Hoje volta o Azul

Tão melhor do que "Porreiro, pá!" (ou "O que este gajo dava numa entrevista com o RAP")

First to arrive is an Allegheny County official who’s name your pooler didn’t get. (There’ll be a lot of that to come).

Then the mayor of Pittsburgh, Luke Ravenstahl and his wife.

Mr. Obama: “Hey Luke, sorry about those Steelers, man.”

Mr. Ravenstahl: “So am I.”

There’s a pause for a while between arrivals, and the First Couple turns to the pool for entertainment.

Mrs. Obama: “You guys are so quiet. Somebody should sing.”

Mr. Obama: “We should have music. Where’s the music?”

Then, “I’m teasing, Emmett, don’t freak out,” looking back at, presumably, the first Music Supplier.

Then, to Mrs. Obama: “No, don’t stress these guys out.”

Long interval, then more arrivals, the director general of the WTO, Pascal Lamy, the chairman of the Financial Stability Board, Pennsylvania Congressman Mike Doyle.

Mr. Obama is teasing Mrs. Obama. “You’re standing on the wrong side of me.” She moves to his other side. He says, “I’m just teasing.” She stares straight ahead with a smile.

(...)

Ooh, next is South African President Jacob Zuma! Which wife did he bring? The youngest of course, Nompumelelo Ntuli, who puts her arm around Mrs. Obama and holds her hand during the photo op. Mrs. Obama tells Mr. Zuma that she expects him to solve the global economic mess “by Friday.”

Next arrives Ethiopian President Meles Zenawi, who clearly did something in the car to anger his wife because she glares at him, Mr. Obama, Mrs. Obama, and anyone unfortunate enough to cross her line of vision.

The Obamas both look slightly taken aback by her. Wonder what happened in the car? The Ethiopian First Couple are quickly dispatched inside.

(...)

Australian head Kevin Rudd gets familiarity and warmth, and brings with him his wife, who brings with her the first cleavage of the evening, in a black suit with low low-cut top. Five-inch stilettos. “Kevin, you finally brought your better half,” says Mr. Obama.

(...)

President of Korea gets a mention because his wife is fabulous in a long dress that comes dangerously close to formal when everyone else is in cocktail attire.

Mr. Obama greets the Korean interpreter, then says to Mrs. Obama: “he’s the best-dressed interpreter.”

(...)

The Indonesian leader is next. Mr. Obama says “Selamat Malam.” Hah! Didn’t know your pooler could speak Indonesian, huh? The Indonesian First Lady is in a long silk tunic with a floor-length under skirt.
(...)

Carla Bruni Sarkozy and Nicholas Sarkozy arrive. Sarko is wearing a suit. Carla Bruni is in a stunning black silk sheath dress, stops just below the knee. She’s holding a green wool scarf, and is wearing Christian Louboutins black evening shoes.

Mr. Obama kisses her four times. “I’m not going to get a chance to see you much.”

(...)

Pennsylvania Gov. Ed Rendell appears not to know that these days people kiss on both cheeks, not one, withdrawing from Mrs. Obama as she is leaning in to kiss his other cheek, so he has to come back in as she’s pulling back. Sigh.

Then he tells Mrs. Obama that Mr. Obama “inspired me when he made fun of me over cheesesteaks so I decided to lose weight.”

Mr. Obama says, “He just lost like 20 pounds.”

Russian President Dimitri Medvedev is next, with his wife, who is in an ultra bright peach cocktail suit with frills around the collar with matching earrings and taupe pumps.

Mr. Obama says to Mr. Medvedev: “Dimitri, come, we don’t have enough pictures together.”

Mrs. Obama tells Mr. Medvedev to “figure it out tonight.”

Then it’s Brazilian President Lula da Silva, with his wife, and, finally, at 7:50 p.m., Japan’s new Prime Minister, Yukio Hatoyama, and his wife, Miyuki, back from Venus. She is in an elegant black suit with a bubble skirt and carries a burgundy shawl.

Mr. Obama hugs her.

“I’m sorry we were late,” she says.

NYTimes, claro.

A minha instrução

Durante dois anos tive como professora de Biologia uma vizinha, que me arruinou a vocação. Sim, a minha verdadeira vocação é taxonomista. Um grande talento para separar, agrupar e dar um nome pertinente às coisas justifica esta imodéstia. O problema é que a professora tinha uma vida familiar conturbada e discutia quase todas as noites, ora com o marido ora com um - ou mesmo com os dois - filhos. Pior, as discussões eram sempre à noite, o que perturbava o sono a mim e à minha irmã e, logo, enfurecia a minha mãe a pontos de bater na parede, barafustar da janela e outras manobras de intimidação. Às vezes, as discussões eram cómicas e nessas alturas a família (com excepção do meu pai, que além de ouvir mal, não se interessava por estas coisas) vinha encostar-se à parede a ouvir os insultos e vingava-se com ataques de riso que eram certamente audíveis do outro lado. Como á óbvio, eu era alvo dos olhares rancorosos da professora. Mandava-me sentar nas filas de trás, nunca me fazia perguntas e, apesar dos testes invariavelmente acima dos 90%, só cedia o 5 no último período. Nem me lembro se tinha jeito para ensinar, desconfio que sim, mas infelizmente não o suficiente para compensar o mau feitio. Uma perda para a Taxonomia.

Figuring out

Muito lindas e muito certeiras.

Visitas que compensam

O que eu ia mesmo à procura era de um post sobre o Del Potro, mas à falta disso valeu por relembrar-me da confusão que me fazia a minha mãezinha ser Técnica de Exploração Postal.

Fã de versões (de uma canção que acima de qualquer elogio)

E o divino original:

Fã de versões (ao vivo, da Cat Power e com histórias)

Ó meus anjinhos da guarda, salvem-me deste ritmo do Demo!

Mobilizamo-nos, pois

Onde é que andam os abaixo-assinados para começarmos a tratar disto? É precisamente o uso democrático do espaço, expressão certeira, que está em causa... Rentabilizem as obras como quiserem, desde que possamos continuar a entrar por ali a dentro sem embaraços e molengar ao sol, descalços e de copo na mão.

É tão linda que se perdoa o mau feitio à chegada

Fã de versões (ao vivo)

Harvest Moon, de Neil Young:


Pearl Jam


Jane Birkin


Cassandra Wilson (que já andou por aqui...)

E o próprio (o grande):

Brinde às súbitas paixões