In the midst of the rain and the institutional blockade this week, I took a taxi as best I could. The taxi driver attempted a conversation by asking me: “What happened to you? I don’t see it on TV anymore”, a question that makes me think of the Supreme Court and that always receives a succinct answer. “Opening tonight,” I said, as indeed happened on Thursday, with the Christmas version of MasterChef Celebrity. The driver did not listen to me, but he sentenced: “I just don’t watch TV anymore.” End of dialogue. Communication on wheels. But my brain kept ruminating, as my psychologist points out. Something that can be the source of unnecessary mental health problems. And one of the main blocks in everyday life.
Ruminating, I listed the days I’ve been on television this year, no more than 20. I assumed with sportsmanship that the taxi driver is right. However, as soon as I entered the Wizink Center for Víctor Manuel’s symphony concert, I felt received as if I were the spirit of Mercedes Sosa. The uproar was so great that it took me a while to realize that Massiel herself was greeting me affectionately. From the stands they began to cheer us, then Massiel grabbed my arm and ordered: “Smile at your audience and treat them well.” We did not have any type of blockage. Neither institutional nor communication.
I love Massiel and even more meeting her without notice. At the cocktail party after the exciting and courageous concert, Massiel explained to me that David, the attractive pianist of the orchestra, is the son of Víctor Manuel and Ana Belén. He “he is almost the same age as Aitor, mine”. Thanks to that beginning of the saga, I unlocked my emotions, already quite touched by the songs, by imagining these two great divas pregnant almost simultaneously. The next day, I had another similar unlocking, during the interview between two other media divas, Ana Rosa and Jorge Javier. A summit that staged the unblocking of any lack of communication between the morning and evening programming for the new times of Telecinco.
I was able to unlock some laughs with my classmates The resistance, who said goodbye to the year in Chicote. They received me a bit hallucinated that I came from the concert and that I had been talking about songs and pregnancies with Massiel and Ana Belén. I had to tell them about the taxi driver. “Boris, it’s that you don’t need to be on television,” they insisted, more and more animated with their beers and gin and tonics. “We see you everywhere. It seems that you have a Christmas schedule all year long.” And jokingly, they began to break it down. What if the night before I was flirting with some editors of master chef at the Shine Iberia party. That if on Monday he was at the Ateneo de Madrid, accompanying Ágatha Ruiz de la Prada to present her book My story, along with Alaska and Lorenzo Caprile. I confess that Ágatha slipped the invitation during a charitable capon auction.
I read myself My story in one go, flying from London (a trip that due to Brexit has become an odyssey, almost transatlantic). Ágatha sent me a WhatsApp indicating that my classmates would talk about Movida and fashion and that I could ask him whatever I wanted. I almost did it. What seduced me the most about reading is how he describes his years of power couple, of love and power with Pedro J. Ramírez. Also when she explains that the art collection treasured by his father ended up in the possession of Jesús de Polanco, founder of EL PAÍS and one of the people most opposed to his current ex-husband. That was also a blocking moment. Ágatha says that, in Australia, they met in an elevator going down 20 floors and did not speak to each other. “What would you have told her?”, I insisted, and suddenly, Ágatha got up, blocking the presentation of her book and definitively unlocking the way to the cocktail party.
Now I know what to say to the taxi driver.
Subscribe to continue reading
Read without limits
#Christmas #week