I have two adult men in my life who sweeten my time on earth.
One is my brother, the other my man. My man and I are living in separate places at the moment, but that will probably change in the near future.
The BROTHER
Brother and me in California 2003 - taking a picture of us and our friends in the mirror of a shiny car tyre rim
The other day we decided to visit my brother, who is about two hours away from us by car. On the way, we noticed that the car was making rare noises and, to avoid worse, we hung behind a truck with Spanish plates to sail in its slipstream. For around one hundred and eighty kilometres, we remained stoically behind the bulwark, mimicking every overtaking manoeuvre.
As we did so, we speculated about the driver: "Will he notice us? What he might be thinking, why a thirty-year-old VW Golf has taken to his heels?" Finally, as we approached our exit, we overtook the truck and when we were level with it, the driver's window went down, the horn sounded, the headlights flashed and the driver waved at us, grinning broadly, blinking teeth. We also rolled up the roof window and held out our arms in friendly greeting.
He had noticed us very well, had his own humorous thoughts and so it was that a human encounter took place that was not expected. We were as happy as children about it.
Arriving home,
we saw my brother already from a distance in front of the house, where he was dumping a bucket of water on the pavement, presumably the mop water he had used to clean up before. A warm hug later, we went into the house and made ourselves comfortable.
While my man did some quick shopping for dinner, my brother and I sat in the winter garden, already preheated, and he told me the latest story from his company. He has been working for the airfield for several decades, repairing and maintaining private aircraft.
Recently, there was a partial takeover of a former dependency of the company.
Some of my brother's employees were poached from there, but my brother, who is no longer keen on a big change, remains in the original company and "holds the fort".
One should not think that he would have any special loyalty towards the company management, it is rather the case that through the many years of cooperation and the family climate, something has arisen: a group with which one argues, which one endures, which drives one crazy because of the decisions made by the others, and which of course has also nourished one over all this time.
A relationship of give and take, where no one can claim to be in a superior position. Mind you, my brother has always been a person who didn't like authority and opened his mouth when something didn't suit him. And because of that, he was never "inferior".
He worked his way up, as they used to say, with his own "tools":
Interest in the work, a natural striving to do a good job. Because he is not a whisker and not a dilettante, he was never threatened with dismissal if, as was often the case, he allowed himself to stubbornly disobey instructions or to make a big joke out of everything when he "had enough".
Now the time had come again, the management was afraid that my brother, as a really capable and experienced man, could also move over, and so they invited him to a personnel interview.
You have to know that the thought processes of the company management are different from those of my brother. To describe the management level, you could say that they try to push the price down, but want to get the most out of people.
In this case, there was the fear of losing one of the last good men,
but without the simultaneous willingness to dig deeper into their pockets when it comes to pay. As if this had not been understood long ago, as if my brother had cared much that adequate payment had never come about of its own accord but, if at all, under the pressure of other factors, he prepared himself in his own fashion for the meeting.
Now, before I reproduce the exact words, I want to emphasise that this particular relationship between my brother and the company was never one of enmity, but, on the contrary, a kind of relationship actually known from family relationships - as hinted above - and also conducted under the term "love-hate".
Whereby that is actually already too strong an expression. In a way, he really cared and still cares for the company and his colleagues. Even for the "idiots" (for he knows and we know that everyone is an idiot once in a while).
Now that the time had come to meet with the company management,
my brother had formulated something in writing and, so as not to miss any nuance or subtlety in the wording, he recited it to those in attendance:
Dear Company Management,
I was afraid that you would want to talk to me about the current situation. Whatever it is about, I have a few comments. I am A., a painter and tapestry artist by profession. I have a lot of questions when it comes to staffing decisions and pay. In my 32 years with the company, I have seen many capable colleagues come and go. I have raised the issue several times and was told that the colleagues simply wanted too much money for their work and, since I was told that the company had been in financial difficulties for 32 years and that we could only keep colleagues of inferior quality, I gave a lot of energy and free time to the company and when I wanted more money, I worked a lot of overtime, for which I was well paid.
On the other hand, I have heard from companies that a fairly paid employee earns back five times the money he received. But I can't really believe that, because our management is always right when it comes to pay. I have also heard that many good employees of a company don't need much at all to be satisfied. Supposedly, if you don't lie to them and pay attention to them, do them a favour now and then, they'll gladly invest their free time for the company. Must be wrong, I've never experienced anything so disgusting in my company. But as I said, what do I know? I'm only a painter by profession.
Even as my brother read it out, I burst out laughing at some points and when he finally finished, I told him how much I loved him (!) and that he would forever be someone I would take a leaf out of my book.
I asked, "So, how did those present react? What did they say to you?"
He: "well, I didn't wait for that, but, when I finished, I got up and left the room."
We were bantering and I was happier than I had been in months.
He said, "wait, there's more! The next day, the old man came up to me and slipped me fifty bucks. As hush money."
Me: "What? I don't understand?"
"Let me tell", my brother said and continued, "The whole affair is of somehow very embarrassing nature to him and, so that I should keep to myself, so to speak, the meeting that took place and also the possible contents and implications, especially in front of the other employees, my senior boss meant to keep me in line with some cash. But I replied, "I won't take the money, or better still, I'll take it and throw it into our coffee fund."
