil, comparativ cu celelalte, sunt complet greșite).

Voi scrie această postare progresiv, deci voi adăuga mereu ce îmi amintesc sau ce materiale mai găsesc. Am mai scris pe acestă temă pe fb sau g+ care s-a închis. Să încep cu o poză care eu cred că este a lui Nicușor Constantin (Constantin din Constanța). 2 Mai 2014. În acea perioadă el se afla într-adevăr în SUA. Poza este făcută din apartament printre jaluzele, tipul avea bărbiță, este greu de spus. În acea perioadă în apartamentul de dedesubt locuiau diverse persoane (sau numai se arătau), îmbrăcați aproximativ la fel, cu aceeași mașină încercând destul de rudimentar să pară aceeași persoană. În mod similar se întâmplă și aici cu apartamentul de deasupra.

Dar a mai fost un tip la 6 ianuarie același an, care a mers la scara vecină

La apartamentul 5 (lângă cel de dedesubt) era un tip care semăna cu "jurnalistul britanic" mort în Florida, Andrei Postelnicu. Andrei Postelnicu era din Constanța și era nepotul "profesorului" nostru de cineclub de la Casa Pionierilor din Câmpulung, Ferdinand Mikitovici. Numai că el la rândul lui semăna mult cu Roman Polanski (până aici e destul de simplu, să vedeți ce mai urmează).

Mai era la Școala Generală Nr.1 dar la altă clasă o învățătoare care semăna cu... Sharon Tate, fosta soție a lui Polanski care a fost declarată ucisă de extremiști de dreapta din SUA.

Nu știu dacă a fost el, dar în fiecare zi, pentru câteva ore bune se auzea pe deasupra un avion care mă înnebunea. Tot un Piper ca cel în care a zburat ultima dată în Florida. O tipă care poza în prietena lui care am identificat-o recent ca Samantha Fish, o cântâreață de blues.

În acel apartament am fost afumat ani de zile. La propriu, la scara vecină erau șemineuri la nivele mai de jos iar coșurile treceau prin pereți. Probabil unul din ele era spart și fumul intra în pereți și ajungea la noi. Pereții (partea de ghips s-au făcut maro). La un moment dat am acoperit niște găuri mari în debaraua de haine din dormitor și baie și a devenit mai suportabil. Când m-am mutat aici în Tualatin și am avut mașină de spălat în apartament (înainte spălam rufele acolo într-un apartament amenajat ca spălătorie, cu fise), am spălat totul de mai multe ori și timp de un an toate hainele încă au mirosit a fum. Fumul avea și o componentă care mă făcea high tot timpul. Dacă asta se poate numi tortură? Dar cred că se poate numi lejer tortură.

Apartamentele erau numerotate pe două scări, din stânga jos începea 1, 2 iar 3 și 4 erau la scara vecină, apoi iar 5, 6 la noi. La 1 nu stătea nimeni, la 2 un ninja, la 3 veneau tot felul de invitați, la 4 nu știu, la 5 o studentă dislexică iar după ea Postelnicu cu Samantha, la 9 la început a fost o tipă care semăna cu Lindsay Lohan iar după cu Kelly Clarkson. Fotografie din 1 August 2013.

