Hansel and Gretel, Part II

Hansel and I were both relieved once we procured the proper trout for Friday's dinner and the correct eggs for Saturday's fruhstuck. Later over dinner both he and Gretel were very appreciative and unusually expansive with Hansel offering, "Gretel you know is a Krupp."





"Really! THE Krupps? The armaments, the conscripted labor...?"

"Yah," Hansel continued, "you know Alfried Krupp was made Wehrwirtschaftfuhrer early in the war."

"I am sure he was an unusual man. But Gretel, how was it being a Krupp during the war?"





Gretel replied, "Well, it was very difficult during the war for all of us, you know, and of course especially for Hansel."









"How so?"





"You knew of course he is survivor of Sachsenhausen."





"What? No, no.... we had no idea." I turned quickly to Hansel, "Sachsenhausen! I'm so sorry Hansel...I mean, thank god you survived but how did..."





Gretel explained, "He was a German Jew just like all those German Jews before World War II who saw themselves as Germans first and Jews second. In fact Hansel still is first a German and to this day he can not imagine why he was put in a prison camp." Noting our surprise, Gretel continued, "Yes, yes, you can see. He is such a decent man but he can be so naive."





We wanted more details on this astounding revelation but Hansel quickly diverted the conversation to Gretel's unscrupulous agent. We learned that she was to have a meeting with him early Monday morning and but was terribly afraid of his taking advantage of her. Leaning across the table Hansel asked, "V and Charles, what do you think? You can see Gretel is with her agent like a lamb asking advice from the butcher."





They were both lively and interesting and as the evening wore on, clearly indefatigable. Around 3 a.m. they were still going strong while we on the other hand were spent. Our Wobenzyme reserves depleted, we just couldn't go any further so we wished them "guten nacht" and dragged ourselves to bed.





We awoke with a start at daybreak Sunday. Somebody was yelling, "Gut morgan! What a beautiful day and we start Fruhstock mit ei und toast, yah?" Oy, it was indeed Hansel. V jumped out of bed and ran to the stove with his eggs but he was right behind admonishing her, "No, no, meine Schatz, we don't have scrambled eggs. Eggs we do hartgekochten, hard boiled, yah?"





"All right, Hansel. Hard boiled it is," she sighed.





Over the corrected breakfast our symposium began anew. Our guest speakers were often flattering with remarks like Hansel's, "You must do your reading early in the day while you are still fresh and then you do your painting," as if our amateurs' efforts were somehow comparable to their professional expertise.





Whenever we appeared to be fading during these marathon conversations, one of them would re-engage using the socratic method with something like, "Why so you suppose Masaccio's 'Expulsion fromo Paradise' hasn't gotten as much acclaim as Michelangelo's?" Or, "You know of course how Bach discovered the concerti of Vivaldi and Corelli when he was serving as the court organist for the duke of Wiemar. You can tell see the lyricism and elegance of the Brandenburg Concerto did not just come out of nowhere."

At the dinner table with Gretel sitting beside me I couldn't help noticing once again her manifest charms, especially those invoked by what my Irish friend might refer to as "the twins." I thought "formidable indeed and what a commendable feat of engineering it must have been to hold them in place so securely. Was Wonderbra possibly using re-bar these days?" During a lull in the conversation I caught myself humming the Commodores' "She's a brick....house....built like a amazon. She's mighty mighty, lettin' it all...." Well, anyway, a good thing Hansel has all this energy, especially late into the evening.



By midnight of the second night we could go no further. We ran up the white flag and collapsed into our bed.





Early the next morning V. scurried into the kitchen with Hansel in hot pursuit. When she pulled out the egg carton he frowned, "No Liebling, I am so sorry but never we have hard boiled eggs two days in a row! So, you don't mind this morning we have bagels and cafe mit schlag. That's right. So good of you, my dear."





"OK," she thought, "only one more day of this. I can do it." She dutifully put the eggs back in the fridge.





"Such an accomodating good hostess. We are all having such a good time that we must visit often and today right after breakfast we read together the Sunday paper and discuss, yah?"





To be continued.

Hansel and Gretel, Part I

Dedicated to my dear mother-in-law.

Hansel* and Gretel* were artists in their late sixties and friends of V's parents. We had never met them so we didn't know what to expect at the opening night of their first West coast show late on a Friday afternoon.

The gallery was packed but we spotted Gretel immediately. Like the colossal cacti in her paintings she towered over the aficionados gathered about her. A striking woman with bangs and champagne tresses tumbling over her ample chest she was a natural for a Wagnerian walk-on at the Met. A little accessorizing would do it--- some chain mail with spear and shield accents along with a horned helmet to top it off. And....wait.... wasn't that "The Ride of the Valkyries" playing in the background?

