fmaggi's blog

Sex, Lies & Dvds

2009-11-12T06:22:40-06:00

History has just been made: An Italian politician just went down for his sexual picadillos, in what is a very first for this country. I mean, we’re talking about the place that gave us Caligula, Popes with 17 kids, Caesar & Cleopatra and then Marc Antony & Cleopatra, and Emperors gifting sumptuous villas for their mistresses. It was the Italians who remarked upon seeing photos of Gary Hart on the ‘Monkey Business’ with a pretty blonde (who was not his wife), that he most likely would have lost his candidacy if he’d been on the Monkey Business and not tried something. And so, catching Marazzo, the Governor of Rome’s great Lazio region with his pants down and taking the fall? This is nothing short of monumental.

Has Italy suddenly become prudish? Not if you count the numbers of men (and women) who back Berlusconi’s affairs as a sign of his ‘virility’. No, with all the drama of an Italian tragic opera, it wasn’t one of your plain vanilla puritan American affairs; getting caught sleeping around, or paying for escorts, or getting blown in the oval office, or even chasing pages (these transgressions don’t even cause blips on the radar screen). He was caught – on tape – shacking up with transvestites. But that’s only the QuickRead version of the story. It grows more complex by the minute.

What started out as his ‘personal weakness’ for the likes of Natalí and Brenda, later involved four Carabinieri policemen who filmed him in the act (for whom?, one might ask). He tried offering them hush money. The film supposedly ends up, however, in the hands of one of the huge media outlets – who warns him about it, rather than publishing it. That person is also the one running the country, Berlusconi. Speaking of Prime Ministers, the building is the same one in which Aldo Moro was famously held prisoner before being murdered. The same neighborhood where Italy's Secret Service purportedly own 22 other apartments (begging the question...did they murder Moro?). Or, did the Carabinieri have ties to Rome's local mafia, the Casalesi, and is it true, they have other hot videos (involving other ex-Ministers)?
As the climax of Marazzo’s personal and professional life is spent as fast as a man after well, climax, he's taken a leave of absence from his job. Unfortunately, just when Berlusconi’s men are maintaining a public campaign to halt absenteeism for false maladies – Marazzo goes home and gets a note from the doctor. The opposition cries foul, and presses for new elections – surely to win.
And, speaking of Berlusconi, the spotlight's now off the uncannily quiet Berlusca and his escorts, and shining brightly on the left, where the dirt is so murky, his own affairs pale by comparison. Hmmmmm...those accusations now seem like fun foreplay when set against the after-glow of Marazzo's transvestite trysts.

Shakespeare set his plays in Italy, for all the intrigue and fascination the place obviously held even back in his day. But Shakespeare, if he were alive today, could never have predicted such a convoluted unfolding of events.
As for me, since the days of seeing Gary Hart's Presidential campaign go impotent, up to John Edwards' premature ejection from public life, I still can’t figure out for the life of me, why public figures don’t keep their privates private – at least for the time they’re occupying a public office.

p.s. In a great show of support, opposition politician and media mogul Silvio Berlusconi has stated that the video will not go published on any of his media outlets. Yet another genius move by the great Chess player.
Birds of a feather...

pps: Just was informed that it's a second. The first, a Sig. Mele, very Catholic southerner, father of four, was caught with a prositute who died in his hotel room in Rome.

All the President's Cards

2009-07-29T08:35:13-05:00

While on vacation with my American nephews and niece, we got to talking about the hullaboo in America over Barack Obama’s (supposed lack of) birth certificate,
the ‘Birther’ movement (which to this blogger sounds a lot like people
proposing natural childbirth), the bill introduced in Congress to force
Presidential candidates to ‘prove’ their certificates are for real (as
if government seals on original birth certificates were not enough
‘proof’), and so on.

And,
it struck me, that the Italians, having had a full-fledged working
Republic oh, give or take a few thousand years before us, have got the
solution nailed.

