In the title for this blog post I should have added 'and many gratuitous photos'. Because the story I want to tell tonight has nothing to do with snowy pictures. Those are here for my own happy self because I simply love the fact that it's snowing right now, in front of my window. My family can't see the white flakes any more without having the feeling that winter will never end, but for me it's simply wonderful. But then, I had a cold and frosty winter only intermittently.
Today I want to tell you a short story about 'our' crazy Bus(c)h.
You had George W. I'll grant you that.
But we had nobody-ever-knew-his-name-crazy-Busch. Son to one of the village natives. He was a genius in maths and went to University right after High-school to study complicated mathematical problems. I don't know if something tragic happened in his family at that moment, or if University life was just too much for him.
He just didn't make it, mentally. He stopped washing, always wore a woolen hat and a huge sports bag. Never looked up at somebody. He was probably afraid of everyone and everything.
But he continued to go to University, at least sometimes. Took the bus from our village to the city, sat in at mathematical classes. Took the bus back to our village. Never spoke to anybody.
The fact that he couldn't deal with water or electricity bills any more left him with a problematic body odor. Which finally got so bad that he was forbidden to take the bus.
But before that we would instantly know that he had entered the bus we took back from school (we don't have the yellow school bus system. We just took the regular city buses), everybody would instinctively duck. The smell was that bad.
Then he would appear, woolen cap on his head and sports bag in hand.
Huge sports bag that he never let go of.
One day a friend of ours asked him what he had in his bag.
'Candy bars and my soul' was what he replied.