Visions of the future Soundtrack: Tahiti 80 - Big Day (Booka Shade remix)
Let me tell you a story of a man, let us call him Helge for simplicity, for that is his name. Helge was born somewhere in the early fifties, part of the baby boom following the end of the nasty business of the years before. A big, healthy boy he was, and announced his arrival into this pain-filled world by a selfrighteous scream. Good lungs, the nurse said, delighting the at the time mentally overpowered father and proud mother. Helge, the mother whispered softly, you're so beautiful.
Growing up Helge continued to be a healthy boy, the skills he lacked in sports he easily made up for by showing an intuitive talent for music. The piano, the guitar, the flute, Helge made music with them all. Having kind and understanding, supportive but not demanding, parents, Helge was allowed to approach music his own way, at his own pace.
Helge went to an academy of music, of which there excisted six at the moment, at the age of sixteen. Not a prestigeous one, no, this was only a school for kids interested in music, just as there was the mechanical schools for those that were into that. The reason it were called an academy, I think; just to add a bit of fluff.
It is soon discovered that Helges talents by far surpass those of his local teachers, paricularly in the subjects guitar and piano. At eighteen, Helge is therefore sent to the National Conservatory of Music, to learn and progress along with the nations finest. It was a joyous moment indeed, when Helge travelled to the Capital itself, Oslo, to start a career in the world of music. The two first years were okay, according to the man himself, if a bit dull. He improved his playing techniques immensely, and showed more than a bit of talent in the ways of composing as well. But my third year, Helge states, things took a swing for the better. Helge started making friends. Other musical entrepeneurs like himself, some older, some younger. There was a boy there of only fifteen years, the greatest talent ye olde country had ever seen, Helge remembers.
Helges new friends introduced Helge to the wonderful world of sex, drugs and classical music. A life filled with enough drugs and booze to make Keith Richards look like an innocent country boy. Those were the times. And it really were, for about ten years. Helge continued studying, composing and playing guitar and piano both. Versatility is important, or so it were said. The partying and drug-abuse increased along with his musical progress. Who knows where this might have ended if it were not for the fact that one day, Helge was visited by God. Helge might have gotten along well with drugs, he might have done even better with guidance from above. High on both kind of spirits, however, Helge took a turn for the worse. The God that had let itself be known to Helge was not a kind or forgiving kind of God at all. No, the thoughts flooding Helges mind at the moment were dark. Extremely dark.
So Helge "went away" to what we used to call a mental hospital. It was in fact more of a prison, where doctors with an "interest" only dwarfed by Mengele himself, put their long educations to good use. Luckily, nobody performed a lobotomy on Helge, a "cure" we cherished here in the enlightened country of Norway all the way to the late late seventies. No, Helge was one of the lucky ones, he were put in room and drugged. Drugged good.
My first meeting with Helge was this summer, when I'd first moved here, he was walking around without any shoes or trousers on. Helge is still manically depressive and completely bonkers. He lives in a welfare apartment, and does pretty much what he chooses to. A favourite pastime of his is reciting the darkest, most pessimistic parts of the Bible, calling himself the foulest of things and proclaiming that he is going to hell for his sins. Needless to say, I took an instinctive liking to the man, and has kind of adopted him. That is, he comes and talks to me, because I bother to listen. Helge is one of the most interesting people I've ever met. Behind the layers of dope and depression, there is a very bright intellect, and once in a while it shines through. Like this one time we were down at the pub, I bought him a beer (Helge is also notoriously broke) and he told me about how he'd been taken to a hospital the day before with a small heartattack, a shiver, or whatyacallit. Oh, I say. That's bad... but you're out already, shouldn't they keep you for observation or something? They also discovered I have cancer, Helge says. ...and a brain-tumor.... Helge, are you screwing around? *Sniggers*
This might not sound as big news, but for someone that spends most of his time looking randomly around himself, rubbing his forehead with both hands and say: he. he. he. hehe., pulling someones legs is quite amazing.
The point of this, long, I notice, thing; was
Helge has agreed to teach me to play the guitar
great things will spring from this
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), where I met up with yet more of those things named friends. I stayed with a friend from ##¤16-18 and his girlfriend (also from ##¤16-18, and also not going to hold together.). Saturday we ended up at a party together with our gay friend, the bastard not telling us that counting the two of us there would be two straight people there. Seven gay lads, ten lesbian women and two lost straighties. The party was great, dissapointingly stereotypical (I've never been to an almost all-gay party before), some of the girls had awesome tastes in music and books, while the boys were eager to hear Haddaways What is love. Hehe, silly boys. It was good I had to go already on sunday, or I probably would have ended up falling for one of the girls. And that naturally would not have been good. I have no illusions about having even a hint of the "gift" some boys boast they have.
But still, it was a cool experience. Imagine living off playing poker, sigh....
) and tomorrow I'll be stuck all day doing an inventory count. 
. And no, by this I do not mean I'm going to start dressing weird or let myself be sodomized by some fat old kalif or other.The first one to try has a nasty surprise coming at him. What I've read about them, they should be 
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