Little more than one city block later, I could tell by the graffiti alone that the kids here were attuned to a more domestic style of mischief.

While I lament Romania does have a urban mural scene and seems instead awash in tweenage taggers, I was happy to see the folks living on Baba Novac (not Bob Novak) had more of a local flavor as opposed to the MTV-monkeys up in Decebal.

Yes, a little home-cooked boroboaţa is a preferred sight.

Who could possibly know what amazing feats of wonder might have driven the great artists of his generation to so adoringly pay tribute to his accomplishments with a salutation for the ages gracefully painted upon a rusted-out hollow utility box stuffed with precious gifts for the altar which now serves as monumental centerpiece for younger generation of visitors to Complex Rucar and promulgates Madalin to instant fame in the blogosphere.

Millennia from now, alien archeologists from uncharted space will marvel over the presumed religious significance of such a masterpiece of cultural… oh, I suppose I’ve gone too far, now.

Shall we move on to other examples of local craftsmanship?

An explanatory placard would go a long way toward increasing the odds of a body understanding just what in the world this might be. A piece of concrete communism, to be sure. But is this water fountain supposed to be an astrological clock opening a portal to the 4th dimension? A handheld gram scale amok? Aborted zodiac sign?

I suppose it will be interesting to see how it looks in the summer. Assuming the city turns the water on.

I still love the Trabant. It just seems the perfect toy.

Rather than dusted with snowflakes in Bucureşti, I can imagine this Trabant with some better air pressure loaded up with a couple surfboards and a full propane tank cruising I-5 just outside of Encinitas. All it needs is a custom paint job.

The only thing more natural would be a dolled up Barkas bus on the same stretch of highway.

I don’t know about you, friend, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and venture a guess that concrete was probably not the artist’s preferred medium. I mean, how’d we get this piece of work?

Make a mold of the face and basic head. Attach that little mold to a larger tombstone-style cardboard box. Turn the whole thing upside down, pour in some fine-grain quickset concrete and let it set a while. When you guesstimate the head might be relatively stable, then pour the junk mix over the top into the larger chamber.

When the base starts to firm up, flip the whole thing right side up and remove the mold. Inspect the face to make sure it’s workable. Then take some excess junk concrete ooze and begin fashioning a beard and hair.

Voila! Another advancement of the arts thanks to influential communist stylings. Cold and lifeless — both literally and figuratively –  the anachronistic overseer of the tovaraşi parked in stoic repose at the entrance of the public park off Baba Novac in Titan.

The smiley face graffiti cracks me up, because Cuza never struck me as a happy friendly guy.

On the other hand, Moş Korochun has always seemed the jolly type. So it was quite curious to stumble upon this electric light representation of present-dispensing practioner. I wonder why did he look like muppet eskimo characture, perhaps explained by having had his bulbs glued together in China, and, more importantly, just why is it he was giving all the children of Titan a crude gesture with his middle finger?

Contrarily, Frosty the Snowman looks as thrilled as a pig in slop. Atta boy, Frost!

I wouldn’t want you to think that cartoon icon of Americana was the only cold and happy thing in Parcul I.O.R. Nossir. There were, afterall, humans lurking about. Adeverat.

What a glorious sight, exiting strada Baba Novac!

Entering the park to find it teeming with life, aflutter with holiday buzz.  Giggling teenagers charged with hormones, young families opening the imaginative minds of small children to the electric glow of Christmas joy, and elderly couples drinking it all in as they quietly stroll along with a twinkle in their eye.

Whomever was in charge of decorating the park gazebo was probably not the same person in charge of decorating the park overall. Their execution was probably the best part of the park, given the small space, and I would humbly suggest this same person should probably be assigned the design of the entire park next year.

Here we find an awkward corporate sponsor. Whatever they paid for the promotional space was not enough money. The city will need to charge more to anyone wanting to promote their corporate logos at public events as well as laydown some ground rules as to thematic considerations.

