This summer, Montenegro is paying tribute to various reality programs that promote violence and immorality. There were a lot of confrontations between young men who had just become old enough to get their identity cards.
Judging by the texts on websites and in newspapers, it seems that there is a potential delinquent lurking around every corner, ready for a fight and eager to show the strength of his fists.
But it's not like that. There are incomparably more calm, well-mannered, hard-working young men who would at every opportunity to calm their passions, than those violent, ill-mannered idlers who can't wait to inflame them. Unfortunately, the media feeds on the actions of these others, because by following their "activities" they increase circulation.
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This is the first text that I am sure Blažo Orlandić will not read. The former president of the Municipality of Bar was buried between two blogs in the presence of his closest relatives, according to his own wishes. Even in the last hour, he remained true to himself: he left without fanfare, without speeches, without commemorative gatherings...
Unfortunately, there are fewer Aries that we could be ashamed of because of what we say or write.
At least he was lucky that Blažo Orlandić was the president of the Municipality at the time of the catastrophic earthquake in 1979. With his knowledge, authority and tenacity, he decisively contributed to the fact that the small, ruined coastal town began to build and develop and soon became an urban Mediterranean city.
His word was as hard as Rumia. When he once said that multi-story buildings would not be built under the Adriatic highway and that Bar would develop in height in the form of a fan, from the sea to the hills, it was known that it would be so, at least while he was wondering. And no one even tried to tempt him.
The last time he appeared in public was three years ago when his literary evening was organized at "Bar Chronicle", because he wrote several important memoirs. I had the pleasure of being the moderator at that promotion, at his request.
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The quiz "Slagalica" on RTS is a show of smart, mostly young people. A beautiful face of Serbia is being promoted there. Especially in the penultimate knowledge game. But even those talented people rarely answer a question from literature.
No one reads the classics or other great writers anymore.
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Recently, on the occasion of a soccer match, I heard a sentence that seemed to come straight from my youth: "Well, what a joke this lad makes!"
Unlike the Brazilian "dry leaf", a shot that was precisely known how to perform, the frljoka was a ball with an irregular trajectory that often knew how to fly out of nowhere and get stuck in the net. True, sometimes she went "to the sky under the clouds".
And Baljoš was fierce, a bit blunt, sometimes funny, with whom you could not do anything, but also without whom you could not.
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When Rašo Vukašević used to carry stones from Virpazar to Pješačac every day, the locals stared at each other, convinced that he was on the path that only leads to a health facility in Boka Kotorska.
In the meantime, a unique tavern was created from those stones, where we usually take special guests, those to whom we want to return some unforgettable hospitality. Like one Sunday in the middle of August.
Apart from ours, there were two other groups in the boat: singing Podgorica residents and nostalgic Sarajevo residents from Australia. We met for the first time in a small boat that took us to Pješačac, and it was as if we had always known each other, we had so many topics to talk about. True, the good atmosphere was contributed by the hits of Staro Podgorica accompanied by the guitar and the traditional honor of the boatman in the form of homemade brandy, priganice and cheese.
On the way back, the mood subsided, probably due to the fatigue of "war" with fried carp and red wine and the confirmation that every pleasure must pass. The people of Podgorica sang "Stara varoš" so listlessly that there would be no harm if God really killed her. the city they left 25 years ago and to which they returned almost as complete strangers.
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In Montenegro, there are fewer and fewer rich people and - they are getting richer, to paraphrase the good Pope Francis.
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Columnists Ante Tomić from Split and Dragan Bursać from Banja Luka, who brand nationalism in their own ranks, are traitors at home, heroes outside.
If you don't like what Bursać writes, and you like what the somewhat more lucid Tomić writes, and vice versa, then something is wrong with you, not with them.
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I have the impression that "Podjeda" has improved a bit, there are some interesting texts, although its best section is still "Others write".
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The bar evergreen for this summer reads:
"What are you doing in this hot mess?"
"Nothing, but to tell you the truth - I don't even have time!"
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And so... The two of us are living some beautiful days of our own. We are in constant anticipation of good news from Boston, London and Ljubljana, and in occasional fear of bad...
Bonus video:
