Prologue

OLD WANDERINGS AND NEW EXPERIENCES
Don’t Make Me Start

This May, snow has picked the raspberries around Arilje, and the wind has moved garages into neighboring alleys in Jagodina. We didn’t have any floods, but we are drowning in a social shallow. Those who lose easily, but know where they’re heading, are dominant on the public scene. An open competition is foreshadowed for a Serbian heroic film about Vlah-Alija. The Football Association has unanimously concluded that defense is the best forward and that fixed games, which (of course) never happened, contribute to planning and predictability. Which is an important element of the European business environment. Our country has turned into a provincial bookmaker, where everyone wins small and short-term, except for Serbia, which loses big and long-term. Amateur bakeries and pharmacies, second-hand ideas and new promises are still blossoming. We are living on the expense of our great grandchildren.
”I’m gone, this is not for me”, said the professional vagabond of National Review, multiplied in several copies. He took his rucksack, camera and footworn sneakers. The old hit echoing in his headset: ”Oh, girl from Rovci, are you facebooking with your sheep?...” And so he left.
Thus we arrived to Suvobor, the first Serbian mountain beach. We were in the Slanci, property of Chilandar, monastic community near Belgrade for a week. We counted horse and human powers at the ”Štraparijada” in Ruma. Discussed how the Serbian orphan TV show World of Fishing conquered the planet. Reminded of the heraldry history of Belgrade, Manak’s House and zenitist Ljubomir Micić. Bid farewell to Bata Živojinović, Prince Aleksandar Pavle’s Karađorđević and Žarko Vidović. Talked to Jovan Zivlak and Marina Maljković.
Many more things were rolling in our heads, but we remembered the wise words of Nikita Mikhalkov’s movie character: ”Hey, people, don’t make me start!”