mind expanding nonsense

Posts tagged ‘Hans’

Driving It Into The Ground

Coming up with new subject matter is no easy task here at Hansi’s Hallucinations.  It’s not like any of this stuff is actually appearing in my front room (thank god).  That’s why I keep coming back to the name thing.  Sometimes I can’t just close my eyes, dream up some weird crap and then draw it.  Sure wish there was some kinda magic potion or herb that you could take to hurry some visions along 🙂

So, if you hit on something that is working for ya creativity-wise; might as well do it again.   And if ya do it twice, why not thrice?  Trilogies sure worked for Star Wars,  Lord of the Rings, and all them stupid soap-opera laden Twilight vampire movies featuring nothing but a bunch of  horny teenagers.

When you do something a fourth time, well then you risk beating it to death [already done that,,,see my post “Beating Hansi To Death].  It’s when you just say “fuck-it”, and go for number five, that you’re driving it into the ground.

But here’s the one redeeming factor:  If you’re driving something into the ground, at least you’re still driving.  And I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather drive than be a passenger.


Wow…how’s that for an egotistical, self centered, ‘It’s all about me’ type of post. Well, this is Hansi’s Hallucinations, not Somebody else s Hallucinations, cause then you’d be reading Somebody else s stuff and not mine. So if it’s Hansi’s Hallucinations, then you’re in store for one of my hallucinations. Anyway this is more about Openness and being Open, than about hallucinating. Not like leaving the barn-door open, (or worse yet, leaving Your barn-door open), but about accepting new, or old stuff, in a non-judgmental manner willing to explore it, or even embrace it.

Now here’s a little secret. My real name isn’t Hansi. Close, but not the one on my genuine United States of America Los Angeles County birth certificate. Although I had a German mother, I was actually named after my grandfather on who’s birthday I was born. His name was Hans (pronounced or sounds like hands), and he was Norwegian! I grew up however being called Hansi, because that was a term of endearment used, mostly by German women, for my name. Got it figured out yet?

So I grew up as “Hansi”. That’s what I went by in grade school. That’s what the other kids knew me by. There weren’t any other “Hansis” around. I had a unique name growing up in L A  in the 50’s, you know, like right after WWII.   I really didn’t like being of German decent, didn’t like hearing German spoken in the house; I wanted to American.

In late Junior High, I left the whole Hansi thing behind and started going by my real name (rhymes with schwance). Here’s a trip, through out my professional career as a crime fighter I was know pretty much by my first name only (easier than pronouncing my last name correctly, especially for clients who called me “Mr. Hans”). No other Hansis there either. And that was the problem, I never met another person with my name, and due to egotistical stupid thinking, thought I was the only one [I’m still the only “Hansi” don’t cha know]..

That all changed when I went to Germany last Fall for a family reunion. But what blew me away the most is what I saw on German TV while at my sisters house (she lives in Germany). I saw Hansi Hinterseer. Hansi is Austrian and a former World cup alpine skier turned Pop singer. With long wavy blond hair an good looks, he had a show on that he did in Bavaria, south eastern Germany where the wear all the funny ethnic clothes like they wore in the Frankenstein movies. He was blowing them all away. Women went ga ga, holding up signs with Hansi and a heart on them. One Fraulein even threw a pair of silk ledderhosen on  stage.  Wow!  There was another Hansi, and he was knocking em dead.

I gotta tell ya though. Hansi (not me) was pretty lame. Not my favorite form of guitar-laden blues. But popped-up polka and traditional music, that my sister adamantly assured me was only liked by people down south, and not by All Germans. But that’s not the point, well maybe it is. I was digging it. Loving the tradition. Loving the German-ness of it all..

I was in the Hansi Heaven (not too unlike hog-heaven). Met my cousin of the same name, whose 88 year old mother still called him Hansi  (she called me Hansi too); he hated it.  I didn’t.  Felt good, kinda like I was home. And what I once had disdain for, opened itself to me and I embraced it. Now I’m Hansi again, that little boy, who just wants to play, eat, hangout with my buddies and pursue my fascination with all things naughty.

I started this blog a few months after my return form the family reunion in Germany. I was OK with “Hansi”. Being open to re-visiting some past stuff, and see it in a new light has been a joy; a true release. Openness and acceptance is sure working for me, hope it’s workin’ for you.

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