But, let’s take your docs from the top (forgive me if I've left a few out along the way)…

- Birth Certificates.
In the old days, if you were born to a single or unmarried mom, they
actually wrote FATHER UNKNOWN. And this was well before sperm banks and
test tube babies, so you know, pretty much, that the woman generally
knew who she did it with and when…
Nowadays, if you’re born to a
single or unmarried mom, the child is pretty much not allowed to have
your last name for your efforts of 36 hours in labor – unless you swear
on a stack of bibles that the FATHER IS TOTALLY UNKNOWN. In Italy, the
only single feminist symbol around is that women, due to the extreme
bureaucracy, you are forced to keep your own names. That’s because it’d
be so totally impossible to change them even if your name happens to be
GianPieroMaria Mangiapane Bevilacqua.
If you were unfortunately
saddled with a middle name like every American, you’d then have to
consider it like a first name the rest of your life, even if you were
named Luisa George after a long-lost uncle in America. Whenever I sign
on to my Vodafone account, I’m cheerily met with “Welcome Francesca Martine!”

- Someone in your family would then have to go down to the City offices and make a form, STATO DI FAMIGLIA,
announcing your home’s new arrival. At which point, the GARBAGE
COLLECTION people would start charging extra, considering your
producing more garbage [and if you stop and think about how many
disposable but not biodegradable diapers that baby consumes, you’d
think the rate would quadruple, but, let’s not give the authorities any
ideas…].
Funny thing is, when your roommate moves out, and you
change your Stato di Famiglia, the garbage people somehow don’t quite
catch on to the change…

- You then need to get a PASSPORT (if you’re the traveling kind), a CARTA D’IDENTITA’
(an i.d. card which even used to list if you were single, married,
widowed or divorced and in an incredible encroachment, I think even
dating and available…) and now, a HEALTH CARD which doubles (in an anti- bureaucracy moment of respite) as your SOCIAL SECURITY CARD (codice fiscale).
As you age, you’d have to get a DRIVER’S LICENSE and pay your TV Tax, coming clean on the number of Tvs you have in your household.

- Try moving out of your parents’ home and, most people, to avoid the hassle, keep their RESIDENCY CARD
always in place (much to the chagrine of the pappas who pay the garbage
tax, but the mammas who are happy to have that little apron string
dangling in the form of figuring you into her garbage collection – Of
course, with all the meals she prepares for you and sends over in
Tupperware containers, you are most likely causing the majority of the
garbage over at her homestead anyway).
So, you then must set up your DOMICILE certificate,
claiming that you do, indeed, live somewhere else than your primary
residence. All this has to do with keeping track of you, where you
vote, and, in the case of asking for a mortgage, at what rate you might
be getting.

Note: NONE – absolutely none
– of the aforementioned documents are stand alone: You need to show
proof of almost all of the rest in order that they will allow you to be
the recipient of the doc you’re missing. So, they’re all intra-related
in some way.

- But the clincher, as a reader once informed me,
is what would obviously settle the insane Obama debacle once and for
all: The illusive and illustrious CERTIFICATO DI ESISTENZA.

This
is, in short, a document in which you claim in front of a government
official and in the form of a written statement, that you do, indeed,
exist.

I am not sure what it’s used for or how they
can prove otherwise, seeing that we are not yet double-checking
fingerprints nor conducting iris scans, but…perhaps if Obama had dual
citizenship, his coughing up this certificate would really put things
to rest. Or not.
After all, dual citizenship would probably carry with it its own bill pending in Congress: the Double Birthing Bill [not to be confused with some Octo-mom anti-fertility drug measures].

When in Rome...

2009-07-10T07:52:14-05:00

Michelle Obama & kids visited the Pantheon yesterday. It has been twittered, and it's probably TOTALLY UNTRUE, in the friend of a friend of a friend sort of variety of info that our TOTALLY COOL FIRST LADY donning black leggings - leggings!- under a black dress asked for a doggy bag at the restaurant.

You mean to tell me, my blog isn't required reading prior to a Presidential presence in Italia???!!! I mean, is she a midnight snacker? Did Barack call her up and say, honey can you pick me up a little something while you're out and about??
If not, I'm going to say in her defense that she must be travelling with Bo, and she didn't know she could bring him to the ristorante...(again, if she only read my blog...!)

And while I'm on the Obama's case, I understand a bunch of nations promised to dump money into the endless corruption pit that will be Aquila's post-earthquake rebuilding. I don't know about you, but personally, I'd like to see a bit more of an improvement say, in making robust levees in New Orleans or removing the pit that is Ground Zero (8 years on...) before I see American tax dollars lining contractors' and politicos' pockets over here. I mean, how much black market money do we have to go around?
Between paying bribes to Pakistanis, Iraqis and Afghan War Chiefs, I'm sure N'awlins still needs to suck up its fair share... I can still hear Berlusconi laughing all the way to the bank after his G8 Show n'Tell.

