Tag : Mike Sager Esquire

Ranitii – cei care nu sunt in stiri

stirile anunta mortii din razboaie, accidente. cu cifre, cu emfaza si cu dramatism.
ranitii sunt in viata, sunt victorii ale sistemului (politic, medical) si nu sunt la fel de spectaculosi in dramatism.

dar in viata, cind timpul trece, pentru familiile celor implicati ranitii sunt cei care trebuie cumva integrati in realitatea banala. ranitii sunt cei care se chinuie (uneori ii chinuie si pe apartinatori).
ei trebuie sa traiasca fara o mina -un picior-un ochi-o parte din creier si sa faca fata sistemului care nu are o categorie speciala pentru ei.

nu spunem nimic despre ranitii din razboaiele in care romania a fost implicata recent. i-am anuntat la stiri pe cei care au murit, dar nimeni nu povesteste despre cei care acum se chinuie purtind sechelele razboiului, desi in tabelele militare sunt victorii: traiesc.

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pe 31 august, America a anuntat ca a incheiat razboiul cu Irak-ul. am vrut in ziua aceea sa postez pe blog un minunat text al lui Mike Sager despre raniti. cum nu eram in tara si nici net nu aveam la (foarte) indemina, il postez acum.

se numeste Wounded Battalion si a aparut in Esquire USA.

(…)
Maxwell spots the guy he’s looking for, moves in that direction, his gait powerful but uneven, like Chesty the Bulldog with a limp. He has a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes; there is a large scar on the left side of his head, a ropey pink question mark that runs like concertina wire below the hedge line of his high-and-tight military flattop. He has trouble reading and taking instructions, his short-term memory is shot — it took him forever to build the little fort in the backyard for his son, he had to keep rereading each step of the directions over and over again. He tells his daughter to put refrigerator on her tuna sandwich. He refers to the airport as “the place where people come to fly” and to Somalia, where he once served, as “that country in Africa.” His hernia, which he kept a painful secret so as not to miss his final deployment, is “that problem with your nuts.” He calls the family’s new dog Magic instead of Miracle (though he can remember perfectly the name of their old dog, Bella). His right arm and right leg are functional but “clumpy” — he can still run several miles on a treadmill; he does three sets of ten bicep curls, thirty-five pounds each. Though his IQ, his reflexes, his limb strength, all of his measurable functions are down from their “factory original,” as he likes to put it, he is still within what doctors tell him are “acceptable ranges.” Acceptable to whom? Maxwell wonders. He will never be the same. He will never be as good. It weighs on him, you can tell. He is the type of man who has spent his whole life pushing and striving, trying to raise his score or to lower his time, a man who never took the easy path: As a high school kid, he wanted to play lineman in football, even though he weighed only 140 pounds. He took his undergrad degree in industrial engineering and a masters in management and statistics, even though he struggled with math. He eats “morale” pills (he tried four varieties before settling on Effexor), antiseizure pills (five varieties), more pills every day than he is capable of recalling. All the pills have side effects. The list is a mile long. Here is the list for Effexor: constipation, dizziness, dry mouth, insomnia, loss of appetite, nausea, nervousness, sexual side effects, sleepiness, sweating, and weakness. Ask your doctor if Effexor may be right for you. Oooh-rah. Sometimes, his brain starts to crash — that is his word for it. His speech becomes slurry; he gets this look on his face like a guy who has been up for several days doing alcohol and drugs. He just has to shut it all down and go to bed. It happened earlier this week, after he drove the six hours in his old green Land Rover to Quantico, Virginia, to meet his new boss. He is still on active duty. He’s due to report to his new billet in one week.

