97 years since Vlad Mușatescu was born. Vlad lives on!

I could not have let today, the 4^th of May, Vlad Mușatescu’s birthday, pass by like an ordinary day.

To properly celebrate him, here is below a fragment from volume number III from his “Approximate Adventures”:

‘…

At Tâncăbești, I was in the care of Penke, my wife - who obeyed to the letter the doctor’s recommendations regarding my regime- and was starting to feel much better. I was leading a normal life, without the stress of meeting impossible deadlines in publishing. I was eating lightly, mostly because I was afraid. That one of my veins would pop up in my body. Besides the ‘recovery treatment’, I would work daily. I would type away at my Erika, the typing machine, but not more than one or two pages. I was translating the ‘Mystery of the yellow room’ by Gaston Leroux, when I noticed that ideas of my own were starting to take flight, somewhat preceding the series ‘The detective Conan Doi’s Adventures’. So, I felt the need to give them more thought. I found myself filled with courage, and thus embarked upon marches. By foot, not by means of ‘Bombița’, my car.

Actually, even the doctor recommended them. Marches bring health and energy.

‘Where are you going to, master?’, Penke asked me, seeing that I took my walking stick.’ Are you tired from all that typing at your typewriter?’

‘Exactly, I am going for a walk…’

And I would walk quite a big deal. Sometimes for two hours. Firstly, I would visit the toilet at the back of the garden, where I kept two packs of Kent and tried out my lungs. Just to see how they kept up with the smoking. They were up to the challenge! Being glad that my respiratory system was in good shape, after having smoked two cigarettes, I would cross the fence to the backdoor neighbor. Where I would eat two or three meatballs. Then, I would continue the visiting and go to neighbor Bibi, who would always receive me with a glass of red wine. Then, I would go and visit uncle Igoras, another kind neighbor. He would always invite me to lunch. Since it was not nice to refuse, I would eat some of the goodies on his table.

Only when I got to Penke’s lunch, made according to the doctor’s recommendations, would I be able to feel full. And, after two or three weeks, when I visited the doctor, he congratulated me:

‘Well done! That’s the way to lead a rational life! Keep up the good work. Even though you have not lost a lot of weight, you are still within the limits calculated by me. Soon, you will have no worries regarding blood pressure, extrasystoles and that pulse of yours…’

Truly convinced by the doctor’s encouragement, I kept on going. Once in a while, I exaggerated. But to my own amazement, my weight was not increasing, and remained under certain stability. I could not grasp what was happening, knowing that I had sinned in every way. I was smoking a lot, sometimes I would eat even 5 meatballs, and whenever I got to the restaurant ‘The House of Writers’, I would eat 10 grilled mici (grilled meatballs). And these were just starters for tender pork chops.

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