Just look a this monstrosity. The bloated windbag stood out like a sore thumb, as the company made zero effort whatsoever to try and fit the holiday theme. That speaks volumes about the depth of thinking behind this radio station. A station so out of touch it uses an inflatable cassette player boombox with analog dials. Something kids have never seen.

During Christmas.

Hey, Itsy Bitsy, get off your duff and pretend to care about the kids and families, will ya? Strap on your thinking caps; enhance the mood and feel of the Craciun experience. Don’t detract from the fun with your lenes eyesore.

And while I’m spanking you, here’s a few other rants I’d like to shove down your throat. I suppose some PHB thinks the high-pitch voiceovers are adorable when they’re definitely not, but anyone can agree your radio broadcasts have entirely too much pointless chatter that the kids do not care about.

As if that were not bad enough, you play as many minutes of commercials as you do play songs. Possibly more. Are y’all completely insane? Have you any idea what a terrible experience that is?  Do you understand this devalues the ad slots you sell? Does someone have to explain everything to you? Raise the price, rotate fewer advertisements, and increase the quality of your broadcast mix.

Most of the songs in Romaneşte I’ve heard on your station suck: badly, really really badly. I cannot emphasize that enough. Really. You need some serious help in understanding what an audience is entertained by. Start by hiring a competent program director and get them involved in brand experience research.

Unless, of course, your executive staff is dumb enough to think they’ll survive for long now that kids are all getting online and have many more choices. Let me break it down for you: right now, at least one astute reader of this blog has picked up on the business opportunity and begun imagining how they develop a competing experience for the children of Romania. They can probably offer a better service for less money, leaving Itsy Bitsy a shriveled relic of a bygone era.

What dimwit thinks it’s a good idea to play so much music from America? First of all, rocket scientists, the kids do not understand English language. That should be enough right there to convince you to stop playing MP3s of songs extracted from American TV shows the kids haver never seen. It’s pretty lame when you stuff the broadcast with filler like worn-out 1960s American rock music with words the kids cannot sing along to.

And since you play Disney songs (for which I tend to doubt you have the license to play, as Disney is very protective of its music) which generally pretty good music quality compared to much the other local schlock your station pukes out on public airwave, one might argue the point that your actions may implant in impressionable minds the message that Romanian music is of lower quality, boring, uncool, and otherwise not worth listening to.

Here’s a clue: Take all that money you’re making from the 4 ads-per-song sales success you’re focused on and channel some of those funds back into the Romanian art community by funding the creation of new children’s musicians right here at home. Just think of all the money you’ll make from owning the rights to the characters and personalities you create: not only advertising revenue via radio and internet, but selling actual CDs in stores, repositioning your assets into TV, cable, DVD, and internet video mediums.

You make more profit when you provide a better quality experience for the kids. However, it will require the people at your helm let go of the greed lever. Set you sights higher and accomplish more.

In any event, stop repeating “asculta Itsy Bitsy” nine hundred times an hour. I feel bad for the kids.

Here’s how your station sounds: Asculta message, annoying voiceover chatter for 3 minutes, advertisement, commercial, advert, asculta message, Disney song in English, sleepy song in Romaneşte, asculta message, boring song in Romanian, asculta message, annoying voiceover chatter for 2.5 minutes, asculta message, American TV song, advertisement, ad, asculta message, commercial, advert, reclama, asculta message, fairly weak Romanian song, 1960s American song, asculta message, 2 minute voiceover about ustoroi, asculta message, promotion about attending church, asculta message, finally a pretty entertaining Romanian song, asculta message, American TV song, asculta message, annoying voiceover chatter for 4 minutes, advertisement, crap Romaneşte song…

Ad infinitum.

I don’t think I have the energy left to point out the myriad of disappointments with your website. My readers are probably sick to death of reviewing your many flaws, so we won’t get into the lackluster online experience focused on creating insecurity within parents your advertisers exploit.

