We Are NOT the World

That a doctor should have any right, desire or choice in the matter, was regarded as irrelevant selfishness; his was not to choose, they said, only 'to serve.' Let them discover what kind of doctors their system will now produce. Let them discover, in their operating rooms and hospital wards, that it is not safe to place their lives in the hands of a man whose life they have throttled.

Ayn Rand - Atlas Shrugged


The next time you find yourself supporting or even romanticizing the idea of socialized medicine, I suggest you catch the next flight to Rome. Skip the normal stuff; the tours of the Coloseo, the Pantheon and the Fontana di Trevi. Instead, head straight for Policlinico Hospital right in the heart of Rome. You'll immediately notice how well-funded, safe, and clean it is and also what a high-level of technology is being used. Next you'll find out what patient care really means. Then make sure to have a friend in the hospital for something serious and have her tell you about how great she is being treated, how fantastic the staff is at their jobs and how much they care for each and every patient in the room (8 of them).

If that didn't come across clearly, I was being sarcastic, very, very sarcastic. My poor friend has been in the hospital here for like 10 days and is absolutely miserable. Being in a hospital for an extended period of time is already one of the worst things for anyone to go through but try doing it outside of the u.S. She's being treated poorly and with techniques that are dated and in a facility that one could call a "hospital" only in euphemistic terms. It makes me sick that people actually think that "free" health care is the way to go.

With the Ayn Rand quote in mind, ask yourself why Silvio Berlusconi, Italy's richest man, traveled to Cleveland, Ohio to have his heart surgery. I'm almost positive he didn't go to The Cleve for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame or to get a taste of America's hottest culinary scene (no joke) though maybe he stayed for it.

7/24/1978

"Oh but strawberries will never taste so good again and the thighs of women have lost their clutch!"

John Steinbeck's lament is a good one about getting older and how things will never be as good as they once were. Well, at least at age thirty, I have to disagree with Mr. Steinbeck. As for the former, strawberries are out of season right now but I just ate an amazing peach and the latter, well, that's a definite no.

If you toss out the last few months of my life, I can truly say I feel better than ever. Much room remains for improvement and growth but I think I have a solid foundation on which I can make it happen. In terms of physical health, I'm feeling great but want to be even better and more focused. Mental health is a far more complicated issue these days. I'm taking a beating but I'm fighting the good fight. The language is still a problem. But lately, I've become a whole lot more confident and in reality, I'm much better than I give myself credit for. Even if there are moments I go completely red in the face, I know that I will eventually be where I want to be. Rome is much less of a mystery than it was on my 28th and even 29th birthday. Not only the language, but the gestures, and the buses, just about everything is slowing down (except the drivers) and becoming more comprehensible (except the drivers). Though, I must admit that I took a bus one night recently that I thought was going in the direction of my apartment and I ended up getting lost for about 35 minutes in a neighborhood I'd never been in. However, I found my way home. A slip-up here and there is to be expected and it kind of made me laugh afterwards.

Sure, a lot of things aren't as I had expected them to be on this day but I never turned in that life plan that we were supposed to write in high school. Had I written that plan, I doubt I would have done, what I have done. I would have never celebrated my 21st birthday while living and working in Las Vegas, Nevada. I definitely wouldn't have celebrated my 23rd birthday in a stank cow-town known as Ellensburg (it doesn't smell anymore), Washington while attending Central Washington University after transferring from UW. And last but not least, not in my wildest dreams would I have planned to celebrate my 30th while living and working in Roma, Italy!

Maybe at age 40 or 50 I will have to bow to Steinbeck's words but at age 30 he's wrong on both accounts.

For a Laugh

After a two year visit to the United States, Michelangelo's David is returning to Italy......

His Proud Sponsors were:

Thanks Angela!

Like a Stone in the Sea

I don't know how to fully describe what's been happening to me over the last few weeks. In reality, I'm still fleshing things out. Life was good or so I thought. I was certain that A was A. I'm still certain A is A but life isn't so good. Lately, order has become a thing of the past for me. I used to know exactly what I had to do, whether it was for work, for Allie or whatever. Now I show up to lessons that were canceled. I hope this only because right now half of my students are on holiday so it's hard to keep track of who has lessons and who doesn't. However, I don't remember having this problem last summer.