Tipa de la 9, 6 iunie 2014

Aceeași? tipă de la 9, în 25 august 2013

Pe 25 Octombrie 2012 (Ziua fostului rege Mihai I) am avut tot așa (cum au fost ultimele încercări, începând din 10 mai anul acesta) un accident. În ziua aceea era mai mult fum ca în ultimii ani cât am stat acolo. Spre seară am mai băut și două pahare de vin (care totuși, datorită diurezei, îmi făcea bine, căci se mai eliminau chestiile din fum, cel mai probabil marijuana, cocaină sau amfetamină). Mi-a venit așa o idee și am pornit într-o plimbare cu camioneta de vreo 20 mile până în estul Portlandului, să văd dacă nu e cineva la biserică (Sfânta Maria, Stark St.). La a doua intersecție am oprit dar cam departe și am pornit din nou să văd mai bine cum vine traficul din stânga. Un tip într-o mașină Nissan Z, care sunt mașini foarte grele și puternice (imită Porsche-ele) cu un șasiu masiv cu bare profil curbate a pornit de pe loc și a intrat din spate în bara mea de protecție. Camioneta la fel, nu ca mașinile, are șasiu masiv din bare profil. M-a mutat un metru înainte deși aveam piciorul pe frână și mi-a cam scuturat gâtul și mandibula. Am avut ceva dureri 2 săptămâni dar nimic altceva. Imediat ca din senin a apărut și un martor care normal îi lua apărarea celuilalt. Mi-au sărit luminile de la număr și atât. Nu am chemat poliția fiindcă eram băut. Am fost la poliție câteva zile după, mi s-a dat un număr de caz și asta a fost. Tipul părea musulman asiatic. Cred că a vrut să mă împingă puțin înainte în intersecție ca să mă ia o mașină care venea cu viteză din stânga.

În același loc, în 14 februarie 2014 era să mai am un accident (bine, faze mai simple sunt practic în fiecare zi și de mai multe ori pe zi, cele mai multe ori opriri neașteptate ale traficului din față în timp ce pe trotuar apar tot felul de distrageri). Un Cadillac negru cu luminile din față modificate (mașini foarte grele, până la 2,3 tone), care abia se vedeau a venit din stânga. Tot așa eram high, de la fumul din pereți și mai aveam și camera mică în mâna dreaptă, nu mai știu de ce (pe atunci o AGFA de 14 MP și 70 de dolari, o cameră foarte interesantă, defuncta marcă germană AGFA, made in China bineînțeles dar foarte bună) și l-am urmărit și l-am prins la un semafor. 

Pe 9 noiembrie 2014 am scris o postare care se numește Tehnoton. Acea postare conține ideea că în liceu am fost înr-o clasă specială, în liceul Tehnoton din Iași, perioadă care s-a suprapus în mare cu prezența lui Iliescu la Iași. Acea postare conține ideea că am fost coleg cu multe persoane, foste staruri dar și staruri în devenire. Acea postare conține și unele greșeli, nu sunt toți identificați corect, precum și unele dubii la alții.

...va continua...
(dar probabil nu aș termina niciodată, au fost sute de faze care s-au întâmplat numai în perioada aceea, februarie 2010, septembrie 2015, din cauza timpului și fazelor zilnice curente pe care tot așa le selectez foarte mult).

Constanța

2 mai 2014 în Eagle Crest, Lake Oswego. A fost asta ziua când Antonia a fost deportată din SUA, după ce am sunat ca un tâmpit pe 1 mai la Ambasadă și cred că în schimb a răspuns ea? Nu, aia a fost în 2013. Era un tip un vecin jos în apartamentul de dedesubt care pare că seamănă cu Adrian Gambuteanu, asociat cu Nicușor Constantinescu. Nicușor Constantinescu în perioada aia era prin SUA. Nu știu dacă fost atunci perioada când au dat drumul încontinuu la ventilatorul din baie. Poate zic ei au fost bine intenționați adică să tragă fumul din perete care venea de la apartamentul 7. Vrăjeală zic eu. Dacă vroiau să facă ceva puteau să facă o mie de chestii care să-i coste mult mai puțin. Fum tot venea în schimb ventilatorul era defect, vibra și scutura pereții și tavanul la mine și atunci a fost cred perioada când m-am îmbolnăvit de pancreatită. Ventilatorul ăla a mers cam până în jur de Crăciun 2014. Deci a fost mai dinainte fiindcă a mers cred vreo doi ani sau pe toată perioada când a locuit cineva acolo. Mai înainte apartamentul de dedesubt a fost vacant timp de doi ani începând din 2010 când m-am mutat. (fotografia de mai jos a fost făcută printre două lamele de la jaluzele).

