Event in the city of Goga, the musical

In my homeland literature, there’s this stage piece called the Event in the City of Goga. It’s an ugly, depressing thing, telling about the citizen of a small urban unit, which are so bored and dull in their pointless, everyday existence, that they do small, mean things to one another on daily basis just to keep each-other entertained. When something bad happens, everyone gets super excited and pretends now there was some substance to their lives, but in truth everyone is blowing things out of proportion and just continues their absurd and sexually frustrated living in a stiffening, confined homestead. Imagine a small village in which someone hangs themselves and people are so thrilled they practically throw a party. That’s Goga.

Then there’s my grandma. She’s a kinky little old lady, an ex schoolmate of Methuselah, who on occasion throws everyone in an uproar. I love her and am super grateful she brought me up, but she’s a riot. She tends to convince everyone, including herself, she’s having a heart attack or tells everyone she’s having a tumor or suicide or sometimes even tries one a little. In result, everyone is running around, trying to help or cover their ass (she lives in a home which she practically runs as a great inmate godmother would), partially genuinely worried, partially hysterically upset over her fucked up sense of selfishness. Okay, everyone can understand old ladies like attention and since her doctor at times runs all the tests and finds her entirely without an illness, which is a terrible condition to have in a retirement home, or his substitute is another doctor, who is also a young wife of a very famous and utterly disliked politician, which offers granny another opportunity to rain gossip and stories… Well, when she actually gets shipped to a hospital and there IS something to tell everyone, and everybody comes and she has all the attention, she is the happiest little camper there is. Her family (namely me and often my mother, her only daughter) are often seen as two-faced beasts, as she would at times describe us as the worst of human lowlife and at times as the golden saints, the light of her life. Today was such a day. It started okay, then there was the phone call and then there was the event in the city of Goga, the musical. In the middle of the vortex was grandma, soooo happy she created a fuss, practically shining and thrilled.

I’ve said it before I will say it again. When *I* am the most sane member of this family, that is a very interesting day.