My social life is also a bit strange at the moment. Maybe it's because I'm not working so much right now but I have no desire be at home but when I'm at home I have no desire to leave home, no desire to sleep, no desire to do much of anything. Don't get me wrong, I'm constantly doing things but a lot of the time I don't know if I'm doing it to do it or just to get out of the house. I'm really trying hard to not end up like Jon Favreau in Swingers, picture a broken and bearded man sitting alone on the floor of his empty apartment drinking orange juice from the bottle and eating beef jerky. I had planned to stay in last night and I was going to but then I got a phone call at 1:30 a.m. from some friends who were at a bar. A year ago I would have laughed, told them to bugger off and went back to bed with my beautiful wife. Now, I don't have a beautiful wife and I didn't have to work in the morning so I thought, "What the hell!" and caught a taxi a short while later.

When I meet new girls, I don't know what to say to them (this has always been a problem, now it's slightly different). Do I tell them my wife left me or just lie about most of my life and what I'm doing here and what I've done for the last seven years. It's amazing the number of times I've started sentences with the third person "We came to Rome..." and then I have to remember that it's only me now.

Back to the Well

Well, not exactly but I did work at the pub last night. A couple of the bartenders are on holiday right now so they asked me to fill in for the night. I need the money and knew it would be fun to get behind the bar again. I don't think I'll go back to work there but maybe I'll pick up shifts here and there in August while the hours are slow at the school. It would be a lot of fun to work there during the upcoming football season but I don't know if I could balance teaching and bartending but who knows.

Wallowing in My Own Crapulence

"With Smithers out of the way, I was free to wallow in my own crapulence"

Mr. Burns to the Springfield Police



I don't recall the particular Simpsons episode (perhaps when Maggie shoots Mr. Burns?) but I've always loved the phrase since. Kind of sums up how I'm feeling in a funny but poignant way. Besides not sleeping well as of late and not working much, things are fine, all things considered.

There have been a few bright spots for me though. For example, a friend was moving so she decided to donate a bunch of stuff to me including a printer and a tv! Sweet deal, no? Free tv's and printers don't fall from the sky. All I had to do was to go to her apartment and pick up the loot. Unfortunately, a tv isn't exactly something I can lug through the streets and into the subway. So I had to pony up the mouse for a cab, no problem. The cab ride cost me 17 euros. A few days later when I got around to setting up the tv, I discovered it doesn't work! At this point, it will not turn on at all. I assume that it worked for her and that this wasn't some sick joke being played at my expense but I'm more than a little irritated at the moment. In fact, tv's might start falling from the sky very soon.

I suppose that one doesn't count as a bright spot after all. Okay, here's one. My friends and I have been trying to set up a 5 on 5 soccer match for quite some time and last Wednesday we finally had the field reserved, the players signed up and we were ready to rediscover our glory days. With ten guys everyone pays five euros and it's a cheap night and a really good laugh for an hour. The field was reserved for 9 o'clock. Twenty after 9, there were four of us and for some reason the other guys didn't want to call it off for the night and slip out the side hatch as I had suggested at the start. Of course, I ended up spending twenty euros instead of five.

Oops, that one's not really a bright spot either.

Okay, here's one. Florence was great and Kevin really helped me out a lot. We had planned on seeing this beautiful estate with some of the best grounds in all of Italy. The weather was wonderful all morning and then all of a sudden the skies opened up and there was a torrential downpour. No joke. We tried to hide under the roof of the Uffizi for about 20 minutes but then we decided just to make a break for it and run back to Kevin's apartment. Bad idea. We were bombed on by chunks of hail the size of marbles. Here is a little video of the rain and how I looked after, just for funsies. Sorry for the shoddy cameraphone video work. Make sure to check out David's Ass in the background (not the real David's Ass though).

I'm still smiling like a clown though.

Two Years Abroad!

Two years here in Roma! An exasperating, exhausting and frustrating city for me at times but also a city that some days I feel almost at home in. Yeah, the public transport is awful. Yeah, the city lacks a music scene. Yeah, the gypsies are a blight. Yeah, the Italians are impossible at times. But...there are moments, however, sometimes fleeting, that I think that if all of these things were to be corrected, what would be the point of living here. I came here for a challenge and an adventure. I'm certainly getting them now.

It's hard to believe that it's been two whole years. Two years of celebration. Two years without Welch's Grape Juice. Two years of learning from scratch. Two years of travelling. Two years of trying my best. I've been to places that I'd never dreamt of going to. I've made friends from all over the world. I've given everything I had to make this happen.