8 februarie 2014. A nins. Am ieșit pe afară să fac niște poze. Pe stradă m-am întâlnit cu tipul de la 5, apartamentul de lângă 6, cel de dedesubt. Numerele începeau 1-2 stânga dreapta jos, 5-6 deasupra lor, 9-10 mai sus iar eu stăteam la 10. Îl văzusem foarte puțin înainte. O dată sau de două ori. Deși m-am întâlnit odată cu el și nevastă-sa pe un traseu de drumeție. Aveau doi câini mari și negri, rasa Newfoundland. Am undeva pozele cu câinii, ei s-au ferit însă din calea camerei. Pleca undeva, avea ochelari portocalii de schi și când a trecut pe lângă mine a tras de creanga unui copac și a stârnit ceva zăpadă. Mai în spatele lui era un tip care arăta ca un japonez și avea ceva ca un toiag în mână. Cu vreo câteva zile mai înainte am văzut la apartamentul de dedesubt adică la 6 o sabie de ninja la ușă. Nu știu în acel apartament s-au perindat mulți deși umblau toți îmbrăcați la fel și aveau aceeași mașină.

La o zi două am văzut o știre cu un tip Postelnicu din Constanța care a murit cu un avion undeva la sud de Florida. Cel din poză. Tipul era născut Câmpulung și era de fapt nepotul lui Mikitovici, profesorul meu de la Cineclub. Cu care am mers prin munți și am făcut filmulețe în care am apărut și eu. Mikitovici însă semăna perfect cu Polanski. Când era mic l-am văzut într-un cărucior. Avea un defect din naștere, palma dreaptă despicată ceva în genul salutului vulcanilor din Star Trek. La școala generală era o învățătoare care semăna perfect cu Sharon Tate. Să fie tipa din poză, mama lui Postenicu din Constanța fiica lui Polanski și Tate?

Până atunci cât am stat în Lake Oswego în afară de avioanele de linii care circulau pe deasupra auzeam tot timpul un avion mic făcând un zgomot infernal pe deasupra. Ore pe zi. Adresa din Lake Oswego era chiar pe un vulcan stins. Printre puținele vulcane din lume cuprinse într-un oraș. Mount... Sylvania, înălțime 298 de metri. Eu am locuit la 47 Eagle Crest. Vulcanii au un rol important în Scientologie.

Astăzi. Am fost la o plimbare pe o alee lângă Tualatin City Community Center în Tualatin, Oregon. Acolo am văzut niște ciudățenii inclusiv un tip cu o camionetă care-și trăgea pe el niște pantaloni verzi de vizibilitate peste hainele normale. Părea să fie actorul Sebastian Stan născut în Constanța. Mai erau și alte camionete pe acolo precum și o furgonetă-aspirator pentru curățat covoare cu abur.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1bDylpHd7qpR8n26bM7e6a1a3pkU_gJuF/view?usp=sharing

Ce bine seamănă însă Sebastian Stan cu românul care e acum în pușcărie pentru că a șantajat-o pe angajatoarea lui milionară!

McNeeley Real Estate

Name says a lot. For many years i used to believe it has something to do with kneels. Makes you kneel that is. I know one guy there. Mark Hessel. And there was another woman i spoke with in the agency, short, fat, looking Japanese.

 
In January 2010 we've been kicked from Sussex. There was a guy there Kaleb whom i knew only by seeing him and seeing his name on the mailbox.

At Sussex there was an episode that just came to mind. The 2002 Seattle earthquake. There was a handyman scheduled exactly at that time in the apartment. He went outside to pick something from his Volvo, i went to the door to see what he's doing. Then the earthquake started, a series of ample movement, i stood in the door frame when i heard somebody running on the roof. I looked at the handyman while he was staring the roof.

