This is Camogli. We were nearing the end of our trip, only a few days more and back to Boston. We had discussed going to Porto Fino and last night mentioned it to Domenico. Our result was to catch a train to Santa Maria Liguria and then the ferry up the coast. After a quick continental breakfast I asked Vittorio if he would call us a cab.
So our plans changed. The driver, Luca spoke English very well...years in the states. His thought was, for the same money he would take us there in a more leisurely manner, stopping along the way at some of his favorites and just generally giving us a guided tour. Camogli is an old fishing village that still beautiful but a bit more gentrified. Amazing photo op. Next was an old church high above the water with a path along side that followed the coast in both directions. many stops and much laughter later we arrived in S.Maria, boarded the ferry and headed north. We had a wonderful trip north, stopping in 3 or 4 towns, including Porto Fino. Lunch on a hilly, rocky beach and then to the stazione for the return ride to Genoa.
Another wonderful meal with Domenico keeping the Asti Spumanti right where I thought it should be.
AM came and we had no plan so it was just a slow meander down via Roma and back. Spend the afternoon in the lobby writing postcards home...did you get them? Next door for stamps...
the world just changed! 3:30 in Genoa is 9:30 in NYC. 9:30, 9/11 in NYC! In our room we watched as cameras rolled on showing horror after horror. Stunned, sad, shaken and totally unnerved.
As we went to our seats that night the dining room was quiet. Every guest and every member of the staff going through the motions. If there had ever been a distinction between us it was gone, obliterated by mad men thousands of miles away. Domenico and the kitchen did themselves proud that night, serving up food and solace as needed. We were far from home, but still among wonderful, warm and caring people.
Our 9/11 experience showed that despite horrific acts by terribly misguided men that basically your fellow man is a good person. His first reaction is to help, not abandon.
Thank you all. Domenico, Vittorio, Luca and the other great people of Genoa for your just being you.
Everyone here talks funny! I'm 10 and can't understand what anyone is saying. Ike is President, Korea ending, Dad at work, Mom at home, a new brother on the way...life is normal. Except my Uncle and Grandmother are 1000 miles to the south. Upheaval in its first version. South to north, a couple of years here then a new home in Natick. And back to Everett. By this time I understand everyone and there are two or three more...oldest of 11, so this is normal?
The time frame of ten years, 53/63 is one that shows huge change in everyone's way of living. We go from Korea to Viet Nam. One police action to a more vicious one. There are constants...dead is dead! Mom at home is quickly being replaced by a new normal. Equal rights gets a big boost from economic reality, without two incomes a family is in trouble.
Going to the corner to "flip" cards or coins with your pals is also on the way out. Organized sports are in. "Play dates" haven't been heard of yet, but not that far off. Howdy Doody and the Peanut Gallery meet the "Fonz". I go from 10 to 20 and visit Italy via USN for first time. Naples of 1963 was not the best way to be introduced. Other stops on this tour include; Marseilles (1st aircraft carrier to go there...10 years before the next), Athens, Istanbul, Barcelona, Palermo...the money you would spend for that trip now, wow!
That 10 years in the life of major league baseball was dramatic. Everything in professional sports is predicated on the paying customer. If you don't get as many as you want you move, ie: Giants, Dodgers, Browns, A's, ad nauseum. Or,
you expand, Minnesota, LA to start, eventually doubling the number of teams and overpaid ballplayers, about 400 new millionaires per season. Now for every action there is an equal, but opposite reaction. With the onset of expansion more players are needed. Simple solution #1, bring them up from the minors. #2, bring them in from Cuba, Latin America, #3, forget the color line. Green trumps bigotry!
So now we have a polyglot baseball scene, what next? Negro leagues fade from scene, hundreds of former players no longer have a job or recognition. Minor leagues follow suit. Pacific Coast League, the highest independent league aligns with MLB. All independent leagues collapse. Structure of minors goes from; D,C,B,A,AA and AAA to low/high A, AA and AAA. Your local venue folds. TV owns the game. Instead of an inexpensive night out with the family it's TV dinners in front of an ever expanding screen. I'm sorry but I don't see which are pro's and which are con's, for that matter is it progress? Is progress inherently good? Am I just another old man venting? Remember, when there are two sides to a question the odds are constant 50/50! I may be right!
