This past weekend, there was an amazing Flea Market here in Rome. Amazing, not for its size or scope, but for the fact that it took place in the first place.
You see, Italy still remains unwaveringly beholden to the Bella Figura lifestyle, in all its forms of expression. And, selling your used belongings is one of the last bastions. In fact, for Italians, they believe that the Mercato delle Pulci means that the stuff most certainly is full of fleas. Basically, you will never find great pickings perched curbside in Italy. For us New Yorkers, rummaging down Madison Avenue was almost a weekly pastime. I have furnished entire kitchens, recovered gorgeous sofas and resurrected fine chaise lounges from the pickings.
In the U.S. suburbs, signs even on the haughtiest of boulevards call out ‘Garage Sale’. Almost everyone takes a drive by to see what's on offer.
In Italy, these signs are tantamount to declaring, “My husband ran off with his 20 yr. old lover leaving me unemployed and penniless and my children in torn rags playing in the gutters, so I have nothing left but to sell my dishes."
There is, however, another reason for this madness. The Tax Man. Basically, the government wants to get its hands on “unofficial business” or, the 20% Value Added Tax receipts (even though you already paid in spades at the cashiers' for the items in the first place). So, if you wanted to hold a garage sale, you’d have to first obtain a permit (5 years), then open a business (another 2 years and $48000 later), and then issue receipts for your business engagement. In fact, since the advent of Ebay, the government continues to wrack its collective brains about how they can ‘stick it’ to all these mega-millionaires out there selling their Spiderman action figures, old Topo Gigios and outdated Readers Digest cassettes.
Thus, in building after building, apartment after apartment, people confine in sort of makeshift museums the hordes of grandma’s china, huge ugly-as-sin dressers, clothes, nightstands, videotapes and every sort of object inherited over the decades – never to be thrown out and certainly not to be sold. Italy's housing shortage is not due to the fact that apartments are filled, but rather, that they are left empty as warehouses of generations of belongings.
In the event that you actually do find an apartment rental, you are forced to live with the cheesy junk as it was left, circa 1947. And I ask, what kind of Bella Figura do you cut when friends come over for dinner?
Monday, October 20
Friday, October 17
Those Dastardly Brits
Once again, I am compelled by the absurdity of the situation to look beyond my borders to bring you some news: A quick look through the local papers, and it would appear the Brits like making as many inane laws as the Italians. Whereas usually in Italy it's the judges who bring down wildly incomprehensible sentences...like when one said a woman who is raped while wearing jeans is obviously consenting to the act...for the difficulty of taking them on/off (never mind she might have a gun to her head)...Or, that 36 year olds living at home are entitled to an allowance.
But these days, it's the UK that seems to be taking the cake.
- First they are toying with a ruling that would allow -- I repeat, allow, teachers to have sex with students, even minors. Or, not make it a felony, in the very least.
- Then, in a country in which dozens of young men have died by knifings, a fashion house decided to take advantage of the exploding market and sell a coat with a knife already in the pocket...I guess they're putting new meaning to the word pocketknife. They're looking into a law against this one.
- But, to moderate the violence, they passed a law that it would be a crime for parents to hit children which leave marks. But, many lawmakers don't think that goes far enough, so they want to include slapping in the bill, too. So, who's going to tell the tots what their rights are? And, how to dial emergency when it should happen?
- And lately, the government has been entertaining the possibility of introducing (or not) Sharia law in the UK. Considering that the number 1 name over there is now Mohammmed, perhaps that wouldn't be such a hot idea right about now.
And the UK Independent newspaper actually had the nerve to whinge...(and directly quote Byron I might add), "that in Italy, if it's fun, there's probably a law that outlaws it"...
At least Italy appears to be going in the right direction!
But these days, it's the UK that seems to be taking the cake.
- First they are toying with a ruling that would allow -- I repeat, allow, teachers to have sex with students, even minors. Or, not make it a felony, in the very least.
