Tales of Firenze: Getting In

The first time we went to Firenze (Florence) we got hopelessly lost on the approach and found ourselves on a hill overlooking the Porta Romana, one of the main gateways into the old city. There were two Carabinieri, kind of like our State Police, but National. They had side arms and each had a machine gun slung over their shoulder. I gestured to the closest and said “Excusi Signora”. The big cop looked very suspicious and hostile and began walking in my direction. I held up the map and gestured that we were lost. He loosened up and showed us how to get into the Porta. Only then did I realize I had called him “Lady” instead of “sir”. Crap. No wonder he looked hostile. But I am sure he got a few laughs at the barracks that night.
This time we went right in with Sal the faithful navigator but couldn’t get where we were going according to the directions. Why? Well, the US Consulate is near the Anglo-American Hotel, and for security reasons had blocked off several streets. The one-ways were changed and it seemed no road led to the Hotel. We finally asked for directions and got there eventually. Very frustrating. The British Consulate, right down the road from the American one was completely open. No guards, no barriers, no police.
For the next few days we walked or took cabs.
Image of Carabinieri: http://www.pachinocamnews.it/
Image of Porta Romana: http://www.virtourist.com/

"Please Don't Cry, Baby!": A Tale of Prescience

Go back 25 or 30 years and listen in on a Biology class: “Studies have shown that women that live together tend to have synchronous periods. This confirms the production of a pheromone by menstruating women. Why should you be surprised? We are, after all, members of the Animal Kingdom and have evolved the same basic physiology. Watch the news in the future for more discoveries showing all kinds of pheromone activity in humans.”
A study released January 6th , 2011(1) indicates the presence of a previously unknown pheromone in women’s tears that when sniffed by men reduce the circulating testosterone levels, thus reducing sexual desire and aggression. Why are you surprised? We are, after all, members of the Animal Kingdom. But wait!! Men have known for ages that the mere sight of a woman crying had an immediate effect of kicking in a nurturing posture. “Please don’t cry, baby. I love you so.” followed by an embrace.
Another researcher in Denmark has associated the mysterious pheromone or another in tears that is associated in the increase of Oxytocin release in men, which leads to nurturing behavior.
So now we know: Tears are a stealth weapon to co-op the physiology of men, reduce their aggression and make them more likely to be nurturing. And my prediction from the past continues to be correct. The next time someone says “God, I hate it when she cries. All I can do is give in to whatever she wants.”just smile and say "Yeah, me too!" It remains to be seen if the tears of real emotion and those of “on demand” nature are similar in pheromone content. And, men’s tears have yet to be studied. I predict that they will have the same effect. Keep watching the news. (BTW, I also predicted the collapse of the environment due to overpopulation and pollution. Hmmmmm.)

1. http://www.sciencenews.org/view/generic/id/68457/title/Lonely_teardrops
Image: mamato2littlemonkeys.blogspot.com

Bologna: Rogo del "Vecchione"

The first time we saw the old man burn was New Years Eve, 2006. We saw the 50' high straw man being built and had no idea what it was for. But at 11:00pm we went into the Piazza Maggiore and listened to live music with a packed crowd. At a few seconds before midnight the straw man began to burn, fireworks spewed from its hands and head and in a minute it was a torch. Spumanti flew and someone gave us cups of the stuff to toast the New Year. What a ball!!!
This year we again visited the Piazza and saw not a giant straw man, but a giant straw frog. We found out that each year a different artist is chosen to design and supervise the building of the giant effigy. Usually a man, on leap year a woman and sometimes other things, like a frog. It turns out that the frog has a special meaning to the people of Bologna. Here is an excerpt that explains that relationship:
“Every year the effigy of the “vecchione” is made by a different artist and several famous artists have lent their skills to the project. This year, however, a young artist called Marco Dugo won the commission in a competition held by the Comune di Bologna and he has decided to represent the “vecchione” in a very original way: What the Bolognesi will be burning this New Year’s Eve will, in fact, be an effigy of an enormous frog, “la rana”. The figure of the frog has several connections with Bolognese history: first of all, there is a Bolognese saying, “avere della rana”, which means to be poor; secondly, there is an image of a frog, representing poverty, in the head office of the Cassa di Risparmio di Bologna; and thirdly, “La Rana” was the title of a satirical newspaper which was printed in the city during the austere era of 1865 – 1912. So this year the “rogo del vecchione” is renamed “il rogo della rana” [“the burning of the frog”].”
Again we got there early and listened to a rock concert that was really fun. Freezing cold too. This time I had my own Prosecco and 4 cups (there were four of us) and on schedule the frog started to burn. Fireworks shot out of its head, and a major fireworks display started as well. We toasted, hugged, I sprayed the end of the Prosecco over the crowd, following the lead of many. One guy whipped out his pizzel and pissed. Many cell phones caught his drunken act. Some young assholes threw a bunch of fire crackers into the crown but did no real harm. The frog passed out (fell over) and we wended our way home to the hotel. The music went on for 2 more hours. I think we were the oldest people in the piazza. God it’s good to be alive.
Image of model: www.terzaeta.com terzaeta.comterzatea.com
Image of straw frog :www.multimedia.quotidano.net
1. http://www.italymag.co.uk/italy-featured/bologna/new-year-s-eve-bologna

