I was following the big snowstorm of the Mid-Atlantic states that recently hit the U.S., but not really from a meteorology standpoint, but rather an etymology one. As a geographically-challenged American (you know, the ones that end up in last place against even the Albanians, who did not even know up until 1999 that there was a world outside their borders), I started thinking about the mid-Atlantic and where, that was exactly.
Tuesday, February 9
Northern Enlightenment
Friday, February 5
Food Fight
Just when we thought it was safe to enjoy ethnic cuisine…It wasn’t so long ago that you couldn’t find a thai eggroll or a piece of anago anywhere in the boot. The Italians with their fine gastronomic sense, liked it so much, they even ate Italian whenever they were abroad – complaining between courses that it just wasn’t ‘buono’ like home.
And so it comes as no surprise that in this age of intolerance for things ethnic (think: economic immigrants), that the battle would rage right in one’s pasta plate. Not long ago, the fascists decided to purify the Italian language, using propaganda and posters in order to convince the population to follow suit (much like they do in France and Quebèc today). Today, the poster child for this new intolerance is a McDonald’s burger no less. But, hang on -- that’s American!
Wednesday, February 3
Francesca Maggi's Strange but True!
Some of this is a bit old, but I loved the 'news' so much, I thought I'd share with you some stories from far and wide...
But...notice who's advertising...although those kids look anything but Italian, it's an Italian grocery store.
While in the UK, those Brits love to talk about the weather. But now, they have a whole lot more to talk about! The snow? Well, kinda.
Turns out, the BBC got so mad at the weather "forecasters" (quotes totally intentional), when they didn't predict the huge snowfall - they put at risk the fishermen who depend upon some measure of accuracy. As a result, they want to shut down the office and replace them all. There's talk of using the Swedes instead.
I guess from Lapland, they know a snowstorm when they see one.
And, back in Italy, Rome continues its march to turn the once-prized 'Most Green City in Europe' to the 'Most Green City near the Sahara'. Instead of bothering to spray the tall palms in the EUR region, they decided to simply do away with them instead. And again, along the once-beautifully tree-lined via Trieste, we now can have uninhibited views of the graffiti and smog.
And yet, the city continues to wring their hands over what to do about the small particle pollution and relative high incidence of asthma and other costly maladies. Couldn't we get the pollution guy in the same room as the parks guy? I sometimes feel it's like Arafat & Sharon...
Sunday, January 31
Tante Belle Cose - A new decade dawns in Italy
January may have just ended, but the New Year is ushering in all kinds of new & wonderful happenings here in Italy:
I returned to Rome to find a new building had gone up within the shopping center they’re building in my neighborhood. Generally, I’m against such constructions (especially since…do we really need another shopping mall in Rome??), but I was nonetheless impressed. The shopping center itself has taken years to erect, and so, to find a whole spanking new building (nicely designed, I might add) where a huge pit had been just two months previously, well, I thought was pretty cool.
For every expat on earth who ever fled Italy, refusing to close your accounts -- you can come out of hiding!! Close them with relish and never see another mountain of bills – errr, I mean bank statements – from Cassa di or Banca del ever again.
Thursday, January 28
Cleaning Casa
Saturday, January 23
The Roman Calendar
Now that it’s a new year, and everyone is hanging up every version of their calendars, I came to the realization that I really didn’t need one. Living in Italy, you can practically set your clock to the food cycle. And I don’t mean just the in-season fruits and vegetables: I’m thinking desserts.
Thursday, January 21
It's a Dog's Life
There is one person* who is truly grateful to be back home in Rome and that’s Trevor-the-dog. Sure, what to the rest of us would appear (justifiably so) as mini-obstacle courses as you walk down the sidewalk, and pock-marked palazzi stained by jet streams of spray, for a dog, it’s pure heaven.
After spending 2 months in the USA, Trevor is determined to make sure his scent is left on every curb, car tire, tree and tree stump far and wide. America may have a love affair with dogs, but you’d never know it – canines are truly to be seen and not smelled.
In the USA, there are approximately 77.5 million dogs; that’s nearly 30% of the population and with 39% of U.S. households owning at least one dog.
But, you’d never know it. People walk their dogs, but, the dogs are not allowed off a leash, so they can’t roam the huge park – it’s like inviting a dehydrated person to a pool and then not letting them jump right in.
In the city, every tree is fenced in so no peeing allowed. While in the suburbs, dogs can’t pee on trees or in yards, even if said yard contains a hydrant. People would rap on the windows if they so much saw my dog sniffing the grass on their lawn. I personally think Trevor spent two whole months ‘holding it’. Not only that, I still cannot tell how it is that large dogs in the suburbs get to run – it’s simply not permitted. We are probably modifying their genetic makeup with this practice; soon we’ll have the dog equivalent of penguins.
Trevor’s elation of his newfound freedom of being allowed into restaurants, bars and stores is truly palpable. What a treat! He gets to eat the crumbs left by the croissant & cappuccino eaters and beg for more. Many people may find this practice barbaric, but I still attest that dogs are as dirty as the bottom of your shoes; although that’s not to say that I’d want an Olde English Sheepdog drooling on my dining table.
And so, you’d pass people – in cities or in the burbs – talk about your dogs, admire them, but never allowing them to leave their mark, so to speak, even if it was on the trunk of an old oak tree. It was like a fashion runway of pets; dogs here and there, making their turn and taking off; not a single one stopping to smell the newly baptized roses.
They couldn't: they were as dry as a dog bone.
*term used loosely






