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EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK:
VINCE'S GYM
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
I Get A Job With The
Federal Service – 11/15/1983
I Help Neo Move
Neo
knocked on the basement door.
“Hey mate,” greeted Neo.
“Hey Neo, what’s up?”
“I was wondering if I could get yer help with moving out of my
place?”
“You mean I finally get to see where you live as you are moving
out?”
Neo mocked a look of contrition.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t bother ya, but I needed some help with a heavy
piece of furniture.”
“I will be sorry to see you move.”
“I’ll be back; I just got to put my stuff in storage because I
will be going on a walkabout for awhile.”
“For how long?”
“No telling.”
“Well I will miss you.”
“Come up to the house I would like to introduce you to Brandy.”
“I told you that she was born in Korea and is trying to teach me
Korean didn’t I?”
“Yeah ya sure did.”
Neo
follows me up to the little bungalow that Brandy stayed. She
heard us come up the walkway and she was waiting at the door.
“Neo this is Brandy”
Neo takes Brandy’s hand and gives a warm shake, something he
rarely does.
“Mannaboeo ch’am pankapsupnida”
(I am pleased to meet you),” he said..
Brandy
and I were both surprised by this unexpected greeting to her in
Korean. She looked flattered and flushed.
“Neo ssi annyonghi chumusotsupnikka”
(Good morning Mr. Neo),” she responded.
“Odiso osotsupnikka.” (Where are you from),” she asked?
“Australia so watsupni.”
“Oso Turo osipsiyo”
(Please come in),” invited Brandy.
“Masilgot chom katta turilkayo” (May I offer you
something to drink),”, asked Brandy?.
“K’op’i rul choha hasipnikka (Do you like coffee),” she
asked?
“Ahh…, Neo hesitated.
“Ch’a?”
“Ne.” “Taedanhi komapsupinda (Yes. Thank you very
much),” I would love tea,” said Neo..
I bragged to Neo that Brandy also lived in Thailand and that she
could speak a bit of it.
Without skipping a beat, Neo said, “Yoo tee nai hong nam?”
Brandy looked amazed but regained her surprise and told him wear
the bathroom was in Thai.
*“*Max, he can speak Thai also.”
“I must say I know Neo is smart, but I had not idea that he
could speak this many languages.” “I know he reads Bulgarian and
German books and speaks Spanish.”
“Whoah,” she blurted out.
When Neo came out Brandy handed him the tea she had prepared for
him. For us she made a dark rich Tanzanian coffee.
Neo sips the tea and says, “A-roi (Delicious)!”
Brandy giggled and said, “Thank you.”
“Neo where did you learn Thai and Korean?”
“Oh, ya know, I have done long walkabouts in both countries.”
“Brandy has also spent a lot of times in other counties –
besides Korea and Thailand, she has lived in Tanzania for about
seven years.” “She worked as a safari guide.’
Neo looked pleased, “Ah Tanzania, I love that country.” “I spent
lots of time doing a walkabout visiting Zanzibar, Tobara, Arusha,
Mtwara, and lots of time in the capitol Dar Es Salaam.” “I also
spent time in Nairobi, and on the coast in the towns of
Malindi, and Lamu.”
Brandy was impressed.
“My family also lived in Kenya and Ethiopia when we were
younger” “What did you do mostly on your travels in Kenya and
Tanzania?”
Neo said, “I spent lots of time living with the Masai people.”
They are fierce warriors.”
Brandy gave Neo an odd appraising look, much the same way she
would look at Harry when she suspected that Harry was
bullshittng her.
“Ninatoka Kenya, (I am from the Kenya),” she tested.
“Jambo,” greeted Neo.
“Jambo (Hello),” echoed Brandy.
“Jina lanko nani,” he asked?
“Jina Langu ni Brandy Powers.”
I could tell they were both getting a charge out of their
exchange.
“Mombasa iko wapi,” she asked”
“Kenya.”
“Ninaweza kusema kiswahili (I can speak Swahili).” “And
you?”
“Hivi, hivi… kidogo, (So, so…a little),” he said.
“Ninaweza kusema kiswahili, yote,” she added.
“Nzuri (Good),” complimented Neo.
“Asante Sana.”
“Karibu (You’re Welcome),” he said.
“Unaishi wapi?”
Neo leaned forward, “Up in the McKenzie bridge area, on the
river.”
Brandy giggled in pleasure. I could tell that she was intrigued
by Neo and that she was more than A little attracted to him.
She gushed, “Oh my God, it is really a pleasure to be talking
Swahili after all of these years.”
Neo said, “Ndiyo (Yes), I feel the same.’
I could see that Brandy had a impish grin. I knew she was not
through with her entertainment.
“Khoon tam-ngan a- rai?”
He tilted his head surprised that she had switched back to Thai.
I knew it was Thai since to me it is very distinctive from
Korean, or Swahili…even though I had no clue as to what was
being said,
Neo leaned forward his eyes glowed with pleasure.
“Pood eek Krung (say again please),” he asked.
Brandy repeated herself, “Khoon tam-ngan a- rai?”
“Hm ah, Phom ben, he starts to count off with his
fingers, nug too-ra-git, chang mai, por kruaw, mhor, khon
khai yaa, pa-nug ngan dub plerng, khar rat-cha garn, khon song
aek-ga san, dtum ruat, nug khaaw, ta-hanm, nug, rean, khoon kroo,
nug khian, loog jaang, nai jaang… and ah... nug rong.
Then Neo said, something I could not even hear but he and Brandy
laughed loudly at his last assertion
Neo asked, “Besides Swahili, Thai, Korean, English what else do
ya speak?”
Brandy said, “I majored in French when I lived in Tanzania.”
Neo starts to speak what sounded like fluent French. He joked
around with his usual imitations of Pepe’ le Pew,
“I am ze locksmith of love, no?” The Neo does his
silly Peter Sellers Inspector Jacques Clouseu imitation and then
Jacques-Yves Cousteau. I don’t think I have ever seen Neo so
on. I could tell that he said something very flattering to
Brandy. Neo was not getting out of line, but I must say, he was
much more engaging with Brandy than I notice was his habit with
women. He was often so neutral that at times I wondered if he
was asexual.
I was chomping at the bit to see where Neo lived and to the task
done since I had lots of studying to catch up on. I said,
‘Okay…okay you old smoothie, we got to get you moved.
Neo said, “It was a real pleasure ta meet ya Brandy…Vinny has
got himself a real catch.”
Brandy flushed brightly. “Asante Sana”
“Karibu (You’re welcome),” said, Neo.” I hope to visit
with you and Vinny again.
“Tafadhali (Please),” said Brandy.
“Neo said, “Tutaonana (So long).
“Tutaonana,” echoed Brandy.
I
followed Neo over to his place on my chrome pony. He had been
renting a place up the McKenzie River. It was just a little
one-room cabin not far from the river. I looked around the room
and was amazed on how uncluttered it was. Despite the books,
art, and a few articles, it had the look that the person living
here could leave on a moments notice and with little fuss.
The cabin was equipped with a fireplace, a propane stove, only a
few articles of pots, pans, dishes and just two drinking mugs.
In the cabin there was only a small table two chairs. A futon
with a bedspread that looked very tribal, although of what tribe
I couldn’t say. Around the small clean room were a few primitive
weapons hanging on the cabin walls such as various boomerangs,
spears, a blowgun, a long bow and a few other odds and ends type
weapons.
A few other items on the wall were some unusual art work. There
was an easel with a painting that looked like it was freshly
done. Also around the room were a few sculptures of stone and
wood-carvings.
Neo’s few pieces of furniture were warm rustic and looked finely
crafted. I saw a coffee table, a few bookcases two end tables
and a huge Amwar which was the gold tooth of his
collection of furniture. The Amwar had beautiful carved
designs and inlay of semi-precious stones.
I said, “All of your furniture looks very handsome…is it
handmade?”
“Yes, I made them in my spare time, except the Amwar which was
made by an Amish friend.”
“Of course…what was I thinking,” I snickered?
“Did you get the art pieces from local artist or from around the
globe?”
Neo looked shy…modest.
“Let me guess, you created all of your art…the paintings, the
sketches, the sculptures and carvings.”
Neo shyly said, “Guilty…or at least with most of them.”
Lying around here and there were various musical instruments
many that I did not recognize and the few that I did recognize,
but I had no idea of their names. I saw a saxophone, several
wind instruments, Drums, bongos, a banjo, gourd rattles and
gourd drums and an exotic looking xylophone made from
mahogany and aluminum rods, which Neo said was from Java. I
asked Neo to identify the rest of the exotic instruments. There
was an instrument that Neo called a kalimaba or an
Indonesian thumb piano. A Balinese kelempug made of
mahogany wood and iron which he said had been beaten with a
bamboo stick. A Japanese flute which he called a
Shakulute, which he said, was made from Tiger bamboo, (What
ever the hell that is.), and it was bordered in places with what
appeared to be silver. Next he showed me something he called a
khim which was made from wood and brass and it had a
white interior. This instrument was from Thailand and it was
adorned with the images of angels, or as the Thai people call
them devas.
Another instrument from Thailand was a three string called a
sa-lor. Then he showed me something called a sueng klang
and this had four steel strings stretched over a teak body and
held with iron pins. He said that in the past the men of that
country would play this instrument to flirt with women. He said
that two strings comprised each note, (Whatever that means).
He showed me another flute from Thailand which he pulls out of a
cotton bag and this he called a klui kloud made from
tamarind and rosewood. Neo told me that the wood had to be dried
for almost two years before it is shaped. After it is shaped it
is dried for another year.
I said, “Let’s hear you play it.”
Neo puts it to his lips and his eyes get a faraway look to them.
The music that came forth was beautiful and melodious. He puts
the flute back into the bag.
I look over at an instrument -- he sees my glance and picks up
what he called a mandolin which he picked up from where he lived
in many years previous. He was caressing the wood showing me how
the warm grain of cedar pinewood flowed across the voluptuous
body of this hand made beauty. He places the instrument into a
case with apparent reverence.
He
picked up another instrument that was absolutely unique looking
as well as beautiful. He explains to me that it is made from
seasoned teakwood with a goatskin surface. It had a steel finger
board with twenty-five steel strings. He called this musical
instrument a sarod and he said that a mate of his named
Baba Alauddin Khan who had passed away twelve years
previous had made this for him personally as a tribute to their
friendship.
Neo said, “Most times I play this beaut I get a bit choked up.”
“It makes me think of my old friend Khan.
I
looked over and saw another xylophone and asked where it was
from. Neo told me it was from Indonesia and it was called a
gangsa jongkok. He said that in Indonesia this instrument
was not just played for pleasure by was mostly used in ritual
ceremonies and he said that the master craftsmen that made these
considered them to be a work of art and an object of devotion.
“You didn’t make most of these instruments,” I asked with
good-natured sarcasm?
“Agh, don’t be a smartass, he joked, I have tried to make these
instruments and I do a fair job at it…but almost all of these
have been made by mates of mine who are master craftsmen.”
“Some of them are the best in their country.”
Neo
picked up another instrument he called a kecapi which he
said was a traditional Balinese zither. He was showing me
that the sound box was comprised of three tiers of mahogany
glued together and finished with an outer layer of plywood.
Steel strings were stretch over the body of the kecapi
and when Neo took a pick to the strings the melody that sprung
forth was haunting.
I saw the harmonica that he had brought with him and played
during the day we tree planted together.
“Where did you get that harmonica…by a master craftsman from
Madagascar,” I quipped?
“Nope, this I got from a pawn shop in New Orleans when I was
studying blues and jazz music.”
“I love that harmonica, I said, one day I hope to learn how to
play one.’
He
showed me several more instruments of which I cannot remember
their names because the note book in which I wrote the names
down so many years ago was destroyed by the elements.
I said, “You have showed me instruments from all over the world;
don’t the Aboriginal people have musical instruments.” “They
must be wonderful and strange.”
“They are strange, he laughed, come over here and see fer
yerself.”
He pulled what looked like a simple wooden slat, aside from a
carving of a totem animal of some sort. The slate was about
sixteen inches in length and about three inches wide. A long
length of corded rope was affixed to it. It was a very strange
looking and seemed to be the furthest thing from a musical
instrument that you could ever imagine.
