Aging Golden Boys and German Bread
I am settling into a decadent Berlin vacation. I'm dabbling in old vices and drinking too much champagne. Settling into spending time with the German again -- we have fun together -- and being in someone else's space (again) but I'm feeling welcome and comfortable, so its less difficult than it was the first few days.
I have now nicknamed the German and his friends "the aging golden boys." One is a former club owner now living as a hapless bachelor at 40, with a shower in his kitchen with German sausages dangling from the faucet, a pile of adidas in the foyer, a random traveler in his spare room and an enormous hottub in the laundry room. The other one is a handsome cafe owner, who sells Norman's books in his cafe, shops for boats on line, "for parties." He drives a classic Alfa Romeo, smokes joints blended with Gauloises, and seriously shops for BOATS the way one might casually scan a friendster page. Another friend of the group is the producer of "Paradise Now" and will be making his way to the Oscars -- he and his producing partner were dubbed "the Golden Boys of Kreutzberg" in some cheesy article which made Normie and me laugh (Norman was fuming) and this is the genesis fo the term.
The adidas and sausage owner is trying to produce Norman's book turned screenplay about South Africa. They need to shop for a director and have some interest in investors. This is exciting for the Aging Golden Boys, me included, as it feels like Things Are Happening. Seems like a story that needs to be told, I however, have not read it. I'm on vacation and that means vacation from boy's projects, or any projects for that matter. But I'm sure I'll cave and read it.
My brain is occupied with eating and drinking and exploring, which is barely true, because I haven't seen much. Tomorrow, I'll see culture, this is the plan. We have seen two terrible movies at the Berlin film festival, which aside from being in Berlin, really kind of sucks. There is very little that is interesting here - Alan Berliner's new film about himelf, himself, himself and a bit of insomnia was a 90 minute masturbation excersise funded by HBO and then Michael Winterbottom's new film "Road to Guantanemo" was the most appalling piece of shit propoganda schlock I've ever seen. Both are examples of an artist who rides his name and doesn't feel obliged to make good work. The worst part is that Germans in the audience were applauding at these really cheesy parts of the film, so I'm not sure what's worse -- the film or the stupid audience's response.
Valentine's Day was a lot of fun. The German bought me a hat, and we kissed all day and night. We had a cathartic converstaion between movies and over vodka about how I think we are easing into friends and this will not be the "great love" that it felt like a few months ago. After we left the bar, Normie had already re-written history as the person who had laid it out, and apologized to me for rejecting me. Silly. Somehow this conversation (which is why I wanted to have it) eased everything and I felt so much better about being in his company, which is a pleasure when we're not fighting over Israel and Palestine. No heartbreak in sight, but lots of love and affection from my beautiful Germanboy.
And back soon to my life -- of healthy pleasures and continued filmmaking -- and an attempt to find real love.
I have now nicknamed the German and his friends "the aging golden boys." One is a former club owner now living as a hapless bachelor at 40, with a shower in his kitchen with German sausages dangling from the faucet, a pile of adidas in the foyer, a random traveler in his spare room and an enormous hottub in the laundry room. The other one is a handsome cafe owner, who sells Norman's books in his cafe, shops for boats on line, "for parties." He drives a classic Alfa Romeo, smokes joints blended with Gauloises, and seriously shops for BOATS the way one might casually scan a friendster page. Another friend of the group is the producer of "Paradise Now" and will be making his way to the Oscars -- he and his producing partner were dubbed "the Golden Boys of Kreutzberg" in some cheesy article which made Normie and me laugh (Norman was fuming) and this is the genesis fo the term.
The adidas and sausage owner is trying to produce Norman's book turned screenplay about South Africa. They need to shop for a director and have some interest in investors. This is exciting for the Aging Golden Boys, me included, as it feels like Things Are Happening. Seems like a story that needs to be told, I however, have not read it. I'm on vacation and that means vacation from boy's projects, or any projects for that matter. But I'm sure I'll cave and read it.
My brain is occupied with eating and drinking and exploring, which is barely true, because I haven't seen much. Tomorrow, I'll see culture, this is the plan. We have seen two terrible movies at the Berlin film festival, which aside from being in Berlin, really kind of sucks. There is very little that is interesting here - Alan Berliner's new film about himelf, himself, himself and a bit of insomnia was a 90 minute masturbation excersise funded by HBO and then Michael Winterbottom's new film "Road to Guantanemo" was the most appalling piece of shit propoganda schlock I've ever seen. Both are examples of an artist who rides his name and doesn't feel obliged to make good work. The worst part is that Germans in the audience were applauding at these really cheesy parts of the film, so I'm not sure what's worse -- the film or the stupid audience's response.
Valentine's Day was a lot of fun. The German bought me a hat, and we kissed all day and night. We had a cathartic converstaion between movies and over vodka about how I think we are easing into friends and this will not be the "great love" that it felt like a few months ago. After we left the bar, Normie had already re-written history as the person who had laid it out, and apologized to me for rejecting me. Silly. Somehow this conversation (which is why I wanted to have it) eased everything and I felt so much better about being in his company, which is a pleasure when we're not fighting over Israel and Palestine. No heartbreak in sight, but lots of love and affection from my beautiful Germanboy.
And back soon to my life -- of healthy pleasures and continued filmmaking -- and an attempt to find real love.
posted by No Longer Active at 4:46 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home