Mike Sager, Wounded Battalion
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puteti citi tot textul aici

o versiune mai lunga poate fi gasita in cartea Wounded Warriors.
daca va place textul si vreti sa stiti ce mai scrie Mike Sager il gasiti pe facebook. :)

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despre mama…

la americani a fost ziua Mamei, iar Mike Sager – unul dintre scriitorii mei preferati (e jurnalist in definitia corecta, dar e scriitor prin munca sa) a scris pentru prima data despre mama sa

If not for her, I wouldn’t be a writer. Writing is the thing that I love most in the world. The people I love most are my son and my wife, followed by my parents and my sister. But writing is me. It defines the very essence of who I am, what I’ve been doing every single day for something like 32 years.

That comes from my mother.

I don’t think I’ve ever said it before.

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I remember her always saying whatever she thought—whether it was the right thing to say at the time or not. To this day she has no filter. That she was usually dead-right in her observations lessened the pain not one iota. I freely admit: I seem to have inherited this quality from her, if that’s what you call it. It helps in my work, to be sure. I’m paid to spout off, to speak my mind. If I happen to be tilting at windmills, all the better, it separates me from the pack. Luckily, with writing, there is a delete key. There is re-reading and re-writing the next day. There’s an editor. In person it’s not so easy. Shit comes out of my mouth.

Mike Sager, San diego opinion

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mi-nu-nat. cind am citit mi-au dat lacrimile si mi-am adus aminte ca-l cam iubesc pe domnul Mike Sager. il gasiti, din cind in cind, si in varianta romaneasca a revistei Esquire.

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sunt cea mai norocoasa fata din lume

really.

nu, n-am cistigat la loto si probabil ca nu o sa cistig vreodata desi, din cind in cind, ma mai apuca nebunia si-mi sun prietenii sa-mi spuna niste numere sa joc la 6 din 49 pe norocul lor:)

si dupa reperele clasice care stabilesc norocul omului probabil ca nu ma calific la statutul asta.

dar…. uite ce mi s-a intimplat astazi.

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de dimineata, pe facebook, am gasit urmatorul mesaj

Mike Sager i love getting your posts when i look at my face book page every so often. i have no idea what they say, but visually your message and your picture make a welcome combination…. best
17 hours ago ·

si am explodat de fericire.

mike sager e un jurnalist minunat, unul dintre rarii oameni care pot transforma un text jurnalistic (reportaj l-ar numi batrinii din presa noastra) intr-o opera de arta. e domnul care a scris povestile care stau la baza filmelor Booggie Nights si Veronica Guerin. e un scriitor incredibil de talentat si de rafinat. are toate premiile pe care le poate lua un jurnalist, iar americanii care studiaza tehnicile de scris se inghesuie la cursurile la care e invitat special.

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iata aici una din povestirile din Wounded Warriors aparuta in Esquire, USA, Wounded Batallion
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pentru mine e in top 5 al oamenilor “care as vrea sa fiu cind o sa fiu mare”. i-am citit toate cartile, multe dintre articolele din reviste, ii urmaresc saptaminal cronica pe care o scrie intr-un ziar din san diego. dar,desigur, n-am vorbit niciodata cu el si nici nu speram sa se intimple vreodata asta. i-am dat add pe facebook intr-o seara cind, dupa ce mai citisem un pic din wounded warriors, m-am gindit sa-l googalesc din nou. mi-am zis ca o sa pot urmari mai usor ce si unde mai scrie.
atunci mi-a comentat ceva dragutz pe pagina, de welcome, am zburdat de fericire, dar mi-a fost rusine sa-i raspund. nu stiam ce i-as putea scrie.

asa ca in dimineata asta, mesajul lui mi s-a parut ca si cum as fi visat.
mi-a dat aripi brusc si am uitat de toate necazurile ultimelor zile.
mi-am facut, deci, curaj si i-am raspuns

Cristina Bazavan Mike, thank you. I promise I’ll write in English, from time to time, especially for you. You have no idea how happy I am you wrote me. I have carried a big smile this morning thanks to your comment. Not very long ago I had your Wounded Warriors next to my pillow, each night. I’m a huge fan of yours and it’s a little bit surreal that I’m talking to you. So, thank you.

Mike Sager How nice of u to be so kind. That makes MY morning. Do u have access to my other titles? I could send a care package of course…. best to radu if you see him.
What are you working on these days?