Itsy Bitsy could be so much more than a logo filled with empty calories whose sole purpose is to turn a buck without regard to the experience kids have with the brand. I predict a more savvy competitor will obviate your existence in the near future.

In the meantime, let’s hope next Christmas you opt for something more creative than an inflatable object most kids have never seen.

Your first surprise will be to learn that the Romanian Post Office does not deliver packages to you. Spoiled western, how dare you expect service. How silly of you to think that merely because the package contains your address, it might therefore actually be intend to arrive at the inscribed location.

You will instead get a slice of dead tree with a hand-scrawled note, perhaps legible if you squint carefully with your head cocked to one side like a curious dog after a pepper spray attack, which announces that a package has been received.

Just not received by you.

It’s not because they postal carrier stopped by your house to deliver the package and found you not at home, as you might believe. It’s simply that Poşta Romana could not be bothered to try in the first place.

The notification will indicate the date you are allowed to retrieve the package. In that past, showing up one a different day might result in you being unable to obtain your package.

Never mind that you might be away from your apartment because you went to the seaside. Never mind that perhaps you have business obligations scheduled for the particular day assigned to you.

Feeling sick? A tad forgetful? Twisted your ankle? Detained by police for questioning after a particularly colorful evening out on the town? No excuses. The notice clearly stated the date you were permitted to come to the post office.

Granted, the locals have begun a campaign to convince me that change has come to Romania and, perhaps, these days you’re given a 3 day grace period before the package is return to whence it came. One person claims a week, which is not entirely unreasonable, if true.

Mind you, showing up on the prescribed day (or shortly thereafter) during regular post office business hours is not advised. Rather, the paper alert slipped into your mailbox will let you know what hours of the day you will be allow entrance.

So, mark your calendars and set your alarm clocks.

In the recent past, the window of opportunity to collect packages was typically a scant handful of hours, but recent paradigm shifts in customer service have vastly expanded available service hours to almost a full eight.

This gives you plenty of time to sneak out of the office or ditch school in order to travel to the post office and find out if your package still available.

For those of you receive packages outside of Bucureşti, I recommend going as early as possible. In all the other Romanian cities wherein I’ve received packages from the outside world, you are often met by bitter employees working at a snail’s pace.

Typically, they’ll attempt to batter you with a confusing stream of paperwork and identification checks. Often, you must deal with one or more of their colleagues as the staff enjoy a good game of monkey-in-the-middle as much as the next bureaucrat.

Keep your patience, stranger. For what lies next is the fearsome Customs Officer who will glower at you with disdain, tear your carton asunder, and rifle through its contents hoping to damage whatever it can. When this ritual ends, they will point to one or more objects which require a dubious tax for which they issue no receipt whatsoever.

Congratulations, you’ve just bought the post office staff dinner.

Ah, but in the shiny happy sophisticated magnificently glorious beacon of ubermodernity, the capital metropolis of Bucureşti, you will more than likely will not have to subject yourself to unnecessary customs harassment.

However, don’t expect to go to the post office just down the block from where you live. That would be entirely too easy. Too convenient. Too logical.

No, no.

Check your package notification for the welcome news that you will be required to fight your way across town to some distant post office located somewhere you’ve never been before, so you can enjoy the adventure of becoming lost in the city.

But the best news of all is the pick-up depot has been carefully chosen to exist in a strategic location. A neighborhood famously awaiting your presence with open arms, straine.

Unde? Pantelimon. Drum bun!

When I was living in Poarta Schei, the world seemed normal. However, every other place I’ve lived in Romania and most every place I’ve visited friends in Romania has been plagued by constant construction noise.

For years, the sound of heavy duty drills and jackhammers can be heard at 8am. The guy to the left of me, the lady to the right of me. Upstairs, downstairs. At my apartment. At my friends’ apartments. Some people keep going until 10pm. Yes, really. Really.

8am to 10pm every day but Duminica. It’s everywhere and constant. For years. Years!

Clutching a camera with frozen fingers and surviving the occasional arctic blast to the face, this is what I encountered.

A little praf de iarna, gen. No thick blanket of snow, just a light dusting. Ştii? This was several days before the first real snow fell (which some people claim isn’t real at all). Make no mistake: the air was nippy enough to avoid any triple dog dare lurking about.

There you have it. Incontrovertible proof that Romania is no longer a poor country. Sorry kids, but when you start finding shops selling pet clothing (and actually seeing a few dogs wearing that horrid crap), then you’ve joined the ranks of the first world.

If you’re embarrassed to be seated at the children’s table, then you must stop asking for international handouts and stand on your own two feet.

Or else just stop selling pet clothes and then you can continue to pretend you’re still eligible for the kid’s meal. Cake. Eat. Too.

Alrighty then, I suppose we’d best return to our stroll post haste.

A local pizzeria stokes the wood-fired oven to keep the tables full of patrons and the delivery car busy. Icicle lights lazily strung about in fire-hazard glory, nearly imperceptible paper snow flakes scotch-taped to the windows in a wintery where’s waldo for only the most stubborn of teeth-chattering gawkers, and a happy little wreath donut on the door.

But, wait, what’s… that?

Why, yes, Timmy, Santa was just here.  He left behind several sacks of stolen currency and illicit drugs for Mommy and Daddy.  It just wouldn’t be the same without jolly old Saint Nick.  Now, off to bed with you, scamp, or else the red-suited fat man will break-in through the window to steal all your toys.

All across Bucureşti you’ll find Romanians have settled on their favorite decoraţii de Craciun, gen, which are variations on the same theme.: Moş Craciun breaking into your house to steal presents.

Think of it like the hoţi epidemic of the early 90s in Romania, only this time Andri Popa is dressed in a red suit and smart enough to wear gloves so as to not leave finger prints behind.

Different versions abound in most of the parts of Bucureşti I visited during the 2008 holiday period. I think it safe to assume that if some particular cartier wasn’t buried in these plastic icons of the americanized Santa, then they probably had at least a few.

If they were hip, that is; maybe your neighborhood is lame.

It’s always interesting to compare and contrast the residential buildings in a given area. Here, in Decebal, most of the freestanding homes tend to be fairly well taken care of with most of those, in turn, recently refurbished.

As the well-to-do invest in home improvements to increase the value of their asset, some neighbors sit idly by. For example, when you see a co-joined twin, one might be up to par while the other half wallows in the relative decrepitude of yesterdecade.

But I love the rare sight of traditional wooden gates in a wealthier pocket of town.  An artistic piece of craftsmanship serving as understated pride of heritage for an owner mindful of classic style, unlike so many plastic gadget obsessed nouveau riche flaunting their lack of culture.

I did not expect the nicer homes in this area to have gardens growing fruit and vegetables. And not because of the winter cold. Apparently, my preconceptions continue to be challenged as some members of the upper middle class in Bucureşti seem to find value in growing their own produce.

Who can fault them? Not I.

When it comes to technical development of modern signage, the evidence clearly indicates the capital of Romania is far more advanced than cel mai frumos oraş din ţara, gen.

Bumped into the home of the owner of the PC-Cooler.ro website. Seems they’re making out fairly well by selling tacky lights. If you’re thinking of starting a business, maybe an online computer parts store can catapult you among the well-off.

Easily the most dominant object on Mihai Bravu. It may not be taller than the nearby, depressing Ceauşescu apartment blocks, but it stands out by being surrounded by nothing visually competitive.

I’ve no idea which church it is, by the way.  I never crossed the street to get a closer look and find out.  You may be wondering why.  Perhaps I was forgetful.  Some might speculate I was leneş.

Or was it an entirely different reason?

