FC EVA WINTERCHAMPION 2006/2007

Youuu'll neeever waaaalk a-loooone....!!!!

Personally, 2006

Good things

-my parents
-knowing Gg
-E, M and J.O standing by me
-Full moon over Brooklyn Bridge
-the removal of my working place to city center
-a few of my articles
-Haarlem/Harlem
-meeting D. (!)

Bad things

-L. leaving me (like that)
-having my back turned to some people I honestly care for
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James Brown... is dead

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James Brown 3-5-'33 / 25-12-'06

Funk reached heaven
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Happy together

drawing by D.A.

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Hey You!

Congrats! Yes, You! Time Magazine has named You ‘Person of the Year 2006’. Yes really, You. Well, and me.… but only when I am You.
Keep being You in 2007. 'Cause You are most welcome on my weblog when You are using the internet.

The Big Orange

click here6
As you might know I was back in New York City a couple of weeks ago. You can read about it on www.teruginnewyork.blogspot.com if you want and if you are able to read Dutch.
When I was there I read Russel Shorto’s New Amsterdam, about the Dutch history of Manhattan. Of course it made me too wonder what would have been if the English would not have taken over in 1664. Either way the new Americans would have gained there independency, I’m sure. But would the US have been a different country had the Dutch stayed longer?

It is, especially when you read Shorto’s book, an interesting question. Shorto for example states that the influence of the first Dutch colonists on what later became known as 'the melting pot’ is by far bigger than the Pilgrims of the Mayflower ever had. Anyway, the Dutch advertising agency PPGH/JWT has started a very funny campaign to get back Manhattan. See the trailer. Or surf to www.giveusbacknewyork.com

Election Time

It’s time to choose, time to make up the mind. Decision time. Do I hold on to what I know, although it hasn’t brought too much joy lately and a lot of tears instead? In the hope for better, a second chance, to make it work this time? In the full believe that it was all there, except for some good fortune? And because I am, in all honesty, simply not the kind of guy to let go - ever?
Or do I choose the new, fresh and young because of the irresistible and joyful simplicity it brings along? A new route, without the fear of what it might lead to? Just to see and undergo? Can I? I mean really?
It is time to choose. By the way, I mustn’t forget to vote this Wednesday. It’s election time, you know.

bedding

Ik sliep in de bedding van je heupen,
door de hemel van je ogen bedekt....

(vrij naar Hans Lodeizen)

Gavin says a lot:

When I look into your sad brown eyes, they whisper,
love's been and gone...
it's the end of the line, we're wasting our time
I kiss you goodbye, now I can't believe I ever said that
I would die for you, your eyes do more than kill...
I want to live.

All's forgiven, so all's forgotten, I'm empty inside,
What I'm trying to say since you went away, I live a lie.
I drink all day I'm never sober just to ease the pain,
These lies do more than kill...

I want to live...
I want to live...

Like a ghost in my head you keep haunting me
Every promise we made, every word you said
I can't live without you!
Baby baby, when lovin' we were hiding
when lying we were brave.
Baby baby, I can't live without you
all I need is you.
I want to live.

('I want to live' - Gavin Friday)

Maria says it all:

I wish you never even loved me
It makes it so hard to live without love now
I know you’re often thinking of me
Sometimes I feel you so close by
That it takes all my might to keep from trying to track you down

I can surely keep you out of sight
Forget about the way you look,
your smile, the way you speak
But I’ve heard in the dead of night
outside my window silence breaking
With the solid destination of your lonesome speed

I know the sound of your Wheels
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I know the sound of your Wheels
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I know the sound of your Wheels

I had a handle on my sorrow
My composure was in order
if not sufficiently intact
But every reminiscent echo
brings a blow to chill my senses
And my heart quakes and tenses
‘til those moments pass

I know the sound of your Wheels
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I know the sound of your Wheels
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I know the sound of your Wheels

Ev’ry trace, ev’ry vision
Brings my emotions to collision
Past love’s lost tokens
Ev’ry cherished thought once spoken
False hope of reconciliation

('Wheels' - Lone Justice)

Uncle Piet

I hardly ever read the obituaries. Last Thursday I did, and there was his name: Piet Ruigrok-van de Werven. In a second I was back in my childhood.
Uncle Piet and his wife An (aunty An) lived a few doors from our house, somewhere in the outskirts of Haarlem. They owned a typical Dutch snack bar: a greasy, wooden trailer where you go to buy a unhealthy portion of fries drowning in mayonnaise. For us kids that and the little candy shop across the street of where our school was were the magnetic spots in our neighborhood.
So off course I was proud to live in the same street as uncle Piet and aunt An. As a little kid their daughters would baby sit me and my brothers and sister, but that is a whole different story.

