Today my father celebrates big. I will join the celebrations shortly but for now I’m sending greetings and warm wishes in the shape of selected images taken by you:
Your city. It will be forever.
It used to be so far. Traffic jams, fog, snow, heat – things needed to be endured.
And then finally Maribor, and most often sunny. Main square. Those four floors – sometimes it seemed even higher, depending on form.
View of green Pohorje. The scent of the kitchen. Cheerful baca.
This is your courtyard. High school. Basketball court. Drava river. “Don’t let NATO see your bridges,” Balašević said during his concert on the raft.
Impressions from my last visit? Pretty, quiet, friendly. Romantic, yet rainy on this occasion. Just where there used to be the marketplace, little chicks can no longer be bought.
And then, in Piran, the exact same number of stairs?
You always love to surprise and please.
The age is right for me to like Shakin’ Stevens. He is a regular in Bravo. His posters look down from the wall.
When you go abroad once again, you return with cassettes. A bunch of them. I look at them in awe. Names I have never heard before. And then one that I know. Stevens! Shaky! But no. The name on the tape is Cat Stevens. Disappointment lasts several years until I realise that Cat is a hundred times better.
In the same bunch of tapes there is also one of Buddy Miles, Jimi Hendrix drummer.
Many years later I will be at his concert in Vienna. The name will ring a bell from somewhere.
Father, not really son, but the year is right (1970). Tanti auguri e grazie per tutto!
Edit: P.S.: By going away he means visit me in Tuscany.