Tot Vogel
My blogs
| Gender | Male |
|---|---|
| Occupation | Ruminator, gardener, photographer, writer, Dean of Regrets |
| Location | Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, United States |
| Introduction | What could I tell of myself without telling of father and his father and his father? And what pain would this bring to me. Let us not talk of me then, but instead of the beautiful vegetables mother fetched each Saturday when I was a boy. Sugar beets so vividly colored, a hue like clotted blood in a black pan, potatoes wet with the earth of their womb, their rooty scent filling the house as mother heaved her sack upon the kitchen table. The southwestern region of Germany was mainly agricultural in those days, a family could exist on a simple diet and never want for what they did not have. Yes, if there is anything to know of me it is of those heavenly vegetables, fresh from the ground, filling my senses as I sat on mother's lap, diligently prying the dark soil from her fingernails with the family mint spoon, even as she wept soft tears over the absent father whose empty bottles filled the sink. |
| Interests | I am most interested in the rare chance that my life may indeed develop beyond the tight parameters that I was offered at birth and have held upon my back throughout the past fifty-three years, grudgingly, bitterly and with a deep taste for revenge on the man that did sow such suffocating horizons in a young mind. Burn his village, bring ruin to his fields, and empty the wine over his floor, so that his boots stick upon entering, leaving him to starve, nourishment just beyond his reach, for pride would never allow father to bare his foot in the parlor, and this be his death. Also photography, writing, music, spoons, antique books, juice-making, kites, needlepoint, looking at tiny things, military badges, origami, herb gardening, and pretty girls frolicking outside my window. |
| Favorite movies | I was never one for the cinema, not since the day my brother Helmut pushed my face into the lap of Helda Ebert during a matinee showing of The Lone Ranger. It was then I learned of things far more attractive than beams of dusty light and sugary toffee. |
| Favorite music | Brahms, The Beatles, Harry Chapin, Julie London, my late Uncle Alder singing “where are the knickers of my lovely girl, where are the tips of her knees, where are her elbows so smooth, where is the fountain in which she stoops to pees?” |
| Favorite books | The Royal Path of Life, The Magic Pudding, Kipps, Biggles, and anything by Studs Terkel. |