Hubert Gorbach hat einen Brief geschrieben.
An einen englischen long-time-friend aus vergangenen politischen Tagen. Hubert sucht einen Job: brief_gorbach (pdf, 183 KB)

Leider hat es nichts genützt. Hubert hätte wissen müssen, dass die Briten, geschult durch die knallige Sprache der yellow-press, mehr Dramatik brauchen, um zu reagieren. Mein Vorschlag für einen zweiten Versuch:

Dear friend,

here i stand in front of you, my job is away, my nice car in vienna is away and my big office in my ministry also. Therfore i have to cook smaller brötle, you know. It is very hard to look, how the shining of my bright and glory time as the vice-chancellor of the republik of austria sinks down behind the Schweizer Berge. Every evening i have to sit in my small house in frastanz, an no pig calls me on my phone. Frastanzer beer (das beste - after Ale, of course!) doesn't help really.
My dear old long-time friend! I know, the brits have hearts, as big as a lionheart. Please, give yours a push an me a job! Nearly, i do everything, just give me a title (maybe: Sir?) and a car (not japanese). If nessessary (difficult word, is it correct?) i also can take the train - i am very competent in trains, you know.

So, let's make nails with heads and call the thing at its name: I need a little help from my friend because i'm not amused with the outlook to sit the rest of my live in this too small Ländle, where nobody is interested in my brilliant competence.

Thanks a lot im Voraus and let hear something from you soon -

your old buddy

Huby

( best-of-gorbach-postings (pdf, 116 KB))

Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.

(Bob Dylan)