“What in God’s name is that,” I asked?
“That my favorite American-Italian mate is what the white
Aussies call a Bullroarer.”
“A what?”
“A Bullroarer.”
“It’s just a friggen carved piece of firewood,” I exclaimed! “It
looks like it would make a better weapon than a musical
instrument.” “How can that thing make music?”
Neo took me outside. He held the cord a distance from the slate
of wood and then he started to whirl the slat, sorry,
I mean the Bullroarer around over head. As he got the
bullroarer to pick up speed he allowed the length of rope to
stray outwards. I noticed that the bullroarer generated an odd
pulsating sound. I also noticed that the pulsating frequency was
proportional to airspeed.
“The bullroarer is used during many initiation rites…especially
when young boys are being initiated into manhood.”
“You said that white Aussies call it a bullroarer…what do your
people call it,” I asked?
“Actually, the real name is considered a sacred secret which is
never to be shared with a non-aboriginal person.”
“Oookaay…,” I said puzzled.
“Let’s see some other instruments from your people.”
Neo went over and pick up two sticks that appeared to be made
from some sort of fine-grained hardwood. They were about eight
inches in length and just under an inch in diameter and the
sticks eased down to more of a point at one end of each stick.
Neo started to strike the sticks about midpoint on the sticks
and this produced a very loud and sharp sounds.
“I can see why you left Australia…you were starved for real
music.”
Neo laughed, “The sound from these sticks stands out above the
noise that the didgeridoo make.”
“I can’t wait to hear the noise that your did ya gerri curl
makes,” I kidded.
Neo pulls out a very crude and primitive trumpet looking
instrument. It was about five feet in length and had a flared
end. He told me that the wooden tube is hollowed out by white
ants (termites) from the trunk of one of the small trees in the
region he was from. The appropriate trunk is cut down and then
it is clean out with a simple stick and the outside is smoothed
out by scraping and the painted with traditional designs. Then
the blowing end is smoothed up a bit when beeswax is added.
Neo started playing the didgeridoo and I must say, some very
unusual sounds were made. I cannot begin to describe them.
“Yes…you left your homeland in search of music.”
Neo said, “Hey, we also have the gum-leaf.” “Mostly it
makes sounds like a cockatoo”
“You’re making my point for me Neo.”
We walked around to an out building which Neo had kept a shop.
In the shop were tools and equipment that a black smith would
have lusted for. He had all sorts of welding equipment, leather
working equipment, and jewelry making equipment. In the corner
were sand molds for molten metal or glass or some such shit to
be poured into.
Evidently Neo was more that a regular arts and crafts hobbyist.
In the opposite corner I saw that he a had a wooden Whin Chun
dummy that I had seen Bruce Lee use in his films and there was a
heavy bag hanging and a speed bag. Nearby was an elaborate squat
rack with lat pull down apparatus and a heavy duty bench that
could be adjusted to various positions. On the rack and the
bench was a shitload of heavy weights on two Olympic bars and
there was a rack of dumbbells that I wished I had at my gym.
They went all the way up to two hundred pounds in weight.
In amazement I exclaimed, “Holy shit Neo!” “Who do you got
working out here…Bill Kazmier and Chuck Norris?”
Neo looked a little shy and evasive as he said, “Ah, well ya
know Vinny…a mate of mine needed a loan so he stored his stuff
here as collateral.”
Because of his manner I was feeling uncertain, I looked over at
the equipment and I noticed that the equipment looked like it
was free of dust which meant it was being used regularly. “Not
by Neo, I thought, there is way too much weight of the bars for
Neo to be fooling around with.”
I don’t see any dust on the equipment, it looks like it has been
used,” I accused.
Neo said, “Ah, well my friend still comes over to workout.”
I looked over at the bar on the bench stands and I saw that six
hundred pounds was on the bar. On the squat rack twelve hundred
pounds was on the bar. The only way his friend was able
to get that much weight on the bar was because of the several
custom made hundred pound plates that were not much thicker than
the usual forty-five pound plates but were much larger in
diameter.