[kml_flashembed movie="http://www.youtube.com/v/h45kDRTfJ7A" height="344" width="425" base="http://www.youtube.com/" /]

People tell me there was a time when fresh fruits couldn’t be had in winter. Certainly couldn’t be had in any variety even when the warmer seasons meant there was something available.

I remember the story told to me by someone in her mid-20s who still remembers the first time she saw an orange… but that wasn’t until after 1989.

Romania can be thankful those days are gone.

The ubiquitous amanet stores and kiosks can be found in every city, town, village, and hamlet in Romania. Often in great numbers. And often in quite proximity to one another.

These are pawn shops the criminals of yore would dump stolen goods. These days folks can pawn jewelry as collateral for a short term loan. If they default, that’s when other people come buy it at discount prices over mall retailers.

Travel tip: snoop around the amanet stores when you’re checking out Romania. Won’t take much of your time. You might just find a remarkable bargain in and amongst the gaudy stuff. Gold is gold, people.

I was struck by the dilapidated sign of a shoe repair shop. I suppose at one point it was shiny and electrified magic drawing in business from all the bloc-dwellers. Now, it’s a sad reminder of a disappearing era fighting for a breath of life between the disposable schlock sold for big bucks and made from toxic materials by small children in Asian sweatshops.

Imagine my surprise! An ecologically-sound dry cleaning company in a rundown strip mall along Mihai Bravu? Couldn’t have guessed that sight was coming. I’ll circle back there in the future to give them a little business and see what they can do.

What’s also interesting to note is the presence of a currency exchange kiosk inside the same store. Whether it has the same owner or not, maybe its presence serves as an indication that there’s not enough dry cleaning business alone to keep the doors open.

If the two merged, would they try money laundering?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I’m sorry, was that offensive? It seems some little teenie boppers watch entirely too much television, then attempt to replicate pieces of what they’ve absorbed. Monkey see, monkey do. Celebrating now what was once understood as a call for help.

The meaning was not heard.

A sociological nightmare of the triviality inherent in the expressions of a new generation. Only, this base glorification has spread to infect your sons and daughters, Romania.

Fact is, these kids have no clue what the gangbanger lifestyle is like and they would not last five minutes on the streets of south central Los Angeles. It’s only fun on MTV. The reality is something these haven’t bothered to comprehend.

On a related noted, I keep waiting for the evolution of spraypaint graffiti from merely mundane tagging to an actual art form. Where are the urban murals that depict the life of being Romanian in the city? Where’s the self-reflection and depth? Where is your story, urban Romania?

And while we’re talking about the ill effects of American urban hip hop influence, I must remark that there are entirely too many idiots running about with NY hats, spun to the side and tilted slightly upward. Most pop celebrities in Romania still have no clue how to develop their own style, but instead insist on copying the dressing habits of whomever sells the most albums in the United States.

Guess what, jackass? You’re not black. You’re not cool. You ain’t down. You aren’t remotely close to hip hop. And you sure as hell aren’t from New York. If you want to wear an overpriced, fashion-disaster ballcap with enough rhinestones to blind Glen Campbell, then conjure up some pride and buy one with a B — for Bucureşti: the city you’re from.

Bout reppin yo town, clown.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

A nice trend is the dramatic increase in bancomat outlets with privacy screens to protect transactions from being spied on. It’s nice to use an ATM without wondering who might be trying to memorize your PIN.

Particularly since Romanians are incapable of forming a straight line but instead build a nice curve by resting their chin on the right shoulder of the person in front. A strange habit of disorganization I’ve never gotten used to these past years.

Meh.

Many of the ATMs now play videos with sound when not in use, essentially being leveraged as advertising vehicles. I’m skeptical if there is a cost-effective ROI which has been documented in any studies.

I suppose when a lack of effectiveness is calculated, costs for this interruption marketing method will be justified by turning up the volume and perhaps projecting the video out onto the sidewalk. But I’m ahead of my time. For now, the chatter is merely interesting at the first couple encounters.

