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| The Interim Flat (13 september 2008)
A friendly young woman waiting outside the high-rise building greets us and tells us that she is a friend of the owner and could we please come in. We make our way to the elevators but this is not necessary as the apartment is on the ground floor. I had forgotten to check what floor the apartment was on but it is, after all, only a five-day-stay. Inside the flat, there is almost a reception committee: the young and very pretty blonde with whom I had negotiated and who says that she is the owner of the flat, the friend who greeted us outside who now says that she is not a friend but the sister, the sister-friend’s husband and an older (50-ish) woman, perhaps her mother, walking around with a broom. They are from Ecuador and seem friendly and helpful. This is their first rental. The owner, if she is indeed the owner, says that she has until recently worked in financial services. She shows us the ‘large flat’ that in truth is tiny: very small bedroom in which one can hardly move, small living room, miniscule kitchen. But the place is ultra modern, very hi-tech, full of remote controls to activate almost everything in the flat. The kitchen has all mod cons, ovens, microwave, and mixers. None of them has ever been used, other than perhaps the microwave. The owner gives me what she says is the most important item of the kitchen: a pile of menus from nearby restaurants from which she telephone orders ready-made meals and has them delivered. It’s a girl’s flat with red fluffy animals everywhere, red cushions scattered around, where you need them and where you don’t and, above all, candles. The owner has made some space for us in one cupboard but the place is crammed with her stuff. The crowning glory, my landlady’s pride and joy, is a collection of unopened souvenir size liqueur bottles in various shapes but mainly in all colours of the rainbow. I had to promise that I would not drink any of the liqueurs.
...but it is, after all, only a five-day-stay.
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| Rudi Giuliani at the Republican National Convention (5 September 2008)
The most repulsive of the speeches is Rudi Giuliani’s. He had hoped to be the Republican Party’s candidate but dropped out in January. As mayor of New York during the 11th September twin towers attack, he quickly managed to gain recognition as the great organiser of the rescue services and as the city’s morale-booster. Already in 2001, his self-promotion was rather unattractive. He seemed to be building his popularity on the back of the disaster. There is something about him that reminds me of Norman Tebbit who, as a minister in Margaret Thatcher’s cabinets, often served as her attack-dog. Giuliani, at theRepublican Convention, takes the attack role with a vengeance. It is the most rabble-rousing of speeches. And the delegates love him. In response to him telling us that, ‘We, the people, the citizens of the United States, get to decide our next president, not the left-wing media, not Hollywood celebrities, not anyone else but the people of America,’ the Convention hall erupts with shouts of, ‘USA! USA!’ A delighted Giuliani responds, ‘That’s right, USA.’ And now the whole hall explodes and roars, ‘USA! USA! USA! USA!’ What kind of primitive reaction is this? He is good at it. He elicits audience reactions after almost every sentence. When he praises McCain he gets applause and when he deprecates Obama the hall boos. Indeed, he cuts to the chase right away. Not for Mr Giuliani or for the Republican audience an analysis of Obama’s qualities or supposed lack of qualifications for the job: Giuliani needs to mock Obama. Obama’s work as a community organizer is mocked and the audience boos. Obama’s voting record as a state legislator is mocked and the audience first laughs and, when further prompted, boos. Then Giuliani attacks Obama for not having any leadership experience…
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| Doggie Style (6 October 2008)
One sees a surprisingly large number of dogs in this city. Surprising because Manhattan apartments are small, surprising because 50 per cent of all apartments are single-person households and most people go to work, and surprising because the solutions are expensive. A woman I recently spoke to told me that she spends $1500 per month on dog walkers and other forms of dog care. Doggie Style is a company that runs day care centres for dogs. I walk into one of their shops and am greeted by a fairly strong dog odour and by two friendly staff members. Dog owners may be oblivious to their own pet’s perfume but do they like the group smell? I ask for information before I decide whether to entrust my darling pooch to this establishment. 24-hour supervised care is $70 per day. Day care is only $40 or at a monthly package of $695. They run a wellness programme and even cardiovascular workouts for the dogs. For $20 they will brush a dog’s teeth. Haircuts and baths are more expensive. If I prefer my dog to stay at home and to be taken for daily walks by their dog walkers, I would have to leave keys to my apartment with them or arrange for the doorman to let them in. Monthly packages cost up to $625 and cover only weekdays. Before I leave, I am told that there will, additionally, be an annual membership fee of $300 and my dog, of course, would have to be spayed or neutered. I shudder at that idea and bid them goodbye. Fortunately, I do not have a dog. Saves me money and castration, let alone the odour.
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