July 9th 2023
I am wasting my time decorating my home. What a pity it is to have been one of the finest troublemakers all around Europe and now finding myself to cope with everyday problems as a quiet housewife. A neighbor of mine is called Jenny, she is quite attractive and manages a high end boutique near the museum where I work and live. She must be affluent as well, given the price of the housing in the area. When I compared her to Jenny Marx, she however did not understand and replied she has never heard about that name. During the glorious days of the Socialist Revolution, the name of Jenny Marx was praised almost as much as one of the great fathers of Ideology. Nowadays it is a lot if someone sustains that he has heard about a similar character from his grandfather storytelling. Switzerland is not the U.S. and the country is not subject to the socialist fashion. Leftist here are usually those who are living on social welfare. With some flexible interpretation, this category includes public employees as well. Sometimes even intellectuals. However there is a good number of well established writers, journalists and even actors who can still make good earnings without subjugating their mind, or at least their words, to the red thought. Beside those, high-end consultants and employees in the financial services have also not already been infected by the so-called woke virus. If I had to come back to the ideological fight, I should have moved to the U.S. Old Europe looks to have lost its power and independence, but also any kind of appetite for socialist lies. Despite the fact that I created it, I have also got enough of marxist-leninist philosophy.
The art dealer
I am still in Zurich and I cannot manage to escape right now. Another affluent client from the area justifies my presence. This time, it is a woman living in the Zug area. Zug, in German, means train, with my amusement for some plain puns. The Lady from the train, as I call him, is so cautious about each purchase that I need, everytime I offer her an artwork, to provide all the relevant data about the market for that object. The point is that she is expecting forecasts as well and, in the art market, nothing is so uncertain as value predictions. I could assume any figure she would like, clearly stating what is a good return of investment, after taxes, framing, transport costs and insurances. That makes the job quite hard, unless you are not so brilliant, or lucky, to have bought a Van Gogh while the artist was in need. Beside the fact that his brother was a skilled art dealer, working for one of the major houses in the Netherlands, and that I doubt he did not want to launch the great painter on the market while still alive. It was a matter of convenience. Theo Van Gogh created at first the myth and made a profit afterwards. He also created false expectations for people such as my client, who hopes, with her meager savings, to one day become a millionaire. With the assumption that the state, or a not-institutional thief, i.e. a professional burglar, will not deprive her of the lolly. In the end, you cannot hang on the wall the tickets of the national lottery that you purchased and enjoy their view. Stocks are not even printed anymore. A good picture is always enjoyable, despite its worth will not increase as high as expected. Let’s go and enjoy a trip on the boat, perhaps I will celebrate a deal.
In Zurich there is a big party during the weekend, that means more and more people from all around Switzerland and more mess than usual all around the dustbins. It is a clear nuisance since I cannot stand the crowd and even in the case that I could mingle with the folk, it is only with a specific purpose. Perhaps I need to take a deep breath and join the follies of the town. Pictures of the NZZ portrait ladies comfortably drinking a glass of white wine surrounded by a good amount of young men in boxers and white t-shirts. Not all of them have their arms fully covered by tattoos. I still cannot convince myself especially if I do not want to mate with a junior consultant who could declare to me his love for a whole night and disappear after a few weeks because he has found a more attractive kindergarten teacher far less busy and younger than me. I would prefer to limit myself to spending the afternoon or the whole day at home, reading comics and the last issue of the HBR. From my terrace with a full lake view, for which I am paying quite a lot of money extra, I will look at the fireworks and cheer up thinking not to be alone in this world. Women like me usually have a pet to take care of, but I think it is pathetic. I prefer to be misunderstood as a feminist who has only her own career in focus. That is not, but in such a leftist town perhaps it will help. Or perhaps not, if my boss has got enough of all the noise produced by any kind of activists, from Fridays to Sundays. Sometimes even during the middle of the week. I suppose it is not a problem for them to take a day off from their jobs, since most of those greenish socialists believe that income should only originate from state redistribution.