- Then, in a country in which dozens of young men have died by knifings, a fashion house decided to take advantage of the exploding market and sell a coat with a knife already in the pocket...I guess they're putting new meaning to the word pocketknife. They're looking into a law against this one.
- But, to moderate the violence, they passed a law that it would be a crime for parents to hit children which leave marks. But, many lawmakers don't think that goes far enough, so they want to include slapping in the bill, too. So, who's going to tell the tots what their rights are? And, how to dial emergency when it should happen?
- And lately, the government has been entertaining the possibility of introducing (or not) Sharia law in the UK. Considering that the number 1 name over there is now Mohammmed, perhaps that wouldn't be such a hot idea right about now.
And the UK Independent newspaper actually had the nerve to whinge...(and directly quote Byron I might add), "that in Italy, if it's fun, there's probably a law that outlaws it"...
At least Italy appears to be going in the right direction!
Tuesday, October 14
Francesca Maggi's...Strange But True!
It's not only the markets that are behaving erratically...it seems everyone is losin' it these days...
- In an unprecedented display of pent up hostility, a man hopped over the counter and started pummeling a Post Office clerk.
I say it was probably for refusing to sell stamps or take a letter because the address wasn't written in black ink. And, his frustration was probably at the hands of the same teller who attempted to refuse my letter because I wrote UK instead of Gran Bretagna.
So now we know the real reason behind those thick glass windows...it's not for the oodles of money they handle on a daily basis, it's to prevent incidents like this one from occurring. Or, as a clerk smugly responded when I said I could not hear her through the glass, "That's what it's for".
- And, speaking of being pummelled, a High School Prof of fine arts was socked in the face by an irate student. After 32 years of service, he has decided to quit his job.
Now I'm not one to incite violence, but...have we perhaps finally discovered one way to get these guys to relinquish their positions so that younger people can finally step in and make their way up the ladder?
- They instituted at the Office of the President of the Republic, turnstiles to track employees' comings and goings in an effort to reduce absenteeism. Already, absenteeism had gone way down.
But one guy who had gone hunting with a friend (not Dick Cheney) during office hours and was shot in the leg, later claimed it had happened while at work and tried to claim workman's comp among other things.
Thankfully, they have since proved him wrong and are throwing the book at him. He may -- I stress may -- even lose his job.
- A woman who nearly missed ending up paralyzed by work from a fraudulent dentist went and filed a complaint with the 'authorities'. Their esteemed response? 'Take your case to the satirical comic show, Striscia la Notizie (a sort of SNL of Italy) and you might get faster and better results.' Well, that's what she did.
- And finally, in the ultimate test of sheer chutzpah, two on-duty taxi drivers were caught on film jumping out of their cabs just in time to steal two vespas and hide them, before going back on duty...They too, will most likely get to keep their jobs...
- In an unprecedented display of pent up hostility, a man hopped over the counter and started pummeling a Post Office clerk.
I say it was probably for refusing to sell stamps or take a letter because the address wasn't written in black ink. And, his frustration was probably at the hands of the same teller who attempted to refuse my letter because I wrote UK instead of Gran Bretagna.
So now we know the real reason behind those thick glass windows...it's not for the oodles of money they handle on a daily basis, it's to prevent incidents like this one from occurring. Or, as a clerk smugly responded when I said I could not hear her through the glass, "That's what it's for".
- And, speaking of being pummelled, a High School Prof of fine arts was socked in the face by an irate student. After 32 years of service, he has decided to quit his job.
Now I'm not one to incite violence, but...have we perhaps finally discovered one way to get these guys to relinquish their positions so that younger people can finally step in and make their way up the ladder?
- They instituted at the Office of the President of the Republic, turnstiles to track employees' comings and goings in an effort to reduce absenteeism. Already, absenteeism had gone way down.