Lots o' Luck!

2009-05-22T06:13:21-05:00

As I’ve stated many times before (and like many before me), Italy is nothing if not a land of contradictions. But, when it comes to looking at life’s petty inconveniences, if not truly huge disasters, the Italians always turn to the exact opposite of what one would expect.

For example, if you get shat on by a pigeon (a fairly common occurrence & the inspiration for this blog entry), while you’re pretty much standing there, immobile and absolutely grossed out, an Italian will quickly quip, “Porta Fortuna!” (it brings good luck). While you ponder the goock in your hair, and your upcoming dry cleaning bill, you wonder what kind of luck is in store for you…

Ditto for stepping in dog doo. Now, if this were truly the case, the Italians would be the luckiest populace on the planet, with a close runner up by the French. And the Singaporeans, who seem like a fairly happy lot, would have the highest suicide rates on earth.

Brides are told that rain on their wedding day also Porta Bene! Try telling that to Bridezilla.

But, my very favorite expression of all, is of course, “In Bocca al Lupo!” (in the mouth of the wolf) for anyone who has to pass a test, or to whom you simply want to wish good luck. It’s the Italian equivalent of Break a Leg! But still, as someone who grew up on Little Red Riding Hood, I can’t help but think there’s a bad omen in there somewhere.

Nonetheless, whomever said that Italians weren’t optimistic?

What's Love Got To Do With It?

2009-05-06T07:02:01-05:00

When you first break with tradition, it often comes accompanied by a soundtrack similar to a herd of elephants in a china store. I’m thinking of things like, oh, little black girls attending a white school in America’s south, the investiture of a gay Bishop, the end of Apartheid, or even the first sounds of Elvis’ form of Rock n’ Roll.

And so it is, in a country heaped in tradition when it comes to making and breaking marriage vows (both done with impunity), that the very public divorce proceedings of Silvio & Veronica will be providing bloggers, columnists and politicos with tittle tattle for years to come. Such an audacious break with tradition has not been seen since the very married Julius Caesar brought Cleopatra over for a shopping spree in downtown Rome (and look where that got him).

This is not France – a country where the mistress and the matron can share a funeral procession; or when one presides over the wedding of someone they will soon bed – publicly [although one has to hand it to Sarkozy, like Elizabeth Taylor, he prefers to marry his lovers].

In Italy, there are a few rules regarding the holy bond of matrimony:

1. Never air your dirty laundry in public. Never. Not even to your best friend. Found your husband in bed with another man? Just respond “Tutto bene, grazie.”

2. Make vows, getting married ‘under the eyes of God’, after all, no one else is looking when you flaunt those same vows with your endless affairs.

3. Everyone knows you’ll be having affairs, and people talk candidly about them, even showing up for public functions, amante in tow. Mussolini, Agnelli, Mastroianni…right down to your local bank clerk.

4. (Try) and stay married, despite these indiscretions, for the good of ‘La Famiglia’. ‘Don’t ask, Don’t tell’ is the order of the day.

So, what gives?
It’s not that the megalomaniac showman couldn’t keep it in his pants – after all, no one expected him to. It’s that he so audaciously chose to flaunt his affairs, his courtesans, his political promotion of hotties, his supposed virility so publicly.

But the Head of State being sued for divorce is simply unheard of. If anything, it’s the man who runs off during the throws of a serious midlife crisis (reference Pavarotti), leaving la mamma to tend to the nest. Obviously, living in a gilded cage now that the kids have moved is more stressful than we think.

But, one thing I know for sure: Thomas Friedman (NYTimes) often asserts that the greatest energy force in the whole wide world, stronger even than bonds of undying love, is a lack of dignity. Take away that, you unleash a hailstorm of fury – if you lose your dignity, you have nothing to lose.

And in this, with Silvio strutting his stuff, while popping Viagra 24/7, he has insulted the very dignity of the sales clerk-turned-Prime Minister’s Signora (for whom he divorced his first wife).

Obviously, Mr. Berlusconi does not know the old adage,

“Hell has no wrath as a woman scorned.”