So said, so done.
After such actions, there was and still is a somewhat excited and questioning mood in the company, and since my brother is not one to give too many details to everyone, of course no one knows anything for sure. It is simply delicious!
Yes, my brother is also a real patterer, he likes to exaggerate, he's probably not the hero I see in him in his eyes, even if he produces stories that are unique in their way, but (!) let's be honest: who even knows someone in person who takes so much cheek? I don't know anyone but him. He is one in a million.
The MAN
My man is more of a reserved, yet also stubborn as well as indirectly influencing character. In principle, he just knows how to ignore it when someone is spidery-enmitious to him and he treats you as if such a thing had never happened, as if he had never been told what to do or not to do. He still does what he prefers, but does not talk back.
House occupation by doing nothing
So this is how it has come about that since last year he has been living all alone in the back house and courtyard of a property, as the last remaining tenant, and not much is missing, so to speak, for him to be considered a squatter.
But from the beginning:
Some years ago, his landlord died and left behind heirs who are already of advanced age and who have now been in dispute with the daughter of the passed away over the property and money. The landlord was a unique creature himself, a heavy drunk, an interesting yet annoying character who left behind a place full of things. His sister and her husband, who are now responsible for the property actually are too old to take care of it themselves, and so it established itself that my man took over the role of the property-maintainance guy. Otherwise, you could be certain, it long would have been a broken in place. It lies in the middle of the city, in the old town square.
Here some impressions from the sight:
When winter came
and my man - who spared himself and the elderlies troubles as much as he could - told the couple that he needed oil for the heating. But as this relationship is not an official one, they did not hire my man for his self chosen task to be the property manager, they told him "Sorry, but we will not order the oil, it's time for you to find a new place."
A call he simply ignored and just continued to pay his rent. Which the couple silently took and not mentioned again that he shall move out. Now the situation is kind of truly funny. For my man is not in the position to make any further demands like how to deal with the necessities "electricity" and "water-supply". The old lady once in a while asks for the readings, nothing else.
What happened recently, is that the water pipe in the room with the washing machine started to leak.
There was already a bigger leak before but could be stopped. But this one was nothing my man could handle himself and so he decided that he can live with the fact to have water for an hour a day. His solution was to shut down the main-valve as to prevent the water to drip all day. Only when he needs water in the morning, for coffee and washing, he turns it on again.
The conditions under which he lives in a modern city, have become so ridiculously different from what one is used to, that one cannot help it to find it hilarious! At least I do.
Imagine, in the freezing cold winter weeks this year to come back home and have no heating system. Or to work from home-office with gloves or hat. No, he actually does not ware winter clothes but puts up with an electric heater which drives up the electricity bill. Nevertheless, the small heater is not sufficient to make the whole place cozy but fits for the purpose of not freezing too much in ones four corners.
The situation made us sticking together every day,
which we did not in the years before. But as my man also has disengaged his fridge, abandoned his kitchen and does all the shopping for me (as I refuse to shop with a mask) he is at my place every afternoon. Where we have established a routine like so:
First we have a smoke on the balcony, then we may open up a beer, then we play one or two card game rounds und afterwards prepare dinner. Mostly, I took over the cooking part. We eat, chat, watch some video on the net and then it's time for him to leave, as my space is too small for the three of us: man, woman and my teenage son.
What makes my man so special for me
is the fact that he willingly and knowingly puts up with a situation which stays uncertain. That he doesn't mind it too much to be faced with less comfort, that he is able to see something valuable to remain in a state of scarcity. That makes it all the more welcomed when we are at my place, where it's warm and cozy (often too warm for him) and where I am taking also care of him.
I myself would not be able to sacrifice warmth and water, especially not during winter temperatures!
Now, don't think of us as "poor". We aren't. Yet we are.
But happy poors - not most of the times but enough to say "good enough".
We had a more than relaxed time in his backyard. When he moved into his one-bedroom apartment about ten years ago, only temporarily as he thought, this place gradually became a beautiful home. Depending on what you mean by that. The roof, which was leaking right from the start, made for a damp ceiling, it kept dripping through in various places and he had to seal it at all corners to be protected from the drops. In between, every now and then a mould treatment and a fresh coat of paint. When it rains a lot, there are buckets on the floor.
In summer, the place is a dream.
And after one tenant after another had to leave, my man stayed. He is like the last of the Mohicans, the bearded one, who despite adversity and shortcomings likes to stay in a place that offers space and sunshine, a beautiful courtyard where we enjoyed many summertime barbecues and friendly get-togethers with our children and friends.
He then took over the abandoned territory bit by bit, the entire adjoining room, which had previously been home to an architect's agency, became a guest room, first for me, then for cooking evenings together and feasting and making ourselves comfortable. I spent many sewing hours there, the dressmaker's dummy is still there.
This temporary dwelling has become a place of shared memories and we will keep it in our hearts - and in some pictures. The time of leaving is approaching. Maybe we will get one last summer, who knows.
One night, when I stepped outside, I found a beautiful moon. Took my phone and snapped some shots. I find the place looks magic by night and friendly by day.
Would you imagine this in the middle of a big city?