Also of note is the increased trend of bancomat machines proactively warning users to be on the lookout for any unauthorized adapters which might have been attached by thieves to read your card. Nice to see the banks addressing the problem head on. It is, afterall, in their interest to protect their clientele.

If you see a sign saying Exchange or Schimb, then you’ve found a money changer. Here you can change out your dollars or euros for the local currency, Romanian lei. Like the amanet shops, these can be found just about anywhere and are often in clusters.

Don’t ask why every population of 1,000 Romanians need a currency exchange. We can only speculate about the seemingly obvious answer and probably don’t really want to know.

Travel Tip: Be sure you see the 0% commission. If you don’t see that sign, don’t go inside: you’ll be paying an extra bonus fee designed for foreign suckers. Most places have the sign, so just insist on it.

This hand-painted police station sign was in all likelihood made during the communist era.  Interestingly the word Poliţia is easily visible thanks to it’s strong contrast whereas the directional arrow is buried in a swirl of color, as though it were more important under PCR to know the police were present and not so important to know precisely where.

Ho, ho, ho! Maybe the reindeer know Moş Craciun needs a little diagnosis and treatment this winter. At the very least, it’s nice to see the hospital has a sense of cheer. Big improvement over the last time I thought about Romanian health care.

Oh, this one had it all.  An electric star swoosh thing, the fashionable hanging-Santa-on-a-ladder motif, an English-language “Merry Christmas” sign, and rats’ nest of holiday lights.   And the name, oh heavens, the name!

Restaurant Pizzerie.  Hmm, I think it could be a restaurant and they might sell pizzas.  Never know for sure.  Use caution.

Best No 12.  If no 12, then what: 11, 13?  I’m at a loss here.  Aha, I see “No. 12″ as in the ancient sanskrit for Numarul Doisprezece, gen.  So, if we take the inverse derivative of the logical extension, this must be the 12th best pizza shop?

I decided to return at a future date to test that theory.

In all fairness, the many different shopping outlets and malls that comprise most of Bucuresti all seem to carry leftovers once destined for American stock shelves.  I’ve not seen any decorations for sale in romaneşte.  So, the 12th best cannot reasonbly be held responsible for the careless purchasing decisions of many Romanian stores who carry unsold garbage from China because of the likely sky-high profit margins instead of giving enough of a damn about Romania to order products actually intended for their own market.

Gen, merge şi aşa, gen.

This little doozy took the cake.

I mean, come on.  A non-stop internet cafe that also does shoe repair and sells discount houseware.  “Si mai mult!”

But, wait!  There’s more!  That’s right, Bob, call now and you’ll also get these fabulous, professional quality, titanium, hyper-action, genuine Ginsu knives absolutely free.  Order now!  Offer valid for a limited time only, while supplies last, no substitutes, subject to applicable sales tax, just pay shipping and handling, may not be legal in your state.

M & N.  Not M&M’s nor Eminem nor MNM, but M & N.  Sounds kind of like MNN when you say it out loud.  (No, not like JB.)

I’ve made a mental note to go back there and see if there really is internet.  A quick look-see through the geama reveals no computer workstations anywhere.  And there’s no wifi signal coming out of the place.  But, it does say Internet is several placess nonetheless and I can’t imagine they were just lazy enough to leave some years-old stickers and signs up.

Especially when, in addition to the cardboard Santa in the window, they also have the yellow stickering which  says “Merry Christmas” so clearly they’re keeping current on the messaging.  A mystery to be resolved.  Maybe I’ll also learn why they went to the trouble of making a custom Merry Christmas sign instead of Sarbatori Fericite.

Deci, aşa e. Decebal sure is interesting, gen. Ştii, y’all?

A couple weeks ago, one of these trei sori celebrated a birthday.  La mulţi ani, draguţa!