Piet began his business in the fifties, with a mobile snack bar, as you can see in the picture. He settled somewhere round 1974 I think, at the Belgiëlaan. I remember there was a big party to celebrate 5 years of “Friet van Piet” (Piet’s Fries). We kids got free fries and soda and then we were taken to the movies. And everyone of us wore his blue “Friet van Piet – 5 years”-cap, with pride!
Over the years Piet had his difficulties with the health inspection, I reckon. There was even this saying in Haarlem: ‘Eet friet van Piet en je haalt de 65 niet’ (eat Piet’s fries and don’t reach 65). Well, Piet himself died at the age of 81.

And I'm back!

For those who didn't already know: I'm back in Haarlem (double A). I had a very good time in New York, Harlem (single A), with a lot of thanx to Gg.
I didn't do too much, but it as great to be there. NY is for some reason always kind to me.
It was fun doing my weblog for the paper (www.teruginnewyork.blogspot.com), it was great to see Roger again, it was nice to walk the streets of Manhattan (although I got blisters...), it was cool to see Lach again and see how Megan Reilly was doing. I met Art Spiegelman, that was cool. And it was very special to have my birthday dinner with Gg at Tanti Baci, and I cherish the late lunch we had in a great restaurant on 2nd street, right after I met Gg's friend James De La Vega (photo) - a great artist and very special person.
It was good to be away. I needed that. And NYC was the best place to go.

thank u, Gg

Back to New York

In a few hours KLM will take me back to the city of my heart – New York. For two whole weeks. I am very excited to see Gg and Roger again. And to have my birthday (this Tuesday) there. The weather forecasts are not too good. I’ll have to hope they are wrong.
I’m not sure I will keep you updated from there on this spot, but. I will maintain another weblog on a daily bases. In Dutch that is. Go see it HERE.

Getting clean

I was hurt before, so I’m hopeful. In time I will forget about the actual pain.
I honestly didn’t remember, had no recollection whatsoever of the pure physical pain that can be caused by being left alone.
My back hurts and I can hardly stand up in the morning. My neck and shoulders are killing me whole day long. And when I lay down at night and close my eyes I have this frightening chest ache.
I feel like choking sometimes, purely out of panic. It's when I come across any little detail that reminds me of what was. My stomache contracts and blood runs out of my brain.

Is this the result some sort of addiction? Am I ‘getting clean’? But then, what was my drugs? What is it that I miss so much that I must force myself not to scream my lungs out and bang my head against the wall in the middle of the night?
I’ve been thinking about this.
I miss telling her that I love her. I miss giving my love to her. I miss planning these little things to make her smile. I miss daydreaming about her. I miss sharing the stupidest things with her via text message. I miss her smile. I miss her thoughts. I miss the mirror she so often was to me. I miss her touch, and miss me touching her.

I miss being someone for someone who is so very much that someone for me.
I didn’t remember, so I will forget.

for you

For you
I'll walk to hell and back
to get you a light, that's all
I know how you like to smoke
For you
I'll crawl to heaven
to steel you a little piece of luck
You might need it, honey, no big deal
For you
I'll dig deep inside my heart
to cut away the parts that may be rotten
Just ask me,
let me,
and please just show me where
I'm your's

Keys

Today I found out L. is with another guy. For four weeks already. Another slap in the face. She didn’t even have the guts to tell me in person.
I found out about it because she used to have her bike parked at my place. She lives out of town and it’s hard to get a free parking spot near her work in the city. So two years ago already we decided that she could best park her car here and then take her bike to go to work. Now this whole weekend her car was parked outside my door and her bike was gone. She didn’t go home for three nights.
Little arithmetic….

I felt I had to do something. So I called her to confront her. And I asked her to give me back my keys. I told her her bike could not longer be in my shed. I really don’t want to be her new relationship’s bicycle shed. I can’t. She agreed, off course.
We talked some more. Mainly making mutual reproaches at first, but we managed to end our call with a few nice words.

