Absinthe Minded Journal

Later at the hotel I found that the town was a good 15 minutes away by autobus, and the next bus will leave the train station at 13:00 hours. It was 12:00 and Sandra told me to wait a moment, that there is a possibility that someone from the hotel will drive me.

I guess all these years staying at the Hotel Krone since the 1990’s has placed me in V.I.P. status. Or do they just feel sorry for me? Or am I at the Krone in Solothurn? Die Krone – remains ever so, the place made to work like a Swiss clock.

I decided to have lunch, some sandwiches on the St. Ursen Kathedrale steps. A wedding was taking place. At the end of the procession, 50 balloons where let go toward the heavens. In bright clothes and smiles, new life and different challenges begin anew.

At 1:00 p.m., I waited on the hotel lobby couch. After some hustle and bustle, amidst the busiest day at the hotel with an overflow of guests, walkers, special catered events upstairs:

look who has unshielded herself to drive me to Derendigen: Marie-Therese Dorfler, the proprietor. The remaining owner of the hotel is staying afoot in her normal strong, defiant and wonderful nature.

I was in shock, first the police roust her awake at 6:00 a.m. because of my error, now she will drive me to retrieve my auto on the busiest day. What a pain in the ass I am.

This is a sympatique damen. I was certain it would be a staff of the hotel, but of course, they are all working.

First of all in America, an owner of a hotel would not have been working Sunday to save a guests car; the car would have just been towed away, that’s it. Second, in most circumstances, the car would not be possible to retrieve until Monday.

But I am in Solothurn, where all the possible becomes impossible, then all possible, erasable, deleting yet eternal in time’s sequence within the ville’s history.

She had one more thing to do before we departed. She just finished conducting a catering event, and had to find one more person. That person could not be found between the many people milling around.

In the human heart lies a wealth normally never found. Somewhere in the center of the universe lies a beating, battered heart. These hearts of ours fight a lot of traffic to be free. It was there in her auto I asked about her husband, who I have not seen since my last visit 18 months earlier.

She told me the story, of how her husband Gerald died suddenly under unique circumstances. This news saddened and shocked me, to the point where my lost auto meant nothing, that this was most unpleasant to hear such a good man of quiet calm has passed.

It always becomes worse, death and its circumstances and consequences. This all leaves the living feeling so naked, so abound and resolute with mysterious pangs of guilt. That’s why we should enjoy living – the life of everyone.

As we backed out the tight Hotel Krone garage, I asked Marie-Therese if I should exit the car and guide the auto out through the hundreds of walkers’ walking.

Marie-Therese remarked to me in a sprite manner,

“They have to watch out for me.”

There you have it. The hotel will carry on, Marie Therese will carry on…and I will be carried onward to Derendingen to the Carrosserie Kunze, where my mittlewagon is being held ransom for 500 francs.

She is correct. They do have to watch out for her. It’s Sunday, she is working her ass off, and she can only split herself five ways, not six ways. I remain in the auto as she backs out between the “walkers” and negotiates through the all the new street construction en route to Derendingen.