*** Friday, 02 May 2003 ***
All my possession were packed and shipped yesterday, from 9 AM to 1 PM. It was professionally done but left me alone with almost no furniture - just like my first days in Chicago nine years ago this month.

My life is now in 75 boxes plus twelve shipped to Bananas. Floating in a mid-Atlantic ether with a tenuous anchor in a red-leather dominated apartment in Bucharest.

From now on I will do my shopping there and measure all distances from there.

*** Saturday, 03 May 2002 ***
Leave Chicago for Bucharest.

What a boring day! I went to Arnold's for a going away breakfast. It was better than usual because they changed the way they make the hash browns and they tasted a lot better. Expecting the worst of the airline food I would face, I carbo-loaded and got three eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage, and buttered toast. I ate almost everything. It left a pleasantly full sensation in my stomach.

After that I had four hours to kill so I finished picking up my nearly empty apartment, dragged my huge, heavy bag to the entrance where I said goodbye to Lafayette, my favorite doorman, for the last time. The cab came immediately and I was soon on my way to Al Italia at O'Hare.

So much time had I that I walked the entire length of Terminal 5 backwards and forwards. Then I sat down and had a beer.

The flight to Milan was boring but not intolerable as I managed to pass out for several hours of the 8:20 minute flying time. The layover was only 90 minutes and I was on a plane to Bucharest where I passed through various stages of consciousness and lack thereof.

In Bucharest I had a long wait for my bag but the driver found me and I was in my apartment before long. Now the effort to stay awake long enough to fight the 7 hours of jet-lag.

The weather had completely changed in the 8 days I had been gone. Spring had exploded and melted into Summer in stunning speed: Thursday it reached 25 C (78 F) for the first time but Friday and Saturday had been 35C (95 F). Fortunately, today the temps were back at 25 and the skies were sunny so it was a pleasure to be outside.

At last, the air is truly balmy. You enjoy feeling it move across your skin, each little breeze delighting you. It makes you glad to be alive.

*** Wednesday, 07 May 2003 ***
After work I went to Cafeneaua Actorilor. I noticed a man staring at me from across the room. He looked young (25) and seemed to have a pot belly. Most interestingly he did not come over to talk to me but continued to notice me.

I finished reading the New Yorker as the light disappeared. The guy paid his bill and left. I noticed him noticing me as he walked down the walkway. A few minutes later he was back on his stool still noticing me.

I finished my beer and left. Outside I waited and he walked past me seeming not to notice me. We met in front of National Theater. I said hello and he asked why I was talking to him. I said because he was near me.

He discussed the Jewish conspiracy to control the world. He said he was in real estate but soon asked me if I knew about Amway. I did but didn't express my opinion that it was more of a religion than a marketing method. Next Zig Zigler and Dale Carnegie. He had all their books in his home.

By now I was figuring out how to loose this pest. He said he was going to the left so I said to the right and we parted, he heading to the south end of University. I used the north end of the Metrou to avoid the prostitutes and ran into Mr Amway on the subway platform. I said I was avoiding the aggressive prostitutes and he said they never bothered him because he was Romanian. "How can they tell," I asked. "You are wearing commodity clothes." he said, "Europeans prefer style."

He claimed his Oxford button-down cost $100. I admitted mine cost $35. "Europeans prefer quality over commodity," he said. I didn't remark that I liked my light cotton shirt a lot more than his heavier, overpriced Oxford.

He wanted to talk about the differences more but I told him he had to take his train and he said goodbye with the bright-eyed stare of the fanatic.

I hope Land's End won't be too offended.

*** Thursday, 08 May 2003 ***
I had lunch with Paul Baran at the Uptown. Denis, a waiter, came over to us and gave me some note papers that Paul found very amusing for they had dirty words written on every page along with their English equivalents. We talked and I asked Denis if he would work for me teaching me English. He accepted and we will meet tomorrow tonight at the Pizza Hut at 6 PM.

Went to Actorilor after work and read the Herald Tribune and did two crosswords.

I have tipped this accordionist numerous times but when I tried to take this picture he was determined to collect a fee. The guy on the left could care less.

At night when I open the front windows I can hear the mixture of sounds from a busy street: the rush of traffic, the hum of trackless trolleys, the honking of impatient drivers, the fragmentary sounds of conversations from the sidewalk, and, when the noisy hubbub subsides between red traffic lights, the sound of an accordionist who plays near my apartment. Like most nice things you have to listen for it but it is there and a welcome sound.

*** Saturday, 10 May 2002 ***
In Herastrou Park fleecy dandelion-like seeds -- like a large-flaked snow shower -- were everywhere. I finally figured out that some species of tree was breeding intensely, very like the way dandelions do.

I went to Herastrou Park to get some sun on my skin. It was a perfect day for it: hot and very sunny. I walked from one end of the park to the other and then sat down on a bench near the lake. It was a lazy day perfect for ambling or sunning yourself. Eventually Paul Baran called and I met him and two others and we went to Baneasa to the best meech place in town, called The Hunchback and owned and operated by one. The meech were the best I have had to date.

After lunch, Paul dropped me back at Herastrou and I ambled to the island and sat on a bench in the sun. Nearby a group of young men were swimming in the water. They noticed me photographing them and eventually two came over to talk to me. The one who spoke the most English turned out to be a Pentecostal and something of a proselytizer. He put all his efforts into getting me to come to church. I am sorry I disappointed him.

Denis showed up on time and we walked around and then went to my place where we worked on my Romanian. Like so many others, he was deeply pessimistic about the future of Romania. He told me the Romania and devil story: Someone is appointed to supervise Romanians in Hell but the Devil catches him asleep. His excuse is that he observed that every time some Romanian nearly gets over the wall, two other Romanians come over to drag him back in.

*** Sunday, 11 May 2003 ***
I was awake at 7 AM and got up to take my arthritis pill then back to bed till 9 AM.

I typed most of Denis' dirty words into the computer and then went to Herastrou Park where I got 2 1/2 hours of sun.

Lunch of mititei at La Mama then to Actorilor at 3 PM. The place was empty so I sat outside and relaxed.