I said, “If your friend is lifting those weights then he must be
Bill Kazmier…he is the only person on the planet that is able
to lift those weights.”
“I put those weights on the bars to clean up the floor.” “Just
storing them there.”
That made sense to me, because I had occasionally done that to
clean up the floor at the gym. Most people however did not like
to store their weights that way, because you had to take them
all off when you went to warm up for your workouts.
“That makes sense,” I said.
Neo and I walked back into his cabin. I looked at the books in
his bookcases. He had many books. Most of them were written in
English. A few were written in Arabic. He had an old copy of the
Koran written in Arabic and a poet by the name of Rumi. (I read
some of Rumi’s stuff years later translated and edited in
English). Neo also had books written in Latin and Greek, one
book was the Iliad, and other the Odyssey. He had books
that were written in German by Friedrich Nietzsche, Herman Hesse,
Franz Kafka and lots of books on medical information such as
exercise physiology, and sports medicine.
I saw books that I had to write down on the pretense that I
would one day be inspired to read and they were titled “Corpus
Scriptoum Latinorum”, ‘Adversus ludaeos’,
Testimonia ad Quirinum’, Epistulae morales ad
Lucilium’, Apocolocyntosis divi Claudu’, De
Clementia’, ‘Hercules Furens’.
I saw a book called ‘Beowulf’ which was written in what
Neo called ‘Old English’, I could barely understand it. Another
book had a title with the oddest letterings – it looked like
this --
Гулаг
Archipeligo,
and it was written by some guy named Alexander Isayevich
Solzhenitsyn and he had a book tiled
Война
и
Мир
by Tolstoy, all in Russian.
“Neo, why do you have all of these books
written in foreign languages?” “Don’t they have these books
translated into English?”
“I like to read books in the original
language that they were written in.”
“Why is that?”
Neo tilted his head to the left as he said,
“Because every language has words, concepts or ideas that do not
translate very well.” “It is stimulating ta pick up and feel new
concepts that are not easily available in anything but the
language first described.” “In fact, some concepts are
practically impossible ta translate over.” “Yer woman Brandy
would tell ya the same thing.”
“Brandy has mentioned that to me when she
reads subjects in other languages.” “I first learned this when
she reflexively yelled out a Korean word I had never heard
before — it is best pronounced Chingerrla.”
Neo laughed hard and slapped his thighs.
“Yes I am familiar with that word.”
“Brandy first used the word when she met a
guy that she had thought was especially repulsive.” “She
actually shivered in revulsion when she said it.” “I asked her
to explain to me what the definition of the word was and she
said our English word for it would be gross.” “She said that the
best description of this word was to imagine being in a cold
dank pitched-black cellar and then she told me to imagine how I
would feel, if inadvertently my hands went into a slimy bag of
blood worms.”
“That’s a pretty good description, but one
good Korean word describes adequately what she tried to share
with you in over forty English words.” “That is one of many
examples.”
“Learning new languages helps ta expand yer
brain, it forms yer ability to conceive of other cultural ideas
and conceive of new ones.” “If ya get the chance ya need to read
Noam Chomsky’s stuff, he is a linguist from MIT and one of the
greatest political and social intellects of our time.” “He has
many interesting insights on language.”
“Let me guess, he is also one of your
mates.”
Neo laughed, “I happen to know Noam…he’s a
great bloke and one of my greatest mentors.”
I chewed on what I had seen in Neo's
residence and what we have talked about.
“Are you a super genius or something?”
“Neo looked startled and then amused.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” “You remind me a lot of
Brandy with your books and musical instruments, your artwork,
and furniture building.” Brandy is multi-skilled like you, but
not a radically so like you are -- she has a one hundred and
sixty-two I.Q.”
“I don’t think I am a super genius Vinny, just a semi-bright
bloke who is obsessively curious and driven to learn and
experience more of life.