RIA Novosti reports

Russian gas supplies through Ukraine to Bulgaria, Greece, Macedonia, Romania, and Turkey have been halted… Gas deliveries to the Czech Republic have fallen by 75%…

Puţin has been responsible for advocating a policy of holding Europe hostage during the winter.  His current Russian puppet president is pulled by the same strings, lacking the testicular fortitude to act in the manner he is legally entitled to and thereby demonstrating to the world-at-large that Puţin remains Russia’s communist dictator.

Portfolio notes two more victims.

Gas deliveries from Ukraine to Hungary have stopped… Slovakia is prepared to declare a state of emergency…

Apparently, the Russian government believes itself clever. They’ll send out a slew of junior varsity spokespeople to tell various media outlets that, of course, Russia will honor its contractual obligations to provide gas to Europe and would never purposefully seek to kill Europeans in winter so European governments might bow down to Russia’s whimsical ego.

BBC discovered

The move [to cut gas to Europe] came after Mr Putin held talks with Gazprom CEO Alexei Miller.

Twitterbrains who watch TV shows like 24 or, say, Lombarzilor 8 might believe the talking heads who regurgitate press statements as fact.  Those of us who engage in a little critical thinking or favor investigative journalism might not have ever been fooled in the first place. Or so our egos allow us to muse.

Opening our eyes, you can see China View added another to the list of impacted countries.

Russian gas supplies to Croatia were completely cut off Tuesday… The underground storage and the gas produced by the INA cannot make up for the shortfall…

Contracts and obligations mean nothing to Puţin.  He runs roughshod over the Russian Constitution more disastrously than George Bush over the American Constitution, which defies imagination.  Puţin is throwing a temper tantrum over the lack of respect he commands from Europe by cutting off gas supplies that flow through Ukraine to Europe.

Reuters points out Russia is

…threatening disruption as far west as Italy and Germany…

Why?  Simple.

Russia still owns Belarus by the short hairs, but they lost control of Ukraine in 2004.  It was the Orange Revolution which brought some measure of real freedom to Ukraine.  That victory is equally important for Romania as well.

The political party formerly known as Communist now goes by the PSD — “Social Democrats” is their destept euphemism — and has had a corrupt choke-hold on Romania ever since they themselves deposed Ceausescu in order to propel themselves to power.

It so happens that in 2004 the legitimate winner of the Romanian presidential election was being railroaded into accepting a fictitious loss, but the protests in Ukraine brought unprecedented media coverage to the region.  Some of that spilled over into Romania.  Just barely enough international attention that Basescu was able to brush aside the hoţi and claim his rightful victory.

That brought huge changes to Romania.  In the past 4 years, the lives of average citizens all over the nation has changed dramatically for the better.

Russia is unlikely to control Romania again any time soon, but they do scare the world into letting Moldova remain prisoner.  Russia would very much like Ukraine back into its pocket and is quite upset that freedom continues in Ukraine despite the on-going internal political upheavals there.

The current tactic is to cut off gas supplies flowing through Ukraine, the major pipeline for natural gas delivered to Europe.  Puţin’s intent is for Europeans to suffer and die in the cold winter, so they’ll demand their government “do something” about the problem.

…the EU is reluctant to get involved in what it describes as a commercial dispute – reflecting Europe’s own deep divisions on how to respond to Russia.

Naturally, the Russian communists want Europe to become frustrated with Ukraine, to be disillusioned with Ukraine, to break faith with Ukraine, and to abandon Ukraine to stand alone in the cold, dark twilight of this early uncertain century.  They want Ukraine to collapse and return to horrors of soviet life.

The impact here in Bucureşti today?  No hot water as the nation tried to conserve gas for use that the centrala.  It’s the centrala which pumps hot water to residential radiators to keep them warm in the winter.  It appears other hot water uses are considered optional in the hierarchy of priorities.

A wise choice, if one has to make it.  However, Romania seems ill equipped to deal with the shortage.

Politicians need to ensure city administrators have proper plans and procedures in place to swiftly redirect energy supplies from well-established gas reserves when an event like this occurs.  It’s not as though this were completely unexpected.  Russia has been mumbling for quite some time, if anyone will listen.