There was a broken pipe in the wall in there that got never fixed. Every time i was opening the water at the bathroom sink, a pipe was moving in the wall. Probably leaking in the wall and making mold.

While i was there at first i was not aware of the mineral insulation problem. After, or when when i realized the attic was full with loose mineral insulation, i taped the lid to the attic so it won't fall down at least through there.

There was this guy with a red Toyota Supra i guess who looked like a South American drug dealer who was showing from time to time, pretending living there. La Tuta i guess.

Christine McVie, Carole King acting like managers. John Winquist, owner of Regent, the management company i think is a now Hungarian top politician.

Across the street, BNC. A church that looks like an UFO.

And Tom Cruise, the mechanic.

That's all about Sussex, here and now.

So we've been looking for a place to move. Actually applied in two different places. One Saturday in February they called us from Sunflower Apts, i believe we were approved there too but for some reason i can't explain right now none of us wanted to answer the phone. Monday (hopefully i will come with the date, it think it was February 2010) i had appointment with Mark from McNeeley, i went at the apartment in Lake Oswego and signed the papers. As we climbed in the truck to go in Lake Oswego they called us again from Sunflower and told us we were approved but i already made my mind. I was moving to Lake Oswego. Rent was about similar but location, one of the best in Portland area. Not knowing it was actually on the top of an extinct volcano.

Don't know what was wrong with me in that day. I didn't feel the terrible stink in there. Maybe because window was open. Maybe i was hypnotized (to us, Mark appeared like he had severe strabismus (not seen in the picture above). All i saw was the view, the pool (which Mark told us wasn't "ours", the apartment was the only one rented in the building, the others were individually owned condos). The place was a dump. I will select some pictures. The pan of the fridge filled with some sort of glue that resulted from combination of asphalt and silica from roof shingles. Hardwood floor was stinking so bad from being contaminated with that stuff and food that i had to cover it with shelf liners.

The rusty, leaking toilet, discoloration of the vynil.

Everything was leaking under the kitchen sink

And the endless hole.

There are many other things to be said about that place before i start getting to the reason for this post. But before, a word about Apt.9 or next door. There were a couple of celebrities that were showing as Anna, the young single neighbor. One of them was Kelly Clarkson.

And the guy at Apt.2 (two levels down) who looked like Jinichi Kawakami posing for a young single guy who was never cleaning and smoking the stinkiest cigarettes (natural tobaco, not treated for burning faster like most brands). There i found out for the first time of the existence of ninja dojos in the US.

The woman who lived at nr.6 (right under) left after one week (came back at times). I forgot where she said she was moving. The apartment was vacated for a long time, more that a year. Then the short old man with the green van moved in. He lived there for about 6 months. On June 6 2011 i took this picture.
And this one on July 2nd the same year.

I think he left in September that year. That was after they poured asphalt on street. Because the day after he dragged me into a short conversation.

What was about him. As you can see from the first picture he was handling some high tech tools. Sometimes at night i head what i though him was chiseling, maybe the walls.

After him i remember Christina Minnis moving in there. Found the name on a site that gives you names of neighbors and googled and found this.

She was wanted in Texas for some minor offenses and she found shelter here. However, she was living in that dump with a guy (i forgot his name now), black, who was working for a British company, somewhere in Downtown Portland.

She found a job here in Portland at David Killer Bread. I remember the day when Dave Dahl, the owner, was arrested. A few days later they started the bathroom fan downstairs and was on until December 2014.

They had a dog probably she dog, probably sick cause it was actually crying every they after they left in the morning.

Story is much longer. To make it short, today i figured the purpose for that fan to be on for so long was to pump in the floor (or their ceiling) and into our apartment the same stuff they pump in here for more than a year now or since i heard upstairs the same chiseling sound, December 2019 and then i heard the dog making the same crying sound as the one down stairs more than 6 years ago. That is litter dust. When those neighbors moved in spring, i saw the woman carrying a small dog in a pouch at her chest, like a baby. Both dogs were probably sick, probably infected with some parasite that eliminates in the feces and ended up in the dust that gets in here, that gives me the same symptoms and probably.