But one guy who had gone hunting with a friend (not Dick Cheney) during office hours and was shot in the leg, later claimed it had happened while at work and tried to claim workman's comp among other things.
Thankfully, they have since proved him wrong and are throwing the book at him. He may -- I stress may -- even lose his job.
- A woman who nearly missed ending up paralyzed by work from a fraudulent dentist went and filed a complaint with the 'authorities'. Their esteemed response? 'Take your case to the satirical comic show, Striscia la Notizie (a sort of SNL of Italy) and you might get faster and better results.' Well, that's what she did.
- And finally, in the ultimate test of sheer chutzpah, two on-duty taxi drivers were caught on film jumping out of their cabs just in time to steal two vespas and hide them, before going back on duty...They too, will most likely get to keep their jobs...
Saturday, October 11
The Hospitality of Hosting Ospiti
I’ve had wonderful friends from Milan staying with me this week; quite a houseful with their two little kids. Needless to say, it’s been great and very unstressful.
That’s because, when you have Italian house guests, you really don’t have to do anything save for a pot of espresso each morning. Most Italians don’t even do breakfast, and if they do, it consists of a few cookies dunked in their milk or bambiniccino (my word).
But, even better, you don’t have to do any tidying up prior to arrival. In fact, you can remove every single thing from every single surface, including the pillows on the couch, sterilize the kitchen counters, shine up the fixtures until they glow, and banish the dog to the balcony – with no effect whatsoever: No matter what you do, when they first walk in, the house will still be considered by all an absolute wreck ready for demolition. In fact, your guests will appear a little nervous thinking that homeless people will be at the door at any moment to rifle through the rubble. No matter what you do, your house will never ever come close to the cleanliness bar set by a typical Italian household.
The next advantage is, you don’t ever have to do laundry. Incredibly, considering that this is the land of high-thread-count Frette sheets, Armani towels, and hand-spun linens, you can just save your money. That’s because, Italian house guests come with their own linens. At first, I thought it was a most-outlandish practice, especially since they don’t know my bed size (U.S. sizes no less). But now, I kind of revel in the lack of work involved post-visit.
And, finally, if you cook in, since no Italian worth their sale fino would ever entrust an American to cook their pasta (and rightly so), you get time off on that front, too.
I have now understood why the word Ospite in Italian means both “host” and “guest” -- they are one in the same!
That’s because, when you have Italian house guests, you really don’t have to do anything save for a pot of espresso each morning. Most Italians don’t even do breakfast, and if they do, it consists of a few cookies dunked in their milk or bambiniccino (my word).
But, even better, you don’t have to do any tidying up prior to arrival. In fact, you can remove every single thing from every single surface, including the pillows on the couch, sterilize the kitchen counters, shine up the fixtures until they glow, and banish the dog to the balcony – with no effect whatsoever: No matter what you do, when they first walk in, the house will still be considered by all an absolute wreck ready for demolition. In fact, your guests will appear a little nervous thinking that homeless people will be at the door at any moment to rifle through the rubble. No matter what you do, your house will never ever come close to the cleanliness bar set by a typical Italian household.
The next advantage is, you don’t ever have to do laundry. Incredibly, considering that this is the land of high-thread-count Frette sheets, Armani towels, and hand-spun linens, you can just save your money. That’s because, Italian house guests come with their own linens. At first, I thought it was a most-outlandish practice, especially since they don’t know my bed size (U.S. sizes no less). But now, I kind of revel in the lack of work involved post-visit.
And, finally, if you cook in, since no Italian worth their sale fino would ever entrust an American to cook their pasta (and rightly so), you get time off on that front, too.
I have now understood why the word Ospite in Italian means both “host” and “guest” -- they are one in the same!
Wednesday, October 8
Attenzione Tutte le Mamme!
This is so serious, I've decided to make my very own PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT. Of course, it's a weak attempt on my part to change centuries of Fear of Air in the Italian mamma psyche. But, there is one thing that trumps all the superstitions and unfounded fears: Health Issues. Take one look at the hordes of people visiting the local pharmacies here, and you'll see what I mean. But I digress.