In awe of the Spaghetti Western

2009-05-04T09:19:08-05:00

Along with much of Italy, I've been
personally celebrating the filmmaker - visionary - & unbelievably
talented Sergio Leone. It's the 30th anniversary of his death. Don't
know quite why I never got into these 'Spaghetti Westerns' before, but
boy, the visual impact & awesome scores by Ennio Morricone will
drain you of such emotion, it'll leave you as dry as the sun-baked
Arizona desert -- and definitely thirsting for more.

His films are studied by students and cinematographers the world over. Not only did he put Clint Eastwood on the map, many are considered milestones. (Once upon a time in America, Once upon a time in the Far West - starring Henry Fonda, Charles Bronson, and a host of the who's who of the 1960s and 70s). Like Wikepedia asserts:

"Many critics have called it ironic that an Italian director who could not speak English, and had never even seen the American Old West, almost single-handedly redefined the typical vision of the American cowboy."

How sad to discover he only made 8 films before his death at 60.

Long Lasting Looks

2009-04-20T14:07:53-05:00

This week we honor the 100th birthday of pretty much the only woman in Italy who is truly respected for her mind, Rita Levi Montalcino, Nobel prize winning scientist and senator for life. And to think that she did it in an epoch in which women could barely make it to the upper echelons of anything but the top shelf at the Esselunga Supermarket. And while she is a source of pride for all of Italy, she’s still, unfortunately the exception that proves the rule.

Our new token, the ‘woman of steel’ at Italy’s ConfIndustria must have graphic artists from Trieste to Trapani all atwitter – they finally get to type the letters, r – a after the Sig. on invitations. But that’s not even entirely true, as, the men are called reverently, Dott. (Dottore), while the women still get to be called Mrs. And even in this they got it all wrong; women keep their last names, so, even the Mrs. is a misnomer.

The European Parliament decided to take action, recently decreeing that those endearing suffixes, like Dott.ssa, Avvocatessa, etc. be removed from titles in an effort to finally achieve parity. I recall when a friend from an elite American media outlet was to sponsor a business conference in Milan. When he asked, ‘Why are there no women on the panel?’ He was laughed out of the room. ‘Parish the thought’, ‘Not Serious’, ‘This isn’t America.” Well, he briskly got up and left, taking his toys with him. He would have gotten in the last laugh if he wasn’t so darn mad about the whole affair.

Now that we have women Ministers and Cabinet members, this situation could have changed, except that Berlusconi’s first requirement -- that they be good looking to serve -- doesn’t help all that much. In Berlusconi’s world, Cabinet posts are car tops at automotive shows. But, we do have one thing to look forward to:

In Italy, women live so much longer than men, that eventually, we’ll get to hold the highest honors in the land and be esteemed from the top of the boot to the tip of the toe, just because we outlived the ones who couldn’t see our brains for our bosoms.

Making Oranges out of Orangeaid

2009-04-13T04:54:55-05:00

I remember back in the day when I taught nursery school, and each year, we’d ask the kids, ‘Where does orange juice come from?’ And we were invariably met with, ‘A Can. The Freezer,’ or some other variant [ask ‘em where money comes from…and you’ll always get, ‘A Machine.’].
We’d then proceed to make fresh squeezed o.j. with them. In Italy,
where bottled fruit juices are the next best thing to drinking the
actual fruit with a pour spout inserted, you know exactly where your
juice comes from. Nothing comes closer to ambrosia than this.

So, it is not without some controversy that Italy’s government decided that orange or lemon drinks (aranciata)
no longer has to include the actual fruit juice. As a staunch
capitalist, I think this is wise. But, as someone who loves the pure
juices without having them tainted with sugar, corn syrup and all of
the other insidious ingredients which creep into American beverages,
well, it’s a travesty. And the outcry has been huge.

