The Heckler

Django doesn't need a television ....

Welcome, to todays heckling. Grumbling is fun .... especially, if you cannot do it better yourself. This is why I grumble about a very common problem: The bad television program .... and I prove, that I could do something against it.

Guilty was the Volksmusik (folk music). As a hidden softrocker I am pleased, if Herbert Groehnemeier lets fly "Planes in the stomach"("Flugzeuge im Bauch"). Xavier Naidoo's "She doesn't see me" ("Sie sieht mich nicht") would have made me sigh deeply. But had it to be that the "Wildecker Herzbuben" joined their festive evening with mine!?

Because the couch is my favorite place in the beginning of the evening programme and the remote control was in an unreachable (resp. invisible) distance (due to my myopia) I had to tolerate it more or less well ....

But the pain is deep and this is why it is best to open a bottle of Franconian wine, maybe it is a bit easier to survive, then.

But after the send glass it's over ... I struggle to my feet and do a proper job of it: TV of !! "You did it, I capitualate", I think when I switched off the TV. But there was no escape ... my neighbour connected his stereo to his TV and tortures me with "Herzilein" in Dolby Surround.

I "get me" the bottle and want to fill the third glass. Suddenly I get a diabolic idea ... I never liked my neighbour. And what does an 68 year old Dolby Surround for? He doesn't eaven hear his three-sound-doorbell.

I am looking around my appartment. Like a Neanderthal man I am looking for a virtual bone to make my claims certain to my neighbour and his "Herzbuben army". My view stops at a nice electronic device, which is very similar to a bread box.

My A1200 - desktop with Blizzard PPC-Board and some other toys looks heroic to me. My girl, my last hope ... never ever before I liked her beige skirt that much.

Power supply, monitor and modem on ... a soft, but diabolic buzzing is in the room and signalizes, that my army is making the trumpet call to attack.

Quickly, I download a well known, very nerving MP3 file from the Aminet. Much trash, much hardcore techno ... but a hero must be able to suffer. And no one was ever allowed to provocate me.

Meanwhile I have got my fourth and last glass ... the bottle is empty and my neighbour now listens to Patrick Lindner ... this is the greates fault of his life. He challenges me. This rogue, that's what he wants!!

Meanwhile AmigaAMP is loaded, my stereo (also Dolby Surround) is connected. Soaked in sweat and with my shaking right hand I try to position the mouse pointer on the play mark of AMP ... the index finger presses the left mouse button for the shot and .... dammned, mnissed! Stefanie Haertels voice is Kamikaze flying through my room. Scared I look to my glass. With pain in my eyes I get it ... I empty it in one go and get the mouse again. This time, it has to work.

Click and ..... a gigantic noise comes out of my stereo. I put the basses to a perfect level .... boum, boum, boum. Like angels singing.

After 5 minutes it is over. The song is over and .... I am listening: Silence. Like after the explosion of an atomic bomb; really spooky. My muscles become normal again, my face brightens. Should I have won? It really seems so.

The next morning, I dreamed nice and slept well, I meet grandpa on the stairs. He looks at me and whispers into my ear: "Well, Mr. Driesner, did you hear this strange noise?" Amazed, I look at him ... should he have no idea? Or is he testing my nerves? "No, Mr. X. What noise?"

"You really didn't hear anything?". "No, really not!!", I say and get a sceptical view on my face. Grandpa X - embarrased - said "Then my new radio seems to be defect." (this hypocritical guy) " I have no other explanation. Oh, this new, technological stuff. Expensive and has no real value, right?" I look at him indulgent, smile understandingly and say after a little while "Goodby, Mr. X, I have to go to the cellar to get a bottle of wine for tonight." I turn around and went down the stairs.

Well, well, Grandpa is right; this new, technological stuff has no real value. The evidence: Better having a seven year old computer than a two week old stereo.

Live long and prosper

Ralf Driesner <global.dries@gmx.de>