She was explaining her abiding interest in cacti. These were not your little Cholla cacti or your measly Prickly Pears but rather giant Saguaros. Giant tumescent Saguaros which were indeed "catch eye" as our friend from Taiwan would say. They were so remarkable we wondered if they were in some way a response to Georgia O'Keefe's signature works featuring certain aspects of the female anatomy. I thought of the lush purple morning glory by O'Keefe hanging in our doctor's office beside his anatomical chart of the lymphatic system. So detailed in depicting the portal to the female re-productive system is this flower that it no doubt is quite helpful during OBGYN consultations. Ms. O'Keefe of course famously took issue with the persistent observation that she was painting vaginas. We wondered what Gretel would say about her Saguaros.

She was obviously quite engaged with her prospective buyers so we moved on to Hansel's gallery where he was holding forth with a gaggle of admirers. He was Tom Wolfe with a German accent, tiny and trim by Valkyrie standards, with a thatch of white hair resting on his wire rim glasses. Behind him hung large paintings of pastoral scenes--- lush Constable woodlands, Wyeth red barns, van Ruisdael grey skies. In contrast to Gretel's work, his style was purely representational and ran little risk of provoking Freudian analysis.


He seemed pleased when we introduced ourselves and praised his compositions. We then returned to Gretel where during a brief pause in her commentary we squeezed in a quick greetin, "Excuse us, Gretel? We are V and..."

"Oh, V and Chahles, I am so happy to meet you! But just look at all these people! This is so crazy I just don't have time right now. So let's have dinner tonight when this thing is over!"

V and I glanced at each other, "So good to meet you too, Gretel. We've heard so much about you and Hansel from V's parents. About dinner, reservations on a Friday night....we haven't really.....ah....is Hansel...?"

"Of course, he comes too. See you at six o'clock tonight at your house. Just give him the address."

"Well I suppose we..."

"Right, darlings! Wiedersehen!" She was quite captivating so we had little choice.

With no time to spare, we dashed back to Hansel, slipped our address into his pocket, bid a hasty adieu and sped home to prepare a meal.

At precisely 6 o'clock a black Jaguar pulled up in front of the house. First the trunk popped open, then Gretel emerged waving frantically followed by Hansel who scrambled back to the trunk where he began tugging at three huge Samsonite bags, "Hallo, Chahles, you take these, I get the other."

V and I again looked at each other, astonished, "Well, yes, hello Hansel. I guess we didn't quite realize..."

"Yah, you just show me our bedroom. We manage."

Still dazed, I muttered something in very broken German about how kleine the guest Schlafzimmer was.

He immediately unleashed of torrent of Hoch Deutsche, assuming I guess that his hosts would of course understand German. I understood a couple of words, something like "drei Nachten" and "Mittegessen." Was that THREE nights? Overwhelmed, I quickly abandoned the German practicum but couldn't even summon a response in English.

Moments later they emerged from the little guest room rubbing their hands, "So Lieblings, what shall we have for dinner?"

"I thought I would just run up to the store, to get some wild salmon and..."


Hansel, suddenly alarmed, jumped in, "No, no. No salmon! TROUT, Chahles, and for breakfast we have eggs and toast! I come with you."

Ah, this man had clear preferences indeed. I suddenly realized I wasn't up to the task of handling this task singlehandedly. I needed a professional trout and egg wrangler, someone properly schooled in trout selection who had an eye for eggs as well. In fact I was for the first time in my life intimidated just thinking about purchasing eggs for this man. What if I bought white and he wanted brown? He'd want his eggs from cage-free mothers, but would they they need to be vegetarians? And what size, medium, large or extra large? After a moment's reflection I replied, "Of course, Hansel, come along."

To be continued.

*Pseudonym

Wobenzyme

You probably think La Paz is a good place for scuba diving, deep sea fishing and apprehending Tijuana drug kingpin El Teo. And you'd be right. The capital of Baja Sur is also where you'd be heading if you wanted to come face to face with a rare 35-foot long monster oar fish like the one that surprised the gringo diver several years ago.


But you may not realize that La Paz is also a choice travel destination for those seeking unsolicited advice on drugs. Not illegal drugs so much as homeopathic drugs.



Homeopathic drugs like Wobenzyme which was designed in Germany in the 1960's. And who better to tell you about it in La Paz than a robust white haired fellow traveler from Stuttgart. V* and I came across Werner* and his wife Greta* unexpectedly in the hallway of the hotel.



"Hallo! Wie gehts! Vat brings you to Mexico?"



"Oh, a little exploring, snorkeling, kayaking. How about you?



"Ach, gut place to exercise. Exercise is gut. Look at me! Hey! How old you think I am?"



"Well, Werner, you are probably older than you look. And you look very healthy."



"Yah, wery healthy. Wery. But how old?"



"Oh, maybe sixty-five."



"Hah! Sixty-five, he says, Greta! You are wery kind, Charles. But yust look!!"



And with this he grabbed V who is about a foot taller than he is, lifted her off her feet and twirled her around in circles much to V's surprise and Greta's delight.