This little bit of news, not picked up by any Italian newspaper, lest it spark a mad rush on pediatricians' offices, hospitals, psychologists and, not least of which, appliance stores, is earth shattering in its boldness:
PLACING FANS IN AN INFANT'S BEDROOM WILL REDUCE THE LIKELIHOOD OF SIDS - SUDDEN INFANT DEATH SYNDROME.
I'll write in Italian, just for good measure in the hopes that just one mamma out there actually reads my blog:
UN VENTILATORE NELLA CAMERA DI LETTO DI UN BEBE' POTREBBE PREVENIRE LA MORTE IN CULLA (SIDS)
Obviously, that implies that the fans are turned on each evening.
And of course, for you Italians out there, that would also imply that the fan goes on in your bedroom since that's probably where the baby will be for the next 12 years of his life.
Hopefully, this Public Service Announcement can stop the shutting of all windows, doors, sealing of cracks and other means of restricting all air to the little bambini of the Bel Paese.
Click here to read full report (or see side panel Notizie).
This little bit of news, not picked up by any Italian newspaper, lest it spark a mad rush on pediatricians' offices, hospitals, psychologists and, not least of which, appliance stores, is earth shattering in its boldness:
PLACING FANS IN AN INFANT'S BEDROOM WILL REDUCE THE LIKELIHOOD OF SIDS - SUDDEN INFANT DEATH SYNDROME.
I'll write in Italian, just for good measure in the hopes that just one mamma out there actually reads my blog:
UN VENTILATORE NELLA CAMERA DI LETTO DI UN BEBE' POTREBBE PREVENIRE LA MORTE IN CULLA (SIDS)
Obviously, that implies that the fans are turned on each evening.
And of course, for you Italians out there, that would also imply that the fan goes on in your bedroom since that's probably where the baby will be for the next 12 years of his life.
Hopefully, this Public Service Announcement can stop the shutting of all windows, doors, sealing of cracks and other means of restricting all air to the little bambini of the Bel Paese.
Click here to read full report (or see side panel Notizie).
Friday, October 3
Italian Traditions: Something to just die over
I’m sorry to report that the old lady upstairs passed away. She was 89. How I found out about this of course, wasn’t from the fact that I no longer heard her drag her daily chair across my forehead each morning at 6:25am sharp. Nor, was it the sudden drop in centimeters of dust and threads that she enjoyed shaking out over my balcony each and every day.
I discovered the event upon coming home to find the front door of our building layered in 29 ft. long grey velvet drapes with gold trim. I naturally figured that either the Pope was coming to visit or that Liberace had just moved into that empty first floor apartment.
Turns out, I was wrong on both accounts.
In Italy, you will not find the traditional funeral parlours as depicted in “Six Feet Under”. The funeral parlour comes to you, so to speak. They decorate the doorways, and for a few days you get to contemplate the sands of time passing; along with the bonus of feeling like you’re going to either meet your maker or the Wizard of Oz each time you bring home your groceries.
Thankfully, people aren’t laid in state in the home anymore. There’s a nice little room right at the hospital for these sorts of activities. Very cold and uninviting, people congregate in the corridors as if waiting to give blood. I almost expected to get some cookies and juice after paying my last respects. Actually, I believe this is either seriously poor marketing, or a strong case for unusual efficiency.
Think about it: “Mamma, look on the bright side! If the operation doesn’t go so well, we’ll all be waiting for you just downstairs near the lobby!”
Funerals themselves are much the same as in the U.S., if they take place in big cities. But in little towns, everyone walks to the cemetery behind the hearse with singing choir people bringing up the tail. It may not be Six Feet Under, but, it sure can feel a lot like the Godfather Part II.