In order for politicians to react, the people must not tolerate a loss of hot water.  It may be a typical side effect of life in an emerging nation such as Romania, but that does not mean we must suffer in silence.  Elected officials generally understand the need to serve the masses, so it is incumbent on the people to make rational voices heard loudly in demand for proper municipal governance.

One doesn’t want to ignorantly scream “do something” when that something could be just what Puţin hopes for.   Instead, complain about the lack of city energy planning and demand politicians properly direct their administrators to adequately establish reserve distribution procedures if they want your vote next election.

Constructive criticism will get positive results.  Romanians, you deserve better.

Tonight, for now, the hot water has been restored.  At least in the central part of Bucureşti.  I can only imagine half the city is scrambling to take a shower in case the water is out again tomorrow.

“Imports of Russian gas are now reduced by around 75 percent,” Transgaz director Ioan Rusu told Reuters by telephone. “But we can overcome this winter without problems.”

The economy ministry said in a statement that measures had been taken earlier in the day to ensure constant gas supplies to all Romanian consumers.

I’ll take this opportunity to explain to corporate shill Ioan Rusu, the fascist ministrul economiei şi finanţelor Varujan Vosganian, and their shady gaggle of pro-Russian cohorts who suddenly reverse their roles and undermine Romanian policy — no doubt in anticipation of making a large profit from the arrangement — how exactly it is that one determines whether there is a gas problem.

Hop into your tub or shower one Bucharest morning and crank on the hot water; if you suddenly feel as though you can relate to these Romans, well then you know the score, bubba.

This guy apparently felt the need to step outside into the frosty air, wearing only a Romanian-colored track suit smothered in non-Romanian corporate logos and an expensive pair of super ice-grip boots, so that he might wash his windows.

It seemed to take him quite a while to get the job done.  My hunch is that his wet towel was freezing as he went along, thus slowing down progress.  Since there was no particular single spot he was interested in (such as a bird attack), the daring feat kept him occupied a good 30 to 40 minutes.

Personally, I know both you and I would trust our sure-footedness on that frosty slick rail of the rusted out plant hanger to keep us from plunging several meters onto the bouncy, soft pillow-top mattress waiting below.

Cue the circus acrobat music!

There was a Halloween sugar overdose in late October.  A full month later came the unending amounts of turkey during Thanksgiving.  Then was a 30-day mad dash to put lights on the house and presents under the tree for Christmas.

Somewhere along the line, my perceptions improved.  Or the adeptness of soulless marketing shills.  Either way, I noticed that increasingly Christmas would “begin” immediately after Thanksgiving, as every shop in town immediately through up their decorations the very day after Thanksgiving as if to psychologically induce passers-by to empty their wallets for Christmas beginning immediately.

Later in life, I witnessed a change that was definitely new.  Some brazen store marketers would cross the line and beging putting up Christmas decorations a week or so before Thanksgiving, as a way of planting the seeds for the big After-Thanksgiving-Day Sale… which later became known as Black Friday (while a financial etymology, it nonetheless suggests the death of Xmas joy at the hands of blindingly overcommercialized saleshouting).

Last October, in Houston, Texas, I shook my head in disbelief as store after store rolled out the Christmas lights and other Santa-oriented decorations.  Before Thanksgiving.  Before Halloween. Yes, apparently, folks should be buying crap made in China for a full 3 months these days, just to keep up with the nonexistant Joneses of our TV-driven imagination.

But here in Romania, it’s the opposite situation.

Christmas is unable to be disturbed by Halloween or Thanksgiving, since they do not exist here.  And the merchants are only still at the beginning stages of overhyping the buying public into a comatose state of consumerism.

And yet, change creeps in.  Only, it is from the other direction, my friends.  Witness the encroachment found at a local grocery store in cartierul meu.

Uite.