This summer upstairs moved a woman who looked like a Japanese actress. They also had a dog and they had a portable AC in the kitchen area vibrating the walls and floors and allowing litter dust to get into the walls and from there in here. The current neighbor does not have a dog but a cat and uses only one "in wall" heater, in the dining area or about the same area where the AC was and for that reason (the others are off) it runs a lot, that also vibrates, in about the same area.

Last night i covered more holes and cracks in the laundry closet area because after cleaning for many days it started to stink after i used the washer and drier yesterday which shook the walls and more stuff came in. But i believe somebody was in here last night and took out of the sealed bag an old injector (forgotten from Nissan) that today started to stink to mask the hole story.

Both stinking places are responsible for creating and maintaining my diabetes.

The woman at Apt.9 driving a blue Jeep reminds me now of Christa Jacobson. After her in that apartment moved in a guy who resembled Andrei Postelnicu whom i saw last time the day before he went missing in Florida. In the spring of 2014 i believe Bill Cosby moved in there.

The apartment nr.7, next wall, slightly below, had a chimney. I believe this is where the smoke came from. When i moved in here the smoke didn't get out of our clothes until i washed them at least 5 times each. I believe in there at times was a woman from Hungary, Nora Gorbe.

I once called Lake Oswego Police. The guy who came, Sergeant Sparkle, was looking exactly like the President of Hungary, János Áder.

One more thing. The more i look at Jim McNeeley's face the more i think he looks like the old man who moved lately at Sussex in the apartment under. I don't know, it's been more than ten years. I think it was around 2007 when he came. He parked some sort of old RV vehicle and had it parked there for a long time. Then he got an old car. Lately he put a blanket in kitchen's window and i think he was not airing and cleaning a lot and the whole place started to stink.

To be continued (having a break).

What is Your Name?

I first fell in love when i was 5 i guess. She was standing with her aunt across the Street, at number 235 where i was living in the west area of Câmpulung. I remember she had thin legs and cute face with dark hair and blue eyes. German name, her father was a bus driver. I was always riding next to the driver in front of the bus and even before i was in school i knew what clutch and brakes are. They were 3 buses in town doing rounds every 20 minutes. Couldn't keep my eyes off of what drivers where doing. (My mother said i was riding the side of my cradle figuring a motorcycle imitating my father.) Figuring i was shifting gears, and especially hitting the gas pedal. But that is a different story. I was once at around 5 in a big milk cistern at a cooling station taking a ride back home from some relatives in the "country side" (they didn't have self refrigerating cisterns back then, don't know if they have them now). Country side Câmpulung itself is nothing but a 14 km or more (hence the name LOL) with farms and three industrial companies built by the communists including the milk powder factory across the street with the small airport finished by the Swiss in 1960, the year i was born. So i was alone in the cabin, the cistern started to move by itself backwards like on a slight grade and i knew i should have pressed the brakes, the pedal in middle but i was afraid of what the driver was going to say. And here he came running and stopped the cistern. Then i told him. Should i have pressed the brakes? And he made some big eyes towards me.

(But that big mustache on that always smiling round face of her father could have been Hungarian as well. Who would know back then when there was nothing like the internet today. She ended in Germany anyways, i saw her years later in a vacation driving around with a local guy in in a gold Datsun. I even got to talk to her and all i could ask her was about judo, if they had training places in Germany and she said she was actually going to some and i got literally blocked by her answer. Much shorter story).

I was classmate with her in the third grade at School Nr.3. Cause the other grades i spent in a different school, Nr.1 where i fell in love with a different girl.