Two years of constant struggle. If it wasn't one thing, it was a another. If everything was going well, there was always the language problem. If the language problem was becoming less of a barrier, then there was the money problem. If the money problem was ok, then we were apart because of my job at the pub or her job. If we were apart because of our jobs...well you know where that one is going/went anyway. It seems strange that I'm sitting here alone after two years of sharing everything here in Roma and meeting every challenge with the one I loved.

If I may look at the brightside (I think there is one, anyway), I feel as though a millstone has been lifted from my neck. With this newfound lightness, comes the opportunity to do somethings I wouldn't have done before because of OUR plans and what WE wanted. Well, now they are only MY plans and what I want. Talking about what I want is a little frightening but I think I'm starting to come around to the idea with lots of help and support from family and good friends.

I've been feeling somewhat "stuck" in Roma over the last few weeks and I've also felt as though I'm on a bit of a slippery slope in a lot matters. Fortunately, my friend from CWU, Kevin, is studying in Florence for the month and he invited me to stay with him at his apartment in the center of town for the weekend. It was an opportunity I couldn't miss. I mean, I hadn't seen him for two years and now he's only two hours away! Immediately after my lessons on Friday, I caught the first train from Roma to Florence and he was able to meet me at the train station.

Kevin - White Salmon, Washington

It felt great to get out of Roma. I think the pace of my life decreased ten fold as soon as I stepped off the train and that slippery slope evened out a bit. In no particular order, we wandered (read: stumbled) around the city, drank the local chianti, cooked some great food from the local market, ate at a favorite spot of his, listened to his friend play the flute in front of the Uffizi (he's a professional) and basically played tourist for the weekend.

At this point, I think we had been wandering and drinking the local chianti (maybe a bit much?) but we stumbled (not literally) into a piazza that has a famous wild boar statue that you have to rub its snout for good luck. Notice the snout is gold now! That's a lot of snout rubbing! I tried that with Juliet's breast in Verona, a lot of good that did me! So what the heck, Juliet didn't bring me any luck but perhaps the wild boar will.

The next we did some proper tourist things. After two years my tourism skills still could use some obvious improvement. We went to see David by Donatello at the Bargello Museum but unfortunately they were doing restoration to the statue so we missed out on that. Where the hell was the wild boar on that one! They do have a lot of other great sculptures though. This one was one my favorite. I don't even know the name but I find it so triumphant and romantic. Yeah, still a bad tourist.


Warning: Male Frontal Statue Nudity!

Triumph!

He's also crushing what looks to be the dragon/dog looking thing from A Neverending Story under his foot! Badass!

I did finally get to see The David of Michaelangelo after being in Florence twice before. We didn't have to wait too long to get into the museum and to see David (Thanks to The Boar!) David is very impressive in terms of size and beauty and it is well-deserving of its iconic status but I much prefer the Bernini David that we have here in Roma.

We also managed to spend a lot of time doing absolutely nothing. Which is what I was kind of hoping for in the first place. I'm happy that I was finally able to see David but what I really wanted was to spend some time relaxing and I also wanted to get some decent sleep again. Both of which I achieved in Florence. We spent a few hours overlooking the river on Saturday afternoon before Kevin made me dinner. It felt great to have someone make me dinner for a change!

Thanks Kevin!

The weekend came to an end far too quickly and I had to head back to Roma because of that pesky work thing. I really feel that it was what I needed and at just the right moment to keep me from that slippery slope.

Spaghetti al Cacio e Pepe

For 6 people:
Spaghetti - 600 grams
Parmigiano - 100 grams
Extra Virgin Olive Oil - 1 Tablespoon
Salt
Pepper - a lot

Add the spaghetti to salted, boiling water. At this point add the tablespoon of oil. When the pasta is al dente drain the water but not completely. Leave a little water in with the pasta, slowly stir in the parmigiano so it does not clump together. This isn’t a saucy pasta so there shouldn’t be much water left after you’ve mixed in the parmigiano and the pepper. Serve with more grated parmigiano and freshly ground pepper.

Simple but good and most people have these ingredients in their pantry at all times.

Bruschette Semplice

You are all very lucky that you can make your bruschette outside on your Weber grill as the summer evening is cooling off. If I want to make them, I have to turn on the oven to 500 degrees which is absolutely insane considering it has been, on average, 95 degrees here for the last 2 weeks.

