Taking a Break

Just back from a 5-day trip to Rome. I don’t like to talk much about my personal life, so some of you may not know that I am no longer with Alice—for 4 years now. Nicest woman and best mom in the world, and we had a great life together.  Of course, being who I am, that wasn’t adequate. ‘Nuff said.

Anyway, I met up with Meena. No, I ain’t telling folks about my feelings for a woman in a blog. For that, you have to buy me several beers.  

So Rome is nice. Great food, great wine, old historic stuff…dang near perfect.  Italian is a great language--Hell, after a few glasses of wine I think everyone can speak Italian. ‘Train Arrival’ is ‘Treno Arrivi’. Or maybe it is ‘Treni Arrivo’.  Either way, you add a vowel to the end of any word, and it seems you are very close to speaking Italian-o.

It also helps that I am a big Dean Martin fan. So we took the open top tour bus around town, and I was able to share an earbud with Meena so that she, too, could enjoy a Deano medley of Mambo Italiano, Volare, and Amore.  Unfortunately, I only know a few lyrics, which I sang loudly, repeatedly, and off-key. Yes, I know how to test a relationship.  

Mmmmm....Tiramesu 

The Japanese tourists on the bus heard me bellowing ‘When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, it’s Amore’ and started posing for pictures with me, convinced that I was a famous Italian singer.  I turned my back to sign an autograph, and Meena took the opportunity to slip away to shop for shoes.  I was able to track her 2 hours later to a place serving Tiramesù, where she was complimenting the house wine and hitting on the 20-something waiter with a gold chain and wearing a pair of $300 sunglasses.  Cougaro. Cougarini. Something.

Anyway, that was my trip to Rome. And Pompei. Delightful break.

Oh ya--there was a full moon last night, and with ‘Amore’ still in my head, I started signing outside about 10 pm and damn near got shot by a Nepalese guard.  Dude, the Taliban ain’t going to attack singing Amore. Of course, maybe he didn’t appreciate my musical talent. Just as the French like Jerry Lewis for no apparent reason, it seems I am loved only by Japanese tourists in Rome. I am sure the world will catch up one day!!  


Or not.