Once in a While Something Takes You Back

Once in a while something takes you back. Something you see or smell or taste makes you a kid again. It’s the best thing about the Interior Stadium. Probably happens to me more often because I have a lot of back to go back to. Last Friday my wife and I were in San Francisco and we decided to do some shopping and have lunch in North Beach Went to Café Pucchini which is kind of rustic but has good food. My wife ordered a bowl of Pappardelle with meat sauce and when it arrived her whole face went all soft. She tasted and said “It’s my mothers gravy” My pasta was great but hers was that “takes you back” moment. Shouldn’t have been a surprise because the Lady who cooks comes from the same city in Tuscany where my wife’s family is from.

Now about one of my “takes you back” moments. Our Italian daughter Valentina has an interest in her grandmothers house in Puglia. Way down in the heel of the boot. The nearest city you might know is Lecce. Before we went the first time in 2008 Vale spent a lot of time telling us about the heat, humidity and mosquitoes. I think she wanted to play it down so we wouldn’t be disappointed. For me it was like going back to the Texas Gulf Coast when I was a kid. Only the beach was better and the water was bluer and Valentina’s family was absolutely wonderful. I couldn’t imagine a better vacation.

She Was Almost Perfect

(An allegory of Italy)

As she strolled down the Via Casouli every eye turned to follow her. She walked with the languid grace every Italian girl used to try to emulate. Her dark hair cascaded to her shoulder blades, her black dress fit to absolute perfection, her makeup was perfect, her tan seamless. Her designer sunglasses, jewelry, purse, watch, and shoes were all of a piece with her image. She glided along as if in a bubble, taking no visible notice of the attention she attracted. Everyone turned to look, men stole furtive glances or stared openly, women evaluated every aspect, looking for something to copy. She was the model of style and beauty for an entire world and there used to be hundreds of her on the streets in every big Italian city, beautiful, refined, and elegant. You saw her and her male counterparts all over Italy. It was the style. I came back a few years later and there she was, still beautiful, but something was lacking, her clothes and accessories weren’t as sophisticated, she walked faster and without the grace she had possessed. As she passed my eyes followed her and there on the back of her right calf was an ugly Goth tattoo. Like I said she was almost perfect.

Talking with some Florentines I found what some of the reasons for my disappointment are. Most of the fashion companies headquartered in Florence found upgrading the historic buildings and installing the information systems they need way too expensive. They moved out of the center. And all those beautiful staffers went with them. Just one of those unintended consequences of the information age. But we still have our memories.