I was 7 and it was instant or the first day of school of that September 1967. The area of the courtyard i was in with the boys, and she was in the area with the girls. Cause we instinctively separated.  I remember the blue color of  her uniform matching perfectly that of her eyes or the sky that day. (But i do have a separate memory of a  perfect September without her probably in the 4th grade when i came back from School Nr.3. All the kids with flowers in the first day of School, of many colors under a bright blue sky and a nice temperature.)

Don't tell me it's not possible. I was telling that myself for a long time and it's not true, i'm 56 now and there is no point in hiding. From myself or from others.

I remember all the other kids and i don't remember any of them being in that state. What was wrong with them? It was my only highlight of every day, for years or the happy part and reason of going to school.

I believe i was in the 5th or 6th when she fell ill with pneumonia. Another classmate was dragging me to her place "to keep her updated" with lessons and stuff. Those days they brought at school for us some white baldrics and we were wearing them over the dark blue uniforms figuring police-like agents guarding or guiding the smaller kids in traffic i don't know it seems crazy right now. In the third or fourth day i went in there i remember she looked very red at the face, talking slowly, could have been faked, i don't know, her mother came early from work and put her a thermometer and asked us what we were doing there and then we left.

I once met with her accidentally again in 5 or 6 while we both went to see a movie, an old movie something with ice-skating. We sat next to each other and i kept telling her i believe the ice is covered with water cause it was shining to uniformly. She was wearing a light blue nylon jacket. In the class we all had skates and where skating in the winter, at a different school where they could maintain a small rink on a basketball field i guess in open air with nice mercury lamps at corners.

Don't know how we got to talk this but i remember what she said.

In that summer just she told me literally "she would prefer to be friends with anybody else including the school's gypsy than me" (don't want to name the guy but she named him). In front of so many kids i never dared to talk to her alone ever again. And even if i did, after many years, i just could never find the right words.

Or the long hours spent at Cine-club, the after school kids club. Or other activities. Was i in the fourth grade when we went together with my mother, two instructors, others at a film festival for children in Sibiu, the town where Nicu Ceaușescu was in charge years after. Then and there in an evening we danced (I call it in my mind first and last dance with Mary-Jane cause that's whose her name or close).

Cause at the end if 5th i was sent to Hamburg, Germany for three weeks. I wrote about it in a post linked below. We also might have appeared together in short films or pictures who knows. Was it before when i was playing the accordion with the instructor and other kids from our school and other school in a small traditional orchestra when she told me some words of appreciation to which i never could answer. Why am i writing all these. It's not a very pleasant story and some might find details matching their own. Pretty sad all these i guess.

And the teacher at school. I believe she tried to hook us up right after i came from Germany. One summer afternoon she called us at school just me and her and some kids again from the "country side" and we played the kissing game, the one two kids stand back to back and turn their heads and if the direction matches they kiss but i missed. Later she told me she tried to tip me with her elbow but i didn't realize.

Also in summers we would go hiking in the mountains nearby with her, i remember one particular occasion in the 4th grade when after cooking a meal at a fire we separated, most kids went one direction, me and the teacher and two other girls from a different class in other, me carrying the tent that was pretty heavy, maybe 20 pounds and not feeling tired or even high.

Here come some interesting facts. Starting around 6th grade we had as math, drawing and class master teacher a woman who looked like Elizabeth Taylor. Among many other things, a Dame of the British Empire who might even not be dead cause i thought i saw her years after in a parking lot at Fred Meyer in Beaverton a couple o years ago. 8 March on 7th grade. Some kid at school came with the idea girls must be sprinkled with perfume. So all boys bought some cheap cologne and started sprinkling the girls. Can't remember exactly what happened but i remember feeling dizzy or high when i got home that day. One spring they were many (European) cockchafers. So many we could just pick them from the new asphalt side-walk near the furniture and milk powder factories as they were hitting again the newly installed mercury vapor lights. I gather a jar of them, can't remember what happened i think i fed them to the chickens in the yard.