Cristina Bazavan I have ALL your books but I was re-reading Warriors because a friend of mine was writing about a Romanian soldier who died in Afganistan and I was her editor for this story. You have her in your list, Ana Onisei is her name.
Right now I’m writing a speech for a book I have to speak about this evening. I hate to speak in public. But the book is good (not mine, though:) )
Besides your books, I’m reading you column from San Diego newspaper, too:)

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ziua a devenit muuult mai frumoasa, toate proiectele au prins viata, am gasit solutii la lucruri cu care ma luptam de citeva zile. si n-am mai simtit niciun pic de oboseala, m-am dus la lansarea de carte (frumosul sex al barbatilor) unde am vorbit despre sex, of cors. si m-am distrat nesperat de tare pentru genul asta de eveniment: lansare de carte.
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pe drum catre casa, mergind lejer prin ploaie ca sa ma relaxez, mi-am dat seama inca o data ca sunt cea mai norocoasa fata din lume. mi se intimpla mie cumva sa-i cunosc pe toti oamenii aia dintr-un aluat magic pe care-i admir si ii iubesc. (am o lista lunga de asemenea exemple si locale, si internationale)
e absolut incredibil.

desigur am un zimbet cit toata fatza. sta acolo tâmp si nu vrea sa plece.
(si-mi vine sa pun acest post de blog intr-o sectiune necreata inca: “foarte foarte personal”)

mesaj de la Mike Sager pt mine – happppppppppy

“Mike Sager: if you are friends with my man Radu you must be a writer… i am happy to meet you…”

am gasit asta de dimineata, pe pagina mea de facebook, si brusc am devenit cel mai happy om din lume.
multa vreme am dormit cu cartile lui Sager la cap; si-acum am foarte aproape de pat Wounded Warriors si mi se pare minunat ca mi-a acceptat add friends-ul la facebook, ba chiar mi-a si scris citeva cuvinte.
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in fiecare an de craciun, de citiva ani incoace, cind lumea vedea filme cu clopotei si reni, eu ma uitam la Veronica Guerin, film inspirat din viata unei jurnaliste irlandeze. anul asta, n-am mai vzt filmul, am citit articolul lui Sager care a stat la baza filmului. tocmai ce imi luasem din america cartea lui, “Scary Monsters and Super Freaks – stories of sex, drugs, rock’n’roll and murder”

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stiu ca pare o copilarie bucuria asta, dar asta e… cum stiu ca o sa am nevoie de multe ore ca sa-mi fac curaj sa-i raspund…

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zic sa faceti putin cunostinta cu mike sager, in caz ca nu-l stiati. cu un fragment dintr-un articol pe care eu il iubesc f f tare.

You live in your body everyday of your life. Things change slowly, inexorably, in increments too small to measure. You gain weight, you lose weight, your hair falls out. Your skin slackens, your voice thins, your bones become brittle, your ankles swell. Your prostate and a piece of your colon are removed. Your back bends with the weight of gravity and passing time. You wake up twice during the night to pee; once in a hile, you wet your pants. Crossing your legs has become a project that requires your hands; getting out of a chair has become a gymnastics routine; eating a bowl of soup has become a logistical feat. Whenever you go to the store, you can’ remember if you have coffee at home.
(…)

You ask people questions several times over. Sometimes, just as you‘re asking, you realize that you’ve already asked this same question, that you ‘ve already heard the answer. You go ahead and ask again anyway. It’s too embarrassing to do anything else.

(…)
All of this happens; everything changes. But the odd part is, you don’t really notice. You’re aware of it, sure, but somehow it doesn’t integrate. Deep down, to yourself, you are always just you, the same pair of eyes in the mirror, the same familiar voice inside your head still wondering, “when will I feel grown up?”

Mike Sager, Old pentru Esquire 1998

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batrinete

azi e ziua internationala a oamenilor in virsta.

de ce ar sarbatori cineva batrinetea?