“Next to you and Brandy I feel retarded, I laughed, I mean
supposedly according to my I.Q. scores I shouldn’t have anything
to be ashamed of, yet, my grammar is for shit, my writing is
barely coherent, I have anti-math skills, and since I reached
puberty I can no longer draw much less paint works of art like
you and Brandy.” “Both of you sculpt magnificently-- while my
clay sculptures of anything I attempt always end up looking like
Mr. Potato Head or a fucking ashtray.” “You and Brandy play several different musical
instruments—while I can barely whistle.” You and Brandy can
read, write and speak several languages fluently – while I am
only semi-fluent in my native English, Shit, when I talk, I sound like the love child of
Pee Wee Herman and Sylvester Stallone on crack.” “Both of you
have many handyman skills – while for me changing a light bulb
or checking the oil on my vehicles is the extent of my handy
skills.”
“Brandy and I have had certain advantages that you have not
had,” offered Neo. “Brandy and I from a very early age have been
exposed to several languages.” “I was exposed to English and the
language of my grandfather’s tribe, and to the different
dialects of many of the other tribes we socially engaged with.”
‘I had the added advantage of my mother and father also fluent
in other languages and these they encouraged us to learn.”
“What about your musical skills?” “Where did you learn to be so
musical?”
“Well, admittedly, as impoverish as our musical curriculum
seems, it is still music and my parents also played a few
different instruments.” “The point I want to make is that
children exposed to art, languages, and music at an early age
have a distinct advantage over children who do not.” “Exposure
to multiple languages, music, art and lots of physical play
increases their intelligence.” “Children exposed to this type of
education often fare better at math and other areas of
intelligence that most people would not expect.”
“You have put a lot of effort into just learning and gathering
skills.”
“Yeah, well, we only have one life – or at least we should
operate on that premise” “It’s also about gathering personal
power and increasing yer pleasure in very functional ways.” “I
wouldn’t worry about yer intelligence, you have plenty of drive
and ya have more curiosity than most people.” “If ya didn’t have
anything going for ya, a woman like Brandy would not be hooked
up with ya.” “You must have something on the ball.”
“Well, I guess being good at lifting weights and loving making
are two fine skills to start with.”
Neo put only his Aboriginal weapons and his musical instruments
into the Amwar, since they were given to him. He was going to
leave the rest of the furniture and his paintings on the walls.
I mentioned that since he was going to just leave the furniture,
I
wouldn’t mind taking the end tables and bookcases and a few
paintings to boot. He told me that he had promised to leave
mostly everything for the owner of the cabin. He did however
give me one of his paintings. It was a nice scenic picture with
a North American Indian princess.
This I gave to my mother since the Indian maiden looked a lot
like my mother when she was young. Unfortunately, the painting
was lost in a house fire that my mother and Jake suffered (Along
with my paintings that I bought from Mexico). Once we loaded his
truck I followed him to a storage unit facility and we stowed
most of his goods away.”
When we got done, we went for coffee at the A and W Restaurant
where he had first taunted Harry a year and a half previous.
Finally we said our goodbyes.
Neo said, “No worries mate, I’ll likely run into ya one day.”
“I’ll be back, I just don’t know when.” I’ve enjoyed our
conversations and camping trips.” Remember to get yer day ta day
affairs in order if ya want to gain knowledge and personal
power.” Neo left and I felt sad….like an older brother leaving
home to go to war.
I went back home to Brandy.
She said, “Don’t be sad Maxie, I’m sure he will move back here.”
“I must say I can see why you are so fond of him.”
All of a sudden I remembered that she had
asked Neo some questions in Thai. Neo had counted off on his
fingers as he was reciting to her in Thai. I asked her to share
with me what they had said.
She said, “I asked him what his occupation
was and he gave me a list of some of the occupations he has
worked at during his life.”
Curious I asked, ‘Well what were they?”
Brandy said, “Neo said that he has been a
businessman, carpenter, cook, doctor, druggist,
employee, employer, engineer, fireman, government official,
policeman, reporter, soldier, student, teacher, writer, and
singer, but not a good one.
*Brandy nicked named me
Max or Maxie. It her my first name Vince or Vincent did not
sound right rolling off her tongue to either her or me. She had
trouble with the r's or l's of my middle name, so she gave me
christened me Maxwell... Max for short. Maxwell because she
claimed that i was like Maxwell House Coffee.... Good to the
last drop!
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