One of my favorite columns, Lapis in fibula, from Epolis, penned by a satirist who calls himself Chicco Gallus weighed in on the subject. Here’s his take:

It’s just like an Aranciata – with Oranges

It
is about to be permitted to sell orange flavored beverages without
oranges, or rosé wines by simply mixing red and white wines together.
It’s one of those curious laws that reenter into laws that everyone was
happily living without.
I’ve never come across someone who was left
horrified after having drunk an aranciata, only to be overcome with the
horrible suspicion that inside, there might have been a trace of fresh
squeezed something or other.
Foods proudly produced in order to avoid affecting those suffering from food allergies usually write, in bold letters, NO SALT!, Contains no glutens!, or Without fill in the blank. And obviously, they make you pay more for them.
Here we have instead the exact opposite taking affect:
It's
up to the consumer to discover whether or not that which they just
gulped is in some way related to what they perhaps originally wanted in
the first place.
With the wine debacle, the issue is even more
subversive; because, to make a rosé wine, you need an elaborate and
costly system; cultivating the red grapes in a particular way. Mixing
red and white wines together simply takes a split second.
In
reality, however, this new way of making rosé even works in our favor:
After all, up 'til now, to make a nice rosy wine out of your reds, all
we needed to do was add a little tap water.
So now, we have to look forward to new permits of creative manufacturing, like, orange wine with no oranges, or fake aranciata rosé wine (all it takes is removing the fake yellow out of the fake arancione).
Heck – it could even turn into a new profession: not producing inventive beverages but, getting someone to drink them.

Feelin' the Earth Move Under My Feet

2009-04-09T15:39:28-05:00

All of us are still reeling from the quakes felt all the way to Rome
and from the horrific images of the damage done to one of the most
pristine and picturesque places in Italy. The rescue and mobilization
of volunteers and squads from nearly all of Italy was exceptional – the
response was immediate, well-organized, and all those affected who
could, pitched in to pull people from the rubble. I even saw pictures
of Spanish rescuers with dogs searching for survivors. Teams of
national guards are busy assuring that looting was at a minimum (besides, there was little left to loot)
and the idiots who sent out an sms warning of future quakes to lure
people from their homes will be met with more severe sentences than
ever. In short, the coordination of departments, the exodus into nearby
hotels, and the treatment of patients in field tents all went like
clockwork.

But, no sooner have the aftershocks stopped than investigations have been called. The biggest question remains -- Why did the more recent constructions collapse like a house of cards?
The answer usually lays with corrupt builders and city officials with
greased palms and blind eyes. But, it could simply be that the force of
the quake was simply too great for any building to hold up under.

The
second story to make the rounds is of the supposed seismologist who
predicted an imminent earthquake, until being trounced by pretty much
every other scientist, technician, engineer and media advisor on the
airwaves. This guy, it turns out, is the Italian cousin of Joe the
Plumber - not truly a seismologist, he sounded the alert weeks ago,
based on radon gases he was finding. He was unceremoniously jailed for
his efforts.
A reality check: If we could predict earthquakes, everyone from Tokyo to Tahoe would sleep easily at night (well, they do anyway, but that’s besides the point). The best scientists in Japan and the USA can’t call ‘em, and neither can a hobbyist from the Abruzzo mountains.

But – and you’ve read it here first (and at the risk of being jailed for sounding a false alarm)
-- the biggest – and heretofore – still unmentioned repercussion of
this quake is the arrival of every sort of malady stemming from Asbestos. Every building in Abruzzo (and much of Italy for that matter),
from schools to hospitals to households is made with asbestos in the
roofs. Those apocalyptic scenes of entire blocks reduced to rubble are
all the more scary because the entire area has been blanketed in the
stuff. After the earthquake demolished my family’s Abruzzo town in
1985, I was told NOT to replace the roof, but to seal it so the
asbestos could never get out. Lifting the roof off would have released
a Pandora’s box. Just like the Twin Towers workers, we’ll be hearing
about the effects in a few years’ time.

In the meantime, we
get to look forward to an inordinate amount of corruption in contract
procurement and the relative urban sprawl while the region rebuilds --
already Berlusconi has tipped his cards, on his idea to build 'new
towns' thereby destroying the charm and countryside of what is left of
the Aquila countryside. To get a picture of the future, just take one
look at Perugia in the years since the Assisi earthquake.

You can send donations through the Italian Red Cross. Probably a fairly safe bet to make sure your funds are put to good use.