"Ah yah, he does this with all the pretty young girls," she giggled, only slightly embarrassed.



He then put V down with a flourish and yelled, "I am eighty-one! Vel, vat you think of dat! Hey? You vant to be able to do dat, yah? Und she loved it, didn't you dahling? Zo, vat you tink?"



"Um, very surprising.... Werner, your strength, I mean."



"No, not zo surprising! Not ven you take WOBENZYME! Dat's right, FOWVAY-O-B-E-N-Z-Y-M-E! It's German! You will be zo-o-o strong ven you are taking dis Wobenzyme."



"Well, thanks, Werner. That was a very convincing demonstration. I think you can tell we are both sold on the idea."



"Dat's yust vonderful! Take it every day and you'll be zo heppy you did. Zo heppy to meet you und haff a vonderful life!"



So we did start taking Wobenzyme and as a consequence I have become much better at grabbing unsuspecting younger women and twirling them around my head.

*pseudonym

Thanks, Melinda Blau!

We are very grateful to Melinda Blau, coauthor of Consequential Strangers, The Baby Whisperer Solves All Your Problems and other books for her kind comment which follows:

"I don't know who you are CHARLES HOW COULD YOU, but I love your voice and your story about Esther. It is a wonderful example of Consequential Strangers. I go to Florida every winter and I have a gaggle of Esthers whom I love. Zelda is 98 and still counting. Still plays tennis. I adore her! Thanks for spreading the word about CS. Wish I knew more about you, though and why you decided to blog.
Melinda Blau, coauthor, Consequential Strangers"

Gigante Herman

At Club Nokia this week PEE WEE Herman is HUGE.

A sold out crowd of beaming fans jump to their feet to give him a roaring ovation as he steps out onto the stage. IT'S PEE WEE, he hasn't changed! Same skinny little guy in a buzz cut, undersized grey suit, bow tie and white loafers. His fans erupt again in another riotous outburst as he asks them to follow him in the pledge of allegiance. Still more thunderous applause as the curtain parts to reveal the beloved set from a generation ago. It's Pee Wee's Playhouse, the way we remember it! It's all there--Chairry, the jigsaw puzzle red vinyl door, the bent yellow window frame, the singing flowers, the wild pastel and neon colors.


Whoa! The crowd screams with delight as each of their favorites joins Pee Wee. First Cowboy Curtis-- played originally by Lawrence Fishburne --- then Miss Yvonne, Jambi and all the familiar puppets big and small like Chairry, Pterri and Globey. It's a rollicking family reunion with a few stand-ins for those who couldn't make it. Mailman Mike has replaced Reba the Mail Lady and several new characters take a bow, foremost among them being the boricua- dancing electrician Sergio. Sadly, the Captain Carl character-- is noticeably absent--most likely in honor of the late Phil Hartman who played him originally.

There are vintage Pee Wee lines ("I know you are but what am I"), patented Pee Wee moves (his Tequila dance), along with contemporary references.

For the mostly 30-and 40-something Pee Wee fans it is a night rich in nostalgia, hilarity and elation.

Of course V and I would not have attended something like this. Especially not when SPIKE is showing re-runs every night this week of last year's Brock Lesnar-Randy Couture cage match.

Smell the Gardenias

"See something beautiful every day."
       ---my great grandmother

"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture and, if it be possible, speak a few reasonable words."
       ---Goethe

"Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight."
     ---KC & the Sunshine Band

Consequential Strangers

We are grateful for the encouraging responses to the blog including this one in response to the first blog, "Esther":



"Delightful exchange. Have you read Consequential Strangers about the significance of those we meet in our everyday life? Your charming conversation with Esther is a prime example of people connecting to people simply because they make the effort."



Much appreciated.

Consesequential Strangers: the Power of People Who Don't Seem to Matter by Melinda Blau was deemed "one of the 15 Best Shareable Books of 2009" and rates 4 stars on Amazon.

Obit of the Week

Paraphrased from the LA Times Obituaries, January 12, 2010



Shahen V. Ghazarbekian, 1932-2009.



Born in Meshad, Iran, to Vartan and his metzmamma, Satenik Ghazarbekian. Emigrated to the U.S. in 1958 where he earned a BS in Physics and then moved to LA where as an inventor and entrepreneur he designed environmentally efficient industrial air conditioning equipment.



A loving husband and father, he was devoted to his 5 grandchildren who knew him as "Gump." A consummate entertainer, he was always ready with songs, jokes and stories for them and taught them the virtues optimism, working hard and having fun.



Among his passions was travel. Every year for over 40 years he explored some exotic corner of the world.



He will be missed by his traveling companions who include his good friend since childhood, Bahman Bozogmehr, his business partner Vazgen Baladjian, his children, his grandchildren and his siblings: Sahak Ghazarbekian, Seboo Hovanessian and Roubik Avenessian.