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intr-o vreme, cind semnele de batrinete ale parintilor mei deveneau din ce in ce mai evidente, n-am mai vrut sa ma duc sa-i vad. mi-era groaza de momentul revederii (ii vedeam la citeva luni distanta) pentru ca erau evidente modificarile de pe trup, ridurile de pe fata, albitul parului.

acum un an am citit un text al lui Mike Sager cu titlul Old. o poveste despre batrinete, ilustrata prin viata unui batrin de 92 ani. textul, mega premiat, e incredibil de emotionant si de rafinat.

era un fragment acolo care m-a facut sa zimbesc si sa ma gindesc ca, oricit ar inainta in virsta oamenii, ei se simt pe dinauntru ca si cum ar astepta continuu sa se maturizeze; sunt vii, copilarosi, vioi. ei asa se stiu dintotdeauna si, cind nu se uita in oglinda, se minuneaza de ce cei din jur nu li se adreseaza ca unor copii mai maricei.
cu gindul asta mi-e mai usor sa accept ca parintii mei imbatrinesc

You live in your body everyday of your life. Things change slowly, inexorably, in increments too small to measure. You gain weight, you lose weight, your hair falls out. Your skin slackens, your voice thins, your bones become brittle, your ankles swell. Your prostate and a piece of your colon are removed. Your back bends with the weight of gravity and passing time. You wake up twice during the night to pee; once in a hile, you wet your pants. Crossing your legs has become a project that requires your hands; getting out of a chair has become a gymnastics routine; eating a bowl of soup has become a logistical feat. Whenever you go to the store, you can’ remember if you have coffee at home.
(…)

You ask people questions several times over. Sometimes, just as you‘re asking, you realize that you’ve already asked this same question, that you ‘ve already heard the answer. You go ahead and ask again anyway. It’s too embarrassing to do anything else.

(…)
All of this happens; everything changes. But the odd part is, you don’t really notice. You’re aware of it, sure, but somehow it doesn’t integrate. Deep down, to yourself, you are always just you, the same pair of eyes in the mirror, the same familiar voice inside your head still wondering, “when will I feel grown up?”

Mike Sager, Old pentru Esquire 1998

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ma gindeam ca azi e un bun prilej sa ne aducem aminte ca imbatrinim si noi. si sa spunem la multi ani “batrinilor” din viata noastra.

1718

Mike Sager – Old- … povestiri de Paste

Uneori Pastele imi miroase a batrinete, iar Craciunul a copilarie.

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You live in your body everyday of your life. Things change slowly, inexorably, in increments too small to measure. You gain weight, you lose weight, your hair falls out. Your skin slackens, your voice thins, your bones become brittle, your ankles swell. Your prostate and a piece of your colon are removed. Your back bends with the weight of gravity and passing time. You wake up twice during the night to pee; once in a hile, you wet your pants. Crossing your legs has become a project that requires your hands; getting out of a chair has become a gymnastics routine; eating a bowl of soup has become a logistical feat. Whenever you go to the store, you can’ remember if you have coffee at home.
(…)

You ask people questions several times over. Sometimes, just as you‘re asking, you realize that you’ve already asked this same question, that you ‘ve already heard the answer. You go ahead and ask again anyway. It’s too embarrassing to do anything else.

(…)
All of this happens; everything changes. But the odd part is, you don’t really notice. You’re aware of it, sure, but somehow it doesn’t integrate. Deep down, to yourself, you are always just you, the same pair of eyes in the mirror, the same familiar voice inside your head still wondering, “when will I feel grown up?”

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Cea mai frumoasa descriere a batrinetii. Un fragment din Old – profilul unui batrin de 92 de ani – scris de Mike Sager, pentru Esquire Sept 1998.

Articolul e in cartea Revenge of the Donut Boys: True Stories of Lust, Fame, Survival and Multiple Personality

Mi-am adus aminte de el vazind, pe strada, batrinii care pleaca la slujba de inviere.

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