I discovered the event upon coming home to find the front door of our building layered in 29 ft. long grey velvet drapes with gold trim. I naturally figured that either the Pope was coming to visit or that Liberace had just moved into that empty first floor apartment.
Turns out, I was wrong on both accounts.
In Italy, you will not find the traditional funeral parlours as depicted in “Six Feet Under”. The funeral parlour comes to you, so to speak. They decorate the doorways, and for a few days you get to contemplate the sands of time passing; along with the bonus of feeling like you’re going to either meet your maker or the Wizard of Oz each time you bring home your groceries.
Thankfully, people aren’t laid in state in the home anymore. There’s a nice little room right at the hospital for these sorts of activities. Very cold and uninviting, people congregate in the corridors as if waiting to give blood. I almost expected to get some cookies and juice after paying my last respects. Actually, I believe this is either seriously poor marketing, or a strong case for unusual efficiency.
Think about it: “Mamma, look on the bright side! If the operation doesn’t go so well, we’ll all be waiting for you just downstairs near the lobby!”
Funerals themselves are much the same as in the U.S., if they take place in big cities. But in little towns, everyone walks to the cemetery behind the hearse with singing choir people bringing up the tail. It may not be Six Feet Under, but, it sure can feel a lot like the Godfather Part II.
Wednesday, October 1
Tante Belle Cose - Sept08
Well, this month has been filled with good news--largely because in September, my free papers returned to print, so, I've been able to find the good news to begin with! But, above and beyond the fact that Alitalia got it's flight license renewed (and you know, in some circles, that's not such good news), here are a few choice pickings:
TrenItalia caved to pressure and rescinded its dog ban...Trevor is quite pleased about this one. And don't worry, all you non-dog people out there, he still prefers traveling in his doggy bag.
In the meantime, no one over there can truly explain how those dozens of dogs wreak more havoc than those millions of passengers...
Speaking of cleaning things up...my very own late night drives around town can confirm that the prostitutes are out of business (at least the street walkers, anyway). Rome's mayor started giving fines to those who stopped for a "chat" and, lo and behold...business was down.
Not that he truly resolved the issue -- turns out they've just set up shop outside the city limits.
The EU has brought down the ax on the Telecoms Companies -- stating that the charge for text messaging (sms) is out of hand and out of line. Naturally, Italian sms msgs cost even more than the rest of the Europe. So, look for declining phone bills shortly.
Perhaps because Italy is the land of Dante, Cicero, poets and priests...could it be that our messages are just longer, thus justifying the cost?
And, Italy finally joins most of the real world, in that little children can finally take their mothers' last names. This is Big Stuff and all the more important given the divorce rate.
Although, it did lead one commentator to speculate, 'what with the Mamma-society we already are, what will be left now for Dear ol'Dad??'
TrenItalia caved to pressure and rescinded its dog ban...Trevor is quite pleased about this one. And don't worry, all you non-dog people out there, he still prefers traveling in his doggy bag.
In the meantime, no one over there can truly explain how those dozens of dogs wreak more havoc than those millions of passengers...
Speaking of cleaning things up...my very own late night drives around town can confirm that the prostitutes are out of business (at least the street walkers, anyway). Rome's mayor started giving fines to those who stopped for a "chat" and, lo and behold...business was down.
Not that he truly resolved the issue -- turns out they've just set up shop outside the city limits.
The EU has brought down the ax on the Telecoms Companies -- stating that the charge for text messaging (sms) is out of hand and out of line. Naturally, Italian sms msgs cost even more than the rest of the Europe. So, look for declining phone bills shortly.
Perhaps because Italy is the land of Dante, Cicero, poets and priests...could it be that our messages are just longer, thus justifying the cost?
And, Italy finally joins most of the real world, in that little children can finally take their mothers' last names. This is Big Stuff and all the more important given the divorce rate.
Although, it did lead one commentator to speculate, 'what with the Mamma-society we already are, what will be left now for Dear ol'Dad??'
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