They were some other kids in the area from other schools. Some of them kept telling me about the "dust of cantharidae" and its properties. I think i might have repeated it in front of others at school.

One early spring (we had a snow fight and built a snowman) some of the class went to a colleague, her bench-mate (we sat by two), early years a boy and a girl chosen by the teacher, later by our own choice, boy and boy and girl and girl. I just remembered in the first years she sat with a boy whose father i came recently to realize it resembled Kurt Waldheim, ex-president of Austria and Secretary of UN. So we went to that birthday party and all ate some cake. Don't know if it was the same spring when we sprinkled cologne on girls. Or the same (7th grade) when the boys all went to some brand new metal shop in a brand new Silviculture (specialty) High School and learned how to and built a compass and a square out of 5 mm sheet metal (real, functional, in three weeks). But i remember i was in hospital with hepatitis, probably in the spring of same 7th grade when i found out both parents of that birthday girl, her bench-mate, died in a fire while trying to seal their basement with hot asphalt.

I remember that teacher resembling Liz Taylor, Mme Șuhani (pronounced shoo-hunny) during drawing classes she would walk silent (during math classes she would always read from a big book and in those years Liz made an(other) horrible movie in Italy so we know at least she was there and probably learned some basic Italian which is closest related to Romanian in pronunciation, lexis and grammar. So she would walk and stop particularly near a bench when one of the kids with some drawing skills was drawing more interesting stuff than all the others. Years later i saw the same drawing style in the video-clip of the band AHA, Take On Me, together with an identical looking girl, together with here mother, the one serving at that coffee shop.

(My father had a motorcycle, a 350 cc Czechoslovakia made Jawa, red and he would let me ride it at the airport, near the milk factory, for hours, while he was fishing in the river nearby, since i was 10).

Was in that year of the 7th grade when she would come to school looking really sick and tired, with big brown bags under her eyes?

Years later, after High School, i went one evening with many of the old class mate in her house, a duplex, where she had her own room upstairs. We were all waiting the results of the admission test in faculties. Got mine the next day after a drive with my father at Iași.

But it was at the end of grade school my friend and neighbor told me he was at her place upstairs at nights though i did not believe him.

Right at the end of the 7th grade we were all three alone in the class. Her, me and our colleague Ilie Ceapă. His name means onion in Romanian but it was a Jewish-Hungarian name, Csapo i guess now. He was about the same size, height and weight, both kinda big for our age, almost like adults. We had more than one fight but that day he took a piece of wood from a bench, pretty heavy and tried to hit me in the head, in front of her. I raised my hand and defended myself with the price of a bump on my arm.

Several years later i saw him in a vacation from High School in down-town Câmpulung. He was looking yellow-green in color and showed us a big scar across his belly from recent liver surgery. They were whispering he has beaten by the (communist alright) Police while he was trying to still from the market place for his drinks. He said he cannot drink anymore but weeks or month later i heard he died after trying to have one more shot at a pub (though he was still minor). Her sister came and asked me to take some pictures at the funeral, my grandpa died earlier and he was the photographer of that remote area of town and i went and shut a couple of films, many pictures, and my neighbor and friend pulled one of the films with most pictures out of a camera and destroyed it and i got only a few left which i think i have her.

I remember at the end of the eighth grade a teacher asked us where we wanna go for high school. She said at the Informatics in Cluj and i wanted a professional 3 years school for learning a trade at the closest (telephony) professional school. Then the teacher went mad and told me if me the second best in grades after her would go to a professional school then who would go to a High School, and convinced me in an authoritative phrase like allays then to go to a specialty High School and i chose to go to Iași and the only reason was i wanted to get separated from her cause i could not stand her not paying any attention to me ever.

She went at Cluj and i went at Iași and she didn't take the admission test because she missed a sign in a formula and i did (barely).

