Hoodlie

While I was perfecting my faux truffles, we had a visit today from one of my favorite human beings on the planet.

She dropped by with a tin of Xmas candy and cookies, which made her on of my daughters' favorite humans as well.

I've known Julie for...well, come to think of it, our friendship is old enough to legally drink. Something we do (in moderation, of course) from time to time. Aside from her being an amazing photographer, she's maybe the only person I've ever known who is as good at listening as I am at talking.

She's kind of like a sister, except a sister I maybe have an inappropriate crush on.

I also adore her for being almost as out of touch with American mass media culture as I am. She achieved this by living in Prague for close to a decade (she's quit her job as a photo editor for the Washington Times to take some more time in that area of the world. Apparently there are no limits to her appetite for having the tools of her trade stolen.

How did I get out of touch with America? Not by visiting Prague, but by not having cable for the past decade or so.

I asked her today, just in passing, how many cameras she's had snatched. She thought for a second and said, 'Two. Two cameras and lots of lenses.' I didn't ask if any of that stuff disappeared while she was carrying water for gypsies. I mean Romany. Calling Romany 'gypsies,' well, let's hope Michael Richards isn't planning to entertain a caravan.



When we were in high school, Julie made her own wardrobe. She'd take me with her to thrift shops in the 'hood. I don't know how much of it was to see how hard I'd try to get her to try on short skirts and how much of it was genuine concern for how a tiny, very white teenage girl from the burbs would fare in such a neighborhood without a big, hairy white teenage guy. Probably more the former, since she went to places like Turkey and Russia all by herself right after college.

She'd take these thrift store threads and fancy them up, sew some lace on to this, combine it with that, and bammo, she looked like a million bucks and you could not go buy the same shit at Dillards with Daddy's credit card.



See also the Karmann Ghia she restored. And that second Karmann Ghia. A mutual friend commented that she could go camping in white shorts and stay visibly clean. I don't have first-hand experience with that, but I saw her pull the same trick on oil changes and even body work.

She apparently didn't lose her taste for thrift shops. When I had my heart attack, she sent me a picture of some soldiers and civilians (and kiddos) drinking beer, a photo that is doubtlessly from the Hapsburg days. I love a beer, even several beers, but it's easy to see that if the Austro-Hungarian Empire* was defended by these guys, it was time to say goodnight, Gracie.

I've had the picture on the wall in my den the past four years, but I promoted it to above my bed. Peace through superior firepower and bottoms up.




Oh, what's 'Hoodlie?' I hear you ask. I don't know. Julie came up with it, circa 1987, and it's still there.

*This is an edit. I typed 'Ottoman' last night, transposing the empire that once mismanaged what is now the Czech Republic (when it was part of Rakousko-Uhersko) with the Anatolian edition.