Expat Shopping Spree - or, things we love about America

2009-03-07T05:41:10-06:00

My
friend Annabel, accomplished chef, food writer & marketing maven is
coming to Rome. She'll be blogging about her experience [Her past blogs include India: Who's Sari Now? and Tokyo: Vending for your life
- where she left with no suitcase & decided to purchase all of her
necessities from the ubiquitous vending machines which purportedly sell
everything from underwear to electronics and more..]. Needless to say,
the last time she came over, she ended up developing Tex Mex menus for
Dixieland restaurants in Milan, training the kitchen staff to make
Uevos Rancheros and Silver Dollar Pancakes (still on offer, I might add
-- although they probably cost a silver dollar to eat them).

Her arrival sparked in me, however, a little Expat Shopping Spree.
Having not been back to the USA for well over a year, I was in definite
need of things. And, I'm very brand loyal. So, I thought I'd bring you
one of my periodic Public Service Announcements,
for any of you 'across the pond' who come visit us over here. My
brother for one stocks up on yummy granola, kids' toothpaste and
vitamins. This is not to say you can't find the items here (and
Carrefour gets our vote), but, at nearly $12 for a little bottle of
maple syrup, well, it's a lot less trouble to go to www.drugstore.com and let your fingers do the walking (and your friends do the carrying).

So,
here's my short list of things I absolutely, positively, cannot live
without (it goes without saying that we're talking family-sized
containers, a concept that has not quite reached the continent):

Maple syrup -- because here it costs more than truffles
Imitation vanilla -- bottles here are sold for a family of lilliputians
Arrid Extra Dry
-- incredibly, boiling hot Europe offers either anti-perspirant or
deodorant, and never the twain shall meet. I won't go into the net
effect of this most outrageous practice.
Brown sugar -- not cane, but soft, packed, thrice-refined, imperative for cookies, brown
Ghirardelli Brownie Mix -- I know a caterer in London who brings it in by the case full -- there is no greater product on earth.
Bisquick
-- for those Sunday a.m. pancakes - and don't let them fool you,
Europeans love American breakfasts if it's put in front of them.
Aveeno lotion -- this is sold here, and prices on toiletries are nearly the same these days, but I still hold out for the family-size
Ditto for Johnson's Baby Oil, Nivea & other sundry items including Aquafresh (which, anyone coming to Europe will find the 'minty' taste has been altered -- turns out, they hate our mint, we theirs).
Starbucks chai tea packs
- they don't sell the loose stuff over here (and thankfully, there are
no Starbucks in Italy -- I think even the Italians will balk at a 4
euro latte)
Brita water filters -- can't find them at those prices over here!
Marshmallows -- just because
Hand-held dish scrubber sponges -- make great gifts too!
Altoids -- they say they come from England, but you won't find them over there (believe me, I've tried!)
Coffeemate & Folgers Instant -- when you want a cup o'Joe that's "good to the last drop" and decidedly not an espresso with lots of water added!

And, for those of you leaving Italy, always pack a huge family-sized Nutella jar, you won't find 'em even that large at CostCo.

Good News for Travelers to Italy

2009-03-05T08:19:56-06:00

You may have noticed I’ve been playing hooky for awhile, but, hopefully
all will be forgiven as I have been picking up great experiences for the blog…But first, the good news (which does not include finding snackpack-sized Oreos
in every airport and bar these days. Although it was seriously about
time. I think Marco Polo even with his 20 year stint in China brought
noodles here sooner).

While driving to and fro, the big electronic sign boards on Italy's highways have posted a new message (Heaven forbid they actually tell us about tie-ups):
Make sure you fasten your child in a child seat with seatbelt.

We
don’t know what drove the authorities to come to their senses (pun not
intended), much less if it will have any effect, but we still remain
pleased. If it can just get one mother to reconsider holding la bambina in her arms, well, it will not be all for naught.

Of course, there will always be exceptions:
A
woman in America was arrested recently for holding her baby in her arms
– WHILE DRIVING. AND BREAST-FEEDING. AND SCRIPTING A TEXT MESSAGE. Talk about multi-tasking…

Also while making the rounds, I discovered Bagels being touted at the Autogrill!!! (pun intended). Personally,
I don’t like the idea of all these American treats on every
thoroughfare, but I secretly rejoiced while downing one of their
fabulous blueberry muffins…

While in Rome, those monster buses have been rerouted out of the center.
This is just one element of Mayor Alemanno’s drive to make the city
center a better place and his work does not go unnoticed.
Although I found on those same buses a huge ad campaign explaining the new (increased) parking rates for those driving around…
Considering
that the majority of bus passengers are immigrants, school kids and the
elderly, I thought the message was a bit misplaced. Might have made
more sense just to post the rates around the parking areas…