I met with her again me in the first year in faculty at Iași, me at Mechanics and her in the second at Computers. Again i got blocked and could not talk anything meaningful to her. Was then when i saw posters put by other students with John Lennon's death. Now i realize she might just have been there for a short scene. A couple more accidental encounters during faculty. Could it be she was not there at all.

1990, the year after revolution. After trying to do what i thought was leading the CAD department at IMU i left as i realized there was no future in doing that in Romania. I went at my wife's company in the IT department so i could do programming which i came to love in accounting and payroll. But there there was again someone who might have been her. I only once had a vague feeling but i was sure she was working in a different city in Romania, in fact i once called her on the phone and talked to her, briefly (first thing i did after i first installed a phone, with much interventions, and that was before 89). But now i remember going to at least one party and at least one time at her place when i met her boyfriend who was looking exactly like the guy from the video AHA, though her not, anymore.

2008. Could it have been her at the entrance of Greenway Park in Beaverton, as sister of Cristina, Angela's friend and ex co-worker, the one who look like Maia Morgenstern? Looking kinda old, she had a compassionate look for Angela and nothing, or barely hidden hate for me.

Around the same year i started to do my first nostalgic searches on the web. I found her as webmaster of a web site of a military aviation school in Romania, where supposedly Nicu Ceaușescu took his flight training. Later i found out the commander of that flight school died with many others including his girlfriend in a crash trying to take of carrying paratroopers in an overloaded AN2 plane during a show. (Days earlier i saw a plane of that type during a trip on Columbia river, before a 4th of July). A big and very slow one engine plane you could not have missed flying over Columbia, i found about the next day in the news what it was.

In the picture first or second grade, me at the left of the teacher with white collar, her at the teacher's right shoulder. The guy who might have been Kurt Waldheim's son first row at the left. The guy who did the drawings who inspired that clip, second from right, smiling. Could the teacher herself might have been Claudia Cardinale. My friend and neighbor, third from left upper, could he be now Mircea Baniciu. Ilie Ceapă could be third from right upper row. I think this picture was done by my adopting grandfather.

Original building of the school. The last 2 or 3 grades we moved to a different building acrross the then new spinning mill down the street. The School name is after his then principal Teodor Darie, who looked much like the Austrian actor Karlheinz Böhm. New building and old available to see on google maps.

Me in that glorious September with flowers and blue sky when starting 4th grade looking a bit confused after having to move back from School Nr.3 to 1.

The house we moved back from downtown. Totally different fence, siding and roofing, the annexes have been rebuilt and there are more in the back. https://goo.gl/maps/UMmF8Vufhqn Also her house, about 1.2 km east from where i lived. The room upstairs with the open window https://goo.gl/maps/UDNjuJvGEgk

The girl whose parents might have died in that fire at the left. This picture have been done by the guy who looked like Polanski.

The success story of Bunty Bailey. (Bounty of Bela (sau de belea pe românește)).

And the follow ups. Is that the AKAI boombox they brought at one of those parties in 1990?


https://www.google.com/search?q=czechoslovakia+jawa+350+red

http://georgesblogforfriends.blogspot.com/2012/07/c-i-s-v.html

http://georgesblogforfriends.blogspot.com/2014/06/polanski-tate-postelnicu.html

http://georgesblogforfriends.blogspot.com/2012/06/bette-davis-eyes.html

https://www.google.com/search?q=aha+video&source=lnms&tbm=isch

http://georgesblogforfriends.blogspot.com/2013/04/manafu-si-chinezu.html

http://georgesblogforfriends.blogspot.com/2014/10/tehnoton.html

https://www.google.com/search?q=bunty+bailey+90s&source=lnms&tbm=isch

https://www.google.com/search?q=constanta+parasutisti+an2+morti+comandant+boboc

And the first reaction from KGW8 (not KG8W), less than 24 hours. Sorry for the quality of the picture, it was the last seconds of her time slice when i took it and the camera and i was not prepared.

Polanski, Tate, Postelnicu