Almost everyone reading this knows that I am not a religious person, but I do believe in "Divine retribution", I've seen it!
Virtually every male that I know has at some point in his life been figuratively dragged, shackled into the one place in the world that no man belongs...the lingerie department. Some evil female sees the need to "get your input"! BS! The biggest perv in the world knows not to advertise. This is not a place you can safely go. If, no, when , you are asked "how does this look", consider yourself absolutely doomed! There is no way you can truthfully, successfully answer that kind of question.
While there probably isn't any salvation from this diabolical female quest there can be retribution!
...as you enter the building, the first thing you will see are rows of benches. Not designed for comfort, just something to allow you to relax a moment and get off your feet.But, they are full! Of long faced unhappy women. No men, no children, just women. The men and and children are wandering through the building in amazement. One spectacular exhibit after another, IMAX, dioramas, you name it. Where? You asked...
on the Mall!
Not just any mall, but the mall in Washington, D.C., and the place? The Air and Space Museum, the ,most visited museun in the world. Go, enjoy, check out those benches!
Looking out the window of our apartment has been a calming exercise for me. A normal day in Rome, for me starts very early with a long walk. Always with camera! By long I mean 2 or 3 hours, distance irrelevant. I switched to digital on our second trip mostly because of weight, portability and cost. So I would return from each walk with hundreds of new pictures. Frequently Grace and I would return to these locations later for a more peaceful and leisurely viewing. First picture, sunrise, no Grace. Second shot, noon or so with Grace and so on.
After our tourist time there would be the "Roman Resident Hour
", with a beer perhaps and certainly more pix. Next, being totally hungry an evening meal. In/out depending on our desires and followed by our version of passagiata (promenade). An evening beverage and home. My version of relaxed may not be yours, but I do not remember ever feeling so satisfied as after a day or two like these.
The apartments we have rented are always in the same general area, Campo dei Fiori. If, in the future we return so will the next. The shots I take at dusk are almost a therapy. Rome is not quiet. I am not a farmer. My upbringing was city and I love it. Noise is part of the grand plan. These pictures depict a quiet time of day that is brief but relished. I wish that Grace, my camera and I were there, enveloped by the noisy tranquility of Rome
even as I type these words.
Line, form and her use of color in a heavily industrialized medium make this French painter one of my current favorites.
Everett, Mass in the '50's was a city of nearly 48,000 people. You could, if young and inspired actually walk into Boston. Of course the T only cost 10 cents...so much for inspiration.
The majority of the people were first or second generation Italian. The block we lived on was a bit more mixed, whites, blacks, catholics, protestants...but all definitely working class.Our parents worked at trucking companies, paint factories, steel mills and restaurants. Large families still the norm. The street was our playground...tag football...go to the 1st hydrant, cut left and I'll hit you! Stickball...we used a broomstick and half a rubber ball or an old clothes pin, no one could throw one straight! Street hockey well into the dark. No one got hurt because the snow slowed the cars to a crawl to start with. Camping out in the Truman's back yard, across the street. Lionel trains in Bill and Carl's cellar. Ok you'll notice there are so many things missing that today's kid takes for granted. Not going there! Imagination was there and we had fun. Our parents knew we were around somewhere and only had to yell or send a sister to get you.
We grew, went through puberty and discovered that not all girls were like your sisters. And, sitting on Billy's stoop, we discussed and solved the world's problems. Why not we were 15 or 16 and had more solutions than the world had problems. Sadly we were wrong. But, I''ll always look back on those hours arguing, debating, discussing and resolving as the best of my youth.
All of us are older, I was 15 in 1958. Most have moved. Some have died. I miss the good hearted companionship of the time, the place and my friends. Today's 21st century world may still have these warm enclaves but they've escaped me. Age? Perception? Truth? Convince me with your answer!
This is Camogli. We were nearing the end of our trip, only a few days more and back to Boston. We had discussed going to Porto Fino and last night mentioned it to Domenico. Our result was to catch a train to Santa Maria Liguria and then the ferry up the coast. After a quick continental breakfast I asked Vittorio if he would call us a cab.