Hours later, at nine p.m., I picked up her/my keys from my letterbox. As I held them in my hand I felt… empty. And goddamn alone. She. Is. So. Gone.

I am not afraid to say that I cried. In fact, I cried my eyes out. Then I got angry.

When I calmed down I rethought our whole relationship again. As I have done so many times these last weeks. It’s like a puzzle I need to solve before I can go on.
The funny thing is: while I was rethinking I couldn’t help falling in love with her all over again. And I found myself smiling…

I know something good will come out of this. With or without her. It will be a long road. But I cannot betray the love I feel for her.
I know all too well that she can be a fucking bitch sometimes. And yes, she hurts me. But still, then she is my dearest, dearest fucking bitch! And I’ve been hurt before.

I know she touched me. Very deeply. She moves and wonders me. I know we connected in a very, very special way. I know she knows. And in the end, I think, she made me a little better. There’s only so few who will do that, right?
So, no she cannot use my shed anymore, but I cannot expel her from my heart. She’s got her own spot there. No keys required.

Google Earth

Have you not yet got your own copy of Google Earth? Oh, please do get it. It’s amazing.
I can spend hours (well... lots of minutes) traveling around the world in my own virtual satellite. With childish pleasure. I flew from Haarlem to Amsterdam following the railway line. And believe me or not, that was fun!
The other day I visited my friend Gg in East Harlem, NYC. The thrill I got when saw the view of the dead end street she lives in. I even saw a glimpse of her garden!
She must have sensed my little visit. Just a few hours later she sent me the sweetest message. Yes, my dear Gg, I will come to you and NYC. For real.

get your free copy of Google Earth at: http://earth.google.com/

53 years

My parents are married for 53 years. I repeat that sentence out loud a few times. And then again, slowly. 53 years... No, there’s no way my brain is going to comprehend this. It’s beyond what I can understand.
Still I’m glad my parents are the living proof of the possibility for a long during commitment between two people. Oh, I’m sure they will have known their difficulties. But they never ran away from them and stayed pretty happy along the way.
Yes, you probably do sense a certain envy in these words...
I took them to the place where they got married July 16th 1953. City hall in Haarlem. Since my new job a too familiar spot for me.
It’s a historic place. The oldest parts of the building are 14th century. Luckily I know a guy who knows a lot about the history of this house. And fortunately he was prepared to give my parents and me a two hour tour through the building. With highlights as the old clink in the basement. And off course the cellar where you can still see a part of the watercourse of the former river The Beek. Really amazing.
But naturally my parents were just as happy to see those real secrets of that ancient building as to see the press desk in the council chamber at which their son frequently sits...

Doing Something (2)

This Saturday RdB had her birthday party. I still don’t feel like going to parties, but I knew I could not not go to this one. RdB is my “journalistic mom”. And it was her 50th birthday. Besides, I knew her friends had put a lot of effort in throwing her a real nice party and I had let them down by not participate in any of the preparations. I had to go. So I dragged myself to it.
I could have left right after midnight just like I intended. I didn’t. I stayed till 3 a.m. as one of the last guests to leave. I had come on my own, I stayed on my own and left alone. But still I had a good time. Among very nice and friendly people. They sang to RdB, performed sketches, and made her feel special. In a very nice and warm way.

Doing something

“Think about you!” That was the message J.O. gave me. “Go do something!'' I knew he was right, but I couldn’t think of anything that I really wanted to do. Besides, I’m the kind of guy that considers it as some sort of betrayal to set aside this whole ‘L-issue’ just because it would be better for ‘me’. It doesn’t feel right to let go, despite the hurting.
Who taught me this? I don’t know. Maybe I just saw too many of the wrong movies when I was a kid. I was 8 and had a crush on Olivia Newton-John as Sandy. And she sang: 'My heart is saying "Don't let go!" Hold on to the end, that's what I intend to do...', didn't she? So how was and am I to know?

Anyway... I don’t think that I would have come up with any idea on what to do with my Sunday. So luckily there was M. She asked me to join her and two friends on a picnic in the park in Utrecht.
No, I didn’t feel like going. Not at all. But on the other hand I knew that I very much wanted to feel like going. So I went. I went ‘doing something’.
And I’m glad I went. It was good to see M and her friend My-K again. We had great food and nice wine. We talked, made fun, tried to solve a cryptic crossword and had the company of two very silly ducks. I felt free to make a few funny remarks, and it felt good to see it made them laugh. It was very a good day. (I’m sorry, L...)