Waiting for the gas man - - - - again

.“Randy will be there tomorrow. I don’t know what time.”
So started another day of waiting. I had tons to do that I could do at home. Lots of preparation for Spring classes, Blackboard shells to get ready, documents to move into folders. Dishes, always dishes. Laundry. And a dead possum to get rid of.
But there were lots of things I needed to do in town. Shop for a fresh fennel for a pasta dish. Look at an LED TV to replace the 20 year old big tube. The pool place. The pet store for Koi food. A couple of hours of running around. But nooooo. Sat here doing and finishing everything, then just sat. Pissed off. Several calls got a busy signal. After all it is cold weather and the gas people are very busy. Damn it though, so am I. Kind of reminds me of a Doctor’s office that charges you for a missed appointment but keeps you waiting for 2 hours because “we are behind”. Well la-de-dah. I work for a living too. How about you pay me for the 2 hours of lost work time?
Ahhhh. Just caught myself venting. Feel better too. Thanks for listening.
Image: tow411.yuku.com

Rocco and Antonella: Bologna II

The first time we went to Bologna we were completely exhausted. It took forever to find the hotel because the one way streets had been changed and the directions made no sense. We got there eventually and settled in late in the afternoon. The hotel recommended the ristorante down the block for dinner and booked a table for us. Al Sangiovese.(1) A very local family run place run by Rocco, from Calabria, and his wife Antonella from Bologna.
When the meal ended I asked for Amaro Averna, an herbal after dinner liqueur. Rocco came out of the kitchen with a bottle of Amaro del Capo and explained through gestures and a bit of English from Antonella that the ONLY Amaro that was any good at all was Amaro del Capo, which not surprisingly is made in Calabria. It was really wonderful. That was 4 years ago.
We went back to Bologna for New Years Eve this year(burning of the frog, another post later) and this time stayed at the nearby hotel to be near the Al Sangiovese. We had reservations for two nights and were welcomed as old friends, hugs and all. At the end of the first meal, Rocco put 4 glasses (we were with another couple) on the table with a bottle of Amaro del Capo. No question of ordering it or not drinking it. Same for the New Years Eve meal. Just like home.
No kidding, if you ever get even near Bologna, stop in at the Al Sangiovese and tell then “Woody da amico Americano” sent you. You won’t be disappointed.
1. http://www.alsangiovese.com/en/index.html
Images from above website: Rocco on left, Antonella on right, chef in middle (looks like a relative to me. I will find out and re post this later.)

Bologna, Part One

You gotta love Italians, don’t you?
More than any city visited so far, I love Bologna best. A small and vibrant university and business center with 1000’s of apartments above the porticos. Tens of thousands of people actually live, work and enjoy the city within the old city walls. Great food, art, shopping walking and world class churches. One group (1) that is connected is called Sette Chiese, which means seven churches. Oddly, there are only 5 churches there. Enthralling to walk around inside each, and experience the different “feel” of each.
The hilltop church of San Luca is a must see, and a very long walk from the old city. It is 3.5 kilometers from the Porta Saragozza, one of the 12 gates into the old city. The walk to the church is under cover all the way. A series of 666 (yes, that is the actual count) connected porticos lead you up the 3.5km climb to the church. Well worth the effort.
On New Year’s Eve an effigy of the “old man” of the year ending is burned in the Piazza Maggiore. This represents getting rid of the baggage from the year ending and starting the New Year with a clean slate. Again oddly, the effigy isn’t always of a man. This year it was a stately 40 foot high frog. Go figure. I could go on and on about this fine city and no doubt will in the future.

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santo_Stefano_(Bologna)
Image fountain detail : livingsimplicity.blogspot.com

Image neptune fountain : theodora.com

Chalk and Cheese.

We were buddies in high school. His father was one of the bus drivers and our “egg man” and a truly nice man. One of those families where everyone respects everyone and gets along. I used profanity heavily; he didn’t and usually reminded me in a good natured way to be less profane. I was a wanna be badass and he was a good guy. I got drunk and he drove me home. More than once. He didn’t drink. I drove like a maniac and he drove very responsibly. He was religious, I wasn’t. For some reason he looked out for me, and when I got into real trouble he stayed my friend. He and his family converted to the Mormon religion and moved to Provo. We gradually lost touch as friends often do when there is a gulf of distance and philosophy developing between them. He went on to marry and have a big family, and I have no doubt it was a good family. After his wife died he married a widow with several children and they had a super-Brady bunch, 12 or 14 or something like that. I told him once that no matter what, where or when, if he needed me or something from me, like a kidney, it was his. No questions asked.
He died a little while ago, and I just learned about it. The profane mourns the clean-to-the-core. If there were justice it might be otherwise I suppose, but then again who can know a man’s heart? I think I knew his, and am so sorry a good man is gone. He believed in Heaven, and in his construct, that is where he is. No shit. (That was for you Chuck, to let you know it really is me.)
Image: Chuck with gigantic barracuda on Five Fathoms trip to the keys in 1957