Lost in Bubenec

One constant argument in my family is public transport vs. driving.  I opt for public transportation whenever it’s possible.  To me, it’s one of the joys of living in Prague, and it’s distressing to me to watch the car culture slowly wash over the whole planet, like the ocean’s going to wash over Florida in  a couple of years if we don’t get our shit together.  My interests are not all green, though.  It just seems more convenient to me.  You don’t have to find parking, you don’t have to worry about getting into an accident, you don’t have to buy gas.
My wife, on the other hand, prefers to drive if she can rationalize it in any way.  Of course, the kids are on her  side.
I was pleased, tonight, that she agreed to come to my poetry reading tonight, so not too bothered that she insisted on driving.  I objected, but it was token.

Problem is, we didn’t know exactly where it was.  We were driving around, higher and yon, and not getting any closer, so we parked and went looking on foot.  It was kind of drizzly, but it had stopped raining.  We found the street, which runs along the park, there’s not much there on either side that has an address, but on the map it looked like the place was in the park, but it wasn’t.

We came to a house with  what I thought was the address, but it was clearly just a house and nobody was home.

Eventually found the place, we were well late but it was O.K.   The guy before me was reading a short story, I did my five or six minutes of  poems, there was a scene from a play, intermission, and then a classical guitar player who was kind of awesome.  Incredibly fast fingers, but he also had a wood thumping, finger snapping thing going on.  It was a classy act.

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