Time to pick up the pieces, I guess. Love went away, just like that, and I can’t figure out what really happened. I feel alone. I try to think, clear my head, but I’m not doing a very good job. To be honest: I don’t know what was or is real and really true anymore. Nor do I have a clue on what to believe or feel no more. I don’t, I really don't...

My dear L,

I love you, but I wonder
May I?
I’m in love with you, and don’t know
Does that bother you?
My dear L, can I cherish
all my sweet thoughts and words about you
Or must I cross out a few?
And how is that vise versa?
And that I rack my brain over that,
Until we find that chance to talk
May I, does that bother you, or is it just me being silly?
I kiss you dear
I kiss you, hug you, and secretly I hold you tight
But above all, I kiss you
Sleep tight
We’ll be fine, I’m sure

...

New Kid in Town

This little fellow was born last Tuesday. Welcome to the world Syb Peter Robert! That's a lot of names for a little guy like you by the way, but okay...
Syb is the first born of Ro and Danny. Congrats to them!

A sort of homecoming

The Patronaat in Haarlem is one of the finest rock venues in the country. Seven or eight years long it was like a second home to me. I saw a lot of concerts there, professionally and as a fan. And I never felt alone, because whatever concert was going on there would always be someone I knew to share the experience.
Now the strange thing is: as from October – that’s eight months! - I only set foot in the Patronaat once – and that one time wasn’t even to see a show, it was because of some meeting of members of the socialist’s party I had to attend.
Why?
I guess things have changed since I switched jobs and I am no longer a rock journalist but a city hall reporter. I now find my way around politicians instead of musicians. I read bills now instead of listening to new cd’s. Oh, I must say that I do like my new surrounding. It feels good to write about what’s going on in the city. Although I do know that city hall will never feel as familiar as the Patronaat ever did.

Did I have to stop going to that great place? Did not going there for eight months have anything to do with the Patronaat’s new accommodation since September? No. Not at all.
I think I needed to stay away for a little while. I think I was afraid to miss my old job to much.
Anyway, yesterday I was back. I saw a great concert of Calexico and had a lot of fun. It felt good. It felt like a homecoming.

Fair

As every year round this time there is a big fair on the "Grote markt" - the main square of Haarlem. I don't really like fairs. They are noisy and for some reason there is always a lot of aggression among the people that like to hang out at them.
But... from a pleasant distance this fair looks great. Especially at night. Check out http://128.121.162.36/webcam.htm

My butt hurts

Laying floors, carrying cupboards, cleaning: it’s all a bit different then what I do for a living. I can’t say I didn’t have fun these last two days. And I’m actually proud of the laminate floor that I installed in L.’s bedroom. But I must confess: MY BUTT HURTS.
Muscular ache that is. You don’t get that too much as a writer. Maybe I should do this more often – working round the house.
Although really, carrying heavy furniture is not for me. I love L., but she can’t expect me to climb down a bendy staircase with a sofa in one hand and refrigerator in the other. I’m just not build for that.
I know there are guys like that. There were two of them wednesdaynight and, yes, they did carry all L.’s heavy stuff down the stairs.
But I installed the laminate floor! And my butt aches!

Goodbye

june pointer, '55 - '06

A lot about the dying this week
First, this Sunday, it was novelist Gerard Reve who died - although that was no real surprise. He was old and very ill. In fact there was really nothing to be sad about. It was his time. Reve had never feared his death. A good part of his live – as from his fourty’s - he had actually lived towards that final day. He wrote about that glorious day, imagening how his beloved God – Reve was gay AND very religious – would finally call on him. Still, even Reve couldn’t have dreamt that his funeral would be on Easter Saturday. He will be pleased with that. So, no reason for any sadness. We’ve still got the books, right?