While traipsing through Fiumicino Airport (aka Leonardo Da Vinci) on a Sunday night, we were surprised to find the shops open
(even if the exit doors were not). We don’t know if this is due to the
recession, but, it was nice to see things lit up – even on Sundays –
and in Arrivals. I also noticed that the airport departures lounges
have gone silent (for the most part).
Great
news for all of us iPod people…now we’ll really be in peace, but you
really gotta keep your eye out for last-minute gate changes. I’ve
nearly missed flights coming and going as a result.

And, good news for the train traveler, one of whom I used to be…but why bother when you can fly to London for less?? They now (actually for some time now) have a superfast train Rome-Milano.
But
lest you get visions of bullet trains dancing in your head…Italy boasts
the only superfast trains that go slow. But, they cut out the middlemen
(Florence – Bologna) and now you’re on your way. Now, if they can only
apply the concept to business…

Tune in this week for the Bad News for travelers.

Italy's Update of the Movie Coma?

2009-02-10T14:12:14-06:00

Eluana, Italy's Terry Schiavo, after 17 years living in a total
vegetative state finally breathed her last breath. May she and Terry
both rest in peace. I won't go on about the amount of political
maneuverings, legal loopholes and misconceptions that accompanied her
passing (Berlusconi's incredible statement 'well, she can still
reproduce') was just one of the many even more sickening opinions on
this very private matter which went expressed.

And while I won't
go into the implications of this decision to discontinue her feeding
tube (which include political, human rights, constitutional, religious
posturing and street protests; not to mention the family's very own
right to privacy), I'd just like to say that perhaps Berlusconi, in his
eternal quest for the fountain of youth, was actually serious.
After
all, what with his hair plugs, facelifts, and barrage of sexual potency
insinuations (he must have his very own Viagra production house), I'm
sure he would like to live on forever; even if that means being kept
indefinitely on a feeding tube.
I wouldn't be surprised if he's taken all his money and arranged to have himself frozen in a cryonic suspension case,
so he can come back later and appear on talk shows in the Year 2310
next to 20-somethings in bikinis. Who knows? He may still have his
singing voice.

But, this idea of keeping people alive just because we can strikes me as something out of the 1978 Michael Crichton flick, Coma.
Just think: there are not enough beds in Italy to house the temporarily
infirm, where will we put the bodies? Maybe this is Berlusconi's true
solution for Malpensa Airport. Use the hangars for hangers. That might
explain the secretive meetings with officials in Milan.

Whether or not you agree, it certainly beats the Soylent Green solution.

Playmobil, Pinocchio, & other Play things

2009-02-03T15:43:40-06:00

Well, today I discovered that Hans Beck, the German creator of those little Playmobil
figures died. It’s almost like hearing that Charles Schulz finally
passed away, the creator of Snoopy. You'd think they could just keep on
creating forever (and, in the case of Playmobil, I imagine they will).
And, it started me thinking of how many things we grew up with, which,
in America, everyone simply believes is American. Like Prince
spaghetti, Pinocchio (although Gepetto kind of gives him away) or even
Speed Racer. In our limited world view, there are many people out there
who probably don’t realize a lot of the things that have achieved
nearly cult status are, in fact, imports [although today one could
argue that it's all coming from China anyway].

And so it is as well with the Legos.
Who knew they came from Denmark (well, except all you out there who’ve
been to Legoland). Awesome. Pretty soon we’ll learn that Barbie
actually came from Bali or Bermuda or even Sweden.

There’s actually a fabulous book on Amazon
for kids, Look What Came from Italy, which shows all the things we have in America that came from
Italy, including the pretzel [I actually know this story which is on my
Audio Tour of the Vatican Museums…a
baker made them in honor of the Polish General who fought off the
Muslims at Rome’s Ponte Milvio…they were called after his stirrups or
something like that…]

But, there’s a Dutch import I truly wish had never left its borders: TV’s Big Brother.
Was I relieved to learn it wasn’t yet another trash American export
come our way…! But then again, although it’s from the same country that
gave us the Red Light District, they also came up with those rich
Coffee Houses and so…we won’t hold it against them.