What you need:

Hot coals
Day or two old bread, nothing airy, you want thick, sturdy bread
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
A clove of garlic, whole and unpeeled
Any toppings you want

First step is to slice your bread into 1 inch thick pieces. Drizzle one side with olive oil and a tiny pinch of salt. Toss them on the hot, hot grill with the oiled side down. After you get the nice grill marks (a little burn is good too), flip them over, add another small drizzle of oil and grill them for another minute or two. Here is the key, take the unpeeled, clove of garlic and cut one end of it off and then LIGHTLY rub it across the toast, one time! You should immediately get the lovely scent of garlic on the hot bread. If you love garlic and don't mind tasting it for a few days, feel free to get crazy with it. Also, I leave the peel on because I don't like the smell of garlic on my fingers, ma come voui (but how you want)! The last step is to add the toppings, another drizzle of olive oil and a pinch of salt in that order (or you end up with all of the salt on the plate and not the food). Buon appetito!

Greenish-Red tomatoes* with torn basil and olive oil
Sweet Cherry Tomatoes with torn basil and olive oil

You could just as easily add some nice mozzarrella to these and have Bruschette Caprese, another favorite is with arugula and cherry tomatoes. Really, what you pile on top is your business, just mind the simple procedure and you'll be really happy.

*Avoid using really ripe red tomatoes because they end up soaking your bread and you lose the "toastiness" of it. That's why they use the unripe tomatoes here a lot of the time.

The Fourth of July Weekend

Here in Roma, we started celebrating The Fourth of July at midnight on Friday and we didn't stop until Sunday morning. It was fun to see how proud Americans are of their country and even if the rest of the world hates us (more or less true). We still love what our country stands for and one of those things is NOT caring about what the rest of the world thinks of us.

It's also an interesting contrast to be here in Italy where there hasn't been much nationalism at all since the end of WWII. Italians identify first of all with their city, then their region and finally with Italy, as a country. It's strange to think about, but the u.S. has been a unified country longer than Italy has. This accounts for a part of the real bad blood that exists between the north and south here in Italy. While in the American north, we just kind of look down on the south but we certainly don't hate them!

I walked by a street vendor selling American flag bandanas and I couldn't resist. I decided that I had to have one. Of course, when I asked how much for the American flag bandanas he asked me if I liked "Booosh", the standard question received by every American abroad nowadays. I politely responded with a non-answer and went on my merry way. But I didn't want to be the only jack-ass out there wearing one so I bought one for my buddy Giles too. Turns out we weren't the only people out showing their pride. We passed a group of about 60 early-twenties Americans that were all decked out. The guys were draped in the flag and the girls were all wearing the flag as a top. Of course, the America, F**k Yeah! chant started soon after.

I had honestly never felt truly proud to be American when I lived in America but these last two years have helped me realize how great America is, even with all of her faults.

Emily - Somewhereville,uSA, Me - Pirateville, and Jenn (my new roomie) - New York, NY

Giles - Milwaukee, WI

Caroline (a Brit Turncoat!) - London, England and Sarah - Cape Cod, MA

Dave - Glasgow, Scotland

Everybody wants to be American, whether they admit it or not!

Between Love and Hate

I had planned on eating some grilled chicken breast for lunch today but to no avail. The chicken had gone turned on me so I had to throw it out or risk a bout of food poisoning. So I had to settle for my comfort food of choice (pbj) which was fine but not what I had really planned on eating.

That was like the fifth time that's happened not only with chicken but also with a lot of other fruit and veg in the last month. This is something that I never let happen before. So as I was eating my sandwich I started thinking about the problem. Why is it that I keep letting things go bad without noticing? At what point did the chicken turn? Why didn't I notice the smell? Why didn't I cook it sooner? Seems to be a fitting metaphor for my life right now. Hell, throw out the chicken, throw out the marriage.

Yesterday, we signed the divorce papers.

I have to admit that I reacted poorly. Allie responded accordingly to my reaction. We said words to each other that we had never uttered in the last seven years. What I said didn't help me feel better in the least, quite the opposite really. I know why I'm saying these unfounded and mean things to Allie and I wish I wasn't but I can't help myself. No, that's a lie. I could have helped myself, I just want her to hurt as badly as I do. I'm burning that bridge until there is nothing left but ash (side note, it's probably next to impossible to find an actual bridge that will burn nowadays, maybe we should start saying "blow up"). The bridge is blown up. The bridge is burnt. Regardless of choice of prose or construction materials, be it wood, concrete or steel, the bridge is no longer in service.

Exit Scene - Take 1
*Cue the sad music, courtesy of Dashboard Confessional*
And...action