Then Tuesday, that was the day to burry J.O.’s mom. I’ve never met her, so guess I wasn’t there for her nor for me, but for J.O. Who did very okay, by the way. His girlfriend was with him as were his two little children. The other day J.O. had told me how his little son (he is about 6) reacted on his grandmothers death: ,,We best spend a lot of time together with grandpa, daddy. So he won’t be so alone.’’
It was the first time I saw J.O.’s father. He was standing in front of his wife’s grave, while the minister was talking about whatever ministers are talking about at such occasions. I could only see the back of his head and a glimpse of the red rose he held in his hand. In front of him was this white coffin - the coffin that contained the lifeless body of the woman that he had shared most of his life with and whom he, without any doubt, had loved so very much. What could this man possibly be thinking at this very moment, I asked myself. I didn't find an answer. He looked fragile and very strong at the same time.
After the ceremony everybody left to have a drink together in some restaurant that I had never been. Since I was the only one who had come by bike, I had to find the way to it on my own. I never found the place. Drove around for an hour and then gave up. I hope John was okay. I hope he was with his father and with his little son.

Wednesday. The nine o’clock news told me June Pointer had died. “What?!! O My God!” No, it wasn’t because I was such a big fan of the Pointer Sisters or what. Okay, I was in my so called ‘Wonderyears’ when they had their biggest hits, so there are memories enough, but that was not the reason for my reaction on June’s death. It was the thought of my friend Gg in New York. She had known June, and much more than that. I knew how special June was to her. Poor Gg.
I’m glad I got her on the phone later that evening, to tell her that there was someone thinking of her. Death by itself is lonely enough, isn’t it?

Painting the chairs

Finally I got the see L.’s new home. She (and me, in a way...) is going to move to another part of the building. Did I tell you she’s living in a former psychiatric hospital?(!) The place has got huge rooms. Her current bedroom for example is only a few inches smaller than my whole appartment, which has three rooms and a bathroom and is really not something to pity me for.
Anyway, she’s moving from the loft to the second floor. Which has: an enormous kitchen (she didn’t have that upstairs), an enormous livingroom with large windows, a bathroom of her own (didn’t have that), a large bedroom (in which she can finally install her kingsize waterbed!!!), a spare bedroom, and a hallway. In one word: Great!
The place badly needs a clean-up though. And we need to paint.
Saturdaynight, after L. finished working, at about 4:30 in the morning, we headed to her place and I got a tour. Our plan was to do some cleaning and painting the next morning. But, eh, we never got to that. All excited about the new place we opened a bottle of wine and drank it, opened a botlle of port and drank it, and talked and talked and got all cuddly until we finally fell asleep at... 12.30 PM.
I don’t know what time we got up again. I do know that when we did, we both suffered from, well, a bit of a headache. So much for Sunday.
Monday though was working day. I installed new locks on the door, we cleaned a bit and we painted the new kitchen chairs! This place has a real good feel.
Unfortunately I had to leave for home that night because of work next day. I got back by bus. Before going home I stepped by at my Favourite Bar where I found Peter who was just finishing celebrating his birthday. He wasn’t too sober anymore. We drank a couple of last ones and then I went for my bed.

Politics & crackers

Politics is like theatre. The show must go on!

It’s been a while since I updated. That was partly because of major computer problems. My compu is still not working half as good as it should, but at least I seem to have regained some sort of connection to the (virtual) world! I hope to solve the rest of the problems in a couple of weeks.
Furthermore, I have been very busy these last few weeks in my job as cityhall reporter. It was election time, as you may know. I had great fun by the way. As if circus was in town!
These days I spend most of my time following the coalition talks. It will be weeks before this city has a new government. So the fun continues.

Meanwhile, as a New York-lover I was excited to read about the discovery of thousands of crackers (!) inside the foundations of the Brooklyn Bridge. The crackers were found during reconstruction works. Nobody knew they were there, and city officials still can’t really explain why they were there and for whom they were meant. Apparently the crackers were part of some sort of Cold War supply stock.
The New York Times claims to know they taste ‘bitter’. I, as a Dutchman, say: Try them with cheese!!!

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/03/26/nyregion/26shelter.html

Happy Birthday, Lennaert

Today we celebrate the birthday of one of the nicest lyricists I know. Lennaert Nijgh. It was a privilige to have known him. A dear friend. Cheers to you Lennaert. I'll meet you later today as we come and visit your place of rest in Heemstede. Love to you.

Year of the Dog

A new year has begun. Let's make something of it, okay?
As from January 26 it will be the year of the Dog - that's though enough.