Unveiling the Veline Defense

2009-01-19T13:51:23-06:00

Anyone who has heard any news from Italy these days knows about the
murder trial going on in Perugia. Amanda Knox and her (now) ex
boyfriend who are on trial
for murdering her roommate with a quick knife cut to the throat. And,
although she changed her story time and again, she says she’s innocent.

Obviously,
the year she’s already spent in jail watching Italian TV (in Italy,
you’re guilty until proven innocent) has taught her a few things. And
so 'Foxy Knoxy' (her internet i.d.) has decided on a charm defense,
trying to turn it on for the presiding judge, after seemingly already
winning over her lawyers. So here we have another case of a
20-something naughty girl (or Veline, as they're commonly called here, basically, 'eye candy') laughing it up with yet another overdressed
septuagenarian man. Only this time, he’s not donning a 3 pc. suit, but
covered head to toe in robes.

There’s one thing her Italian
finishing school didn’t teach her, though. That laughing is not
acceptable for girls of any repute, let alone of ones of hers. I might
add that, given the circumstances (oh, say, a senseless murder of a
roommate or, you know, the fact that you may rot in an Italian prison
for some 30 years), that one might cop a more serious pose. I’m
thinking something along the lines of say, the Statue of Liberty and
decidedly not Charo.

So
her coquettish behaviour, giggles and hardy laughs with the men
obviously garnered the big headlines. Not so much for offending the
décor of the trial itself, but for having so blatantly flaunted one of
the Golden Rules for Women Living in Italy: THOU SHALT NOT LAUGH IN PUBLIC. I swear it’s one of the 10 Commandments.

Amanda says in her defense, “They’ll come ‘round to seeing my side of the story”.
But what about the victim’s side? Let’s just hope the judge can keep
his hormones out of the courtroom. Perhaps the prosecution can show him
a few episodes from Perry Mason or Colombo as a sort of counter-defense
measure.

Obama's Inauguration - as Seen from Abroad

2009-01-19T03:21:18-06:00

As the granddaughter of Italian immigrants, America has always signified for me, a place of hope, success, progress, and a place where anyone – despite their background -- could make it if they wanted to. Those words on the base of the Statue of Liberty, "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…” have long stood out as a reminder to every American whose ancestors came from another land. A gift from France, she proudly stands as a beacon to those who long for a better life.

When those towers fell right at her very feet, the entire world was shaken. Living in Italy, bustling Milan fell silent. People wept openly in the streets, candlelight vigils were held in front of the Embassy, and overnight, American flags sprung up on nearly every balcony, over car windows and across store fronts. Despite her gaping wound, everyone knew that America would stand upright again, and shine her light across the globe. I was proud to be American and, as such, a spokesperson for a country looked up to by so many from so far.

Sadly, almost as fast as those flags went up, they disappeared. Solidarity turned to cynicism, defending the innocent turned to war profiteering, and candlelight vigils became hostile street protests. Anti-American graffiti was splayed across every wall and, after more than once getting mobbed, I was afraid to drive my car with those glaring Michigan plates. For those of us living abroad, the hostility was palpable. The last 7 years have been sown with international discord, personal discomfort, and the depressing fact that democratic America was not only looked down upon, but was driven into the same category usually reserved for despot dictators.

With the arrival onto the political scene of the improbable candidate, Barack Obama, a sea change seemed to be brewing. With his election, it felt more like a tsunami. In Rome, Bangladeshi car washers would give me the thumbs up when seeing my ‘Obama 08’ bumper sticker, Italian newspapers followed his ascent almost as closely as their own elections, and Europeans gathered in pubs and piazzas from Scotland to Sicily to watch the election results throughout the night.

With Barack Obama’s inauguration, the swearing in of a son of an immigrant who yearned for a better life, a man without a European-like political dynasty to prop him up, a man who embodies the very ‘melting pot’ that is America, we have shown the world that once again, what America truly represents:
that it is still a place where anyone can rise to greatness; where an education at top universities is possible, despite your meager means; where the oldest democracy in the world can still shift power without violence, corruption or coups and where a house built by slaves can one day be inhabited by a mixed race family.

When Barack Obama takes his oath, once again, Lady Liberty can proudly shine her light and lead the way – bringing back hope to people, wherever they are, who look to her example for the very values that all of us Americans hold true, wherever we may be.