Armes Vaterland

 

 

Das kann man ja überhaupt nicht glauben dass sich Achtzigjährige in Deutschland noch abrackern müssen um genug zum Leben zu haben. Wie sagte die Merkel noch als sie die Flüchtlinge nach Deutschland einlud? "Das schaffen wir!"

 

 

Hat sie ja, aber feste ABgeschafft. Jetzt zahlt die deutsche Regierung diesen Millionen von sogenannten "Flüchtlingen" Milliarden von Euros Unterstützung weil ihre eigenen Bürger nach lebenslanger Arbeit und Steuerzahlung am Hungern sind. Und das ist kein Einzelfall - siehe hier.

 

 

Da kann ich ja froh sein, dass ich von dem schon Jahrzehnte vorher weggegangen bin. Lieb Vaterland, magst ruhig sein? Nee, nicht mehr!

 

 

Ich habe nie den Gedanken gehabt eines Tages auf Staatskosten in den Ruhestand zu gehen. Ich habe mein ganzes Leben lang Geld gespart und angelegt und lebe davon im Ruhestand und zahle immer noch Steuern.

 

 

Through a flyscreen darkly

 

 

I've been an early riser all my life: when I was still working, I couldn't wait to get back into the one thing that gave my life meaning, and now that I'm in retirement, I can't wait to embrace what's waiting out there for me. One quick look from my bed through a flyscreen darkly, I know what's waiting out there for me, and I don't waste time to get out there and fully embrace it.

First up it's feeding time for the parrots which are waiting for their helping of sunflower seeds; then it's the beady-eyed and almost tame currawong for whom we always stock up on corned beef; by which time the scores of ducks have waddled up from the pond demanding their scoops of chicken pellets; and the two possums - mother and little joey - are already sticking their pink noses out of the possum penthouse waiting for their apple.

Running out of time, I dispense with my usual cooking of porridge and dig into two pieces of what, many years ago, a cardboard manufacturer had found himself in excess of and cleverly repackaged as Weet-Bix. I'm not an Aussie kid but when I run out of time to cook porridge I'm a Weet-Bix kid.

 

 

As for the rest of the day, I've got a stack of books waiting for me beside that much-loved sofa on the verandah. It's just a question of deciding which one: Geoffrey Blainey's "Short History of the 20th Century" or Morris West's "A View from the Ridge" or Graham Greene's "A Sort of Life".

 

Only robbers and gypsies say that one must
never return where one has once been.

                             S∅ren Kierkegaard

 

I think Greene's "A Sort of Life" suits my mood today almost perfectly.

 

Friends in High Places

 

 

It was early 1976. A few months earlier I had resigned from my post as Chief Accountant in Rangoon with the French oil company TOTAL - Compagnie Française des Pétroles. Twelve months behind the "Teak Curtain" and under the dictatorship of U Ne Win had seemed long enough, and so I took up a posting in Tehran under the dictatorship of the Shah of Iran.

'Out of the frying pan and into the fire' is the best way to describe this particularly ill-fated move and I left Tehran again soon afterwards, but not before I met up again with René Pain-Savanier, graduate of the 'École des hautes études commerciales de Paris', who, as TOTAL's 'chef du service du Contrôle à la Direction Financière' in Tehran, had been highly complimentary of my work during his visits to Rangoon and also in references written some years later.

 

 

M. Pain-Savanier's home in Tehran was pure Parisian elegance and chic and, on the two or three occasions when he and his charming wife Odette entertained me there, he never failed to express his regrets over my decision to leave TOTAL.

As it turned out, the Shah was forced into exile in Egypt in January 1979. Soon thereafter, the Iranian monarchy was formally abolished, and Iran was declared an Islamic republic led by Ayatollah Khomeini. Westerners were forced to leave, and René returned to France from where he once again sent me a flattering reference together with an invitation to visit him in his retirement home in the south of France.

 

 

I reflected on all this when I found a notice of his funeral on the internet. 'Chevalier de la Légion d'honneur' no less, the highest French order! It's good to have had friends in high places, and he's in an even higher place now. Rest in peace, M. Pain-Savanier! My life has been richer for having known you.

 

---

 

P.S. Having had no trouble reading the above two references in French, you should have no trouble counting to five in French and appreciating this little pun: A man had two cats. One was named One Two Three, and the other was named Un Deux Trois. He took them to the park one day and rented a rowboat and took them out for a ride. But a bigger boat came by and swamped the rowboat in its wake. The man and the One Two Three cat made it safely to shore, but the Un Deux Trois cat sank.