Shocked by the best the city of my birth can offer on a Saturday, and Saturdays are meant for the very best this city can offer, I end up by cursing my parents.

Addendum (June 1, 2016)

I often feel annoyed with my parents, their parents, and their parents’ parents on account of my place of birth. I understand them fleeing Istria, but why to the east? And I also understand them fleeing Zagreb, but why to the east once again? Every move my parents had made brought them deeper into the Balkans. How could they be so, well, stupid? And this question goes all the way down the proverbial line. The only thing I can say in their and their parents’ defense is that I, too, have hard time figuring out which way they should have gone. West? Two world wars come to my mind at once. America or Australia? This is closer to a meaningful choice, but it was hardly on offer so many generations ago. Mars? Would that such a choice were available to any of their progeny, as well! But fleeing the human race is still beyond all available options…