What if there was a ridiculously good looking guy and wise acre named the Great Zamboni from Estonia that knew everything google does not? That's me. Ask me anything you'd really like to know- email@example.com
As you know, American Football is so big in Estonia that we were all around my huge 8 inch black and white watching this game yesterday. I was grilling sardines on the radiator of my Datsun b210, we were swilling Prune Vodka in the Ice Sailing clubhouse, and every time the commentators said “the” , “and” or just any words, and we were taking shots- having the best time, what we in hardened Estonia call, “slightly better than cold death.”
But then, these teams go to overtime, and just because Patriots win coin toss, they get ball first. They score a touching down, then I expect the Falconers of Atlanta to get a chance- BUT NO- you America say game over!
? Game over? Other team not even get a chance? I don’t understand your great country. Is it all just rigged? Or just the result of chance?
How can it be fair?
Is it not even an evenplaying field on your playing field? By the smooth skin of Vladimir Putin’s chin, I just don’t get it.
So funny with America, your superbowl a last minute switcharoo too- just like election! I guess it is like my Grandma Shlockma said, “a consistent large pimple you have for a year, better than a surprise ulcer you get once”
I know, usually these columns begin with a question for me, the great one, namely, I, Great Zamboni. But today, in the morning, as I was drinking my dawn elixir of goat pee, Acai berry, and walnut shells ground to a ridiculously fine patina- I heard on the news that in Hungary they are basically saying “fuck you Syrian refugees!”. So I simply want to say FUCK YOU HUNGARY! Open your damn doors!
Now that I have got that rage out of my system, I say, more calmly, that all of us must bear this burden to help these folks find a home. USA included! And guess what? An influx of immigrants does not put strain on an economy- in fact, if anything, it helps it! This has been documented by studies. Germany is very smart. More people, means more people will need haircuts, groceries, marbles and coats- and these new people can work, supplying these new needs! Why can we not let these huddled masses into this country as well?
You know Zamboni himself is an immigrant. I came to this country wearing nothing but my fez and a dream. My dream was to live in a place where I could pursue happiness, breed goats in the fashion I prefer, rip phonebooks apart on the subway, and be who I am. Doesn’t everyone deserve that?
My country, Estonia, has brought to you people many great things, some of which I will announce and revel in, when I perform this week in Berkeley. But did you know, that perhaps most special of all, is the athletic activity of Wife Carrying Competition?
Yes, the men throw their wives over their shoulders, make a race, and see who is fastest- super enjoying! (see Estonian-style of carry here)
My uncle Sol Funkenheimer, or as we kids called him “the luge”, had a saying, “little Zamboni,”, he’d say “love is like a one way ticket to Palookaville, love is also like a box of Triscuits but sometimes you open the box and reach in and find scorpions instead of triscuits, love is a one-way street but people try to drive in both directions on this street, love is like a beautiful fall day and then you get the flu…” and so on.
We could never make heads nor shrimp of what the man was saying, but nevertheless it makes one think.
I say love is truly simple to understand but difficult to do. You have to let go of many things to truly love. Fear. Anger. Distrust. You also have to give much, and then give more. But the giving should not always feel like work. It is also being grateful. Giving foot massages. Doing of laundry too is lovely. But if I had to answer in one word, what is love? I will most certainly say it is this: Mt. Fuji. Very poetic and beautiful and perfect seen from a distance- but when you’re on it, a damn hard climb. I know, i’ve done it- twice!
I once made a film under the acting name of Rudolph Valentino, and in this scene, the nature of love -quixotic and impossible to force- is wonderfully evidenced.
The Jews have given the world many great things: Manishevitz sweet wine, Sandy Koufax, Paul Newman, circumcision (that one’s iffy) and Jokes, and even great zamboni himself (though being an orphan I cannot substantiate this, the rumor began when when I was dropped, at the delicate age of 11, at the doorstep of the Baron Von Rothschild- the basket in which i was wrapped was padded with the Estonian Yiddish newspaper, “Der Shpiel”.
Anyhoo, another donation to us from them is the “Sabbath”, a great break of time from sundown friday to sundown saturday. Thank you Yahweh! These days some people not just Jews are taking a “digital sabbath” in which during that time they use no cell phone or computer- I am going to try this myself. So. if you have any emergency missives for me, Zamboni, please use carrier pigeon or messenger fox for those 24 hours.
I don’t really understand the rules, especially the balletic numerology of the scoring, but I played Cricket today with about 20 or so very excited guys from Pakistan and India and maybe Tibet too, as they had taken over several quadrants of my football field so the cricket pitch was a sort of Rhombus or maybe like 75% of a pie chart and they told me where to stand and when to move and when I had moved far enough they didn’t say “okay!” or “stop!” they said “sufficient sufficient!” and I didn’t understand him at first but then I got that it was “sufficient sufficient” and stopped moving and waited for the ball to come to me right at the spot they wanted me to wait, and the sun was bright with no clouds and they were laughing and excited and the sound of several foreign languages, any foreign language spoken in recreation is nice and sounds so pleasant maybe more so because you don’t know they are really saying “you suck!” or “hit the ball fatty” it just sounds like good sport, like wind or rain, natural, or rather as they say whenever you make a good throw, like “good balling good balling”, when I backed up a fielder, saved a run (run?) by laser-throwing it and knocking down a wicket from center field (center field?) and they shouted “good balling! good balling!” out to me, man I felt right at home..(home- plate?) and I don’t know any of ’em by name, but it is sufficient. -jw
This question comes from Casi in Chicago and is an interesting one.
In short, no. Heck no. Totes, No. But this brings up an interesting question.. what does it really entail, this being selfish? I think we wrongly associate a healthy selfishness with too much ego.
In college, at Tech. University of Southern Estonia, where I majored in all-knowingness, my friends derided me for being so selfish as to be always planning and making goals for the gradual Zambonification of earth. But I would try and tell them, “you are in law school and will one day make 500$ Krons just to answer the phone, I am only great zamboni and I will only eat from the wisdom I collect in my head!”
My friend Sweet Stache is a fine actor in Estonian soap opera, “The Young and the Fruitless”.. but before his success, he was always hesitant to push his career; he did not want to come off as selfish, ego-driven, or over-ambitious.
The long and short of my point is this Casi; if you will not be for you, then who will be for you? Why is your health wealth and success less important than anyone else’s? I am as valuable an asset on this planet as anyone else. So are you! The old Estonian copy editors have a saying, “God doesn’t need spellcheck” because you see, his gift of health to us has a purpose. And as the old Estonian spear fishermen like to say, “we will eventually all find our porpoise”
What more can I say- great Zamboni who is me finds myself saying this to many people over a course of a day.
Is true, no? The way you scramble an egg is the way you are a husband is the way you use a chainsaw is the way you clean the bathroom.
Take my mom-
No seriuously, the mother of Zamboni has 14 kids in all but you know when we needed a new pair of pants, she would crank up her shuttle loom, load it with hemp thread and start to weave, moving the warp and woof with the fourteen footpedals of this strange contraption- and seven hours later we had a new tanktop or briefs, trousers or if we did our chores and cleaning the goat urine pails very thoroughly, she might make us an ascot, even.
And she is like this in life, always slow patient and deliberate with everything. It makes drivers following her crazy with the honking of the horn, but it also was a blassing as she would do very many things that required lots of patience like making homemade yogurt or rustic bread that had to rise many days before being baked.
So the next time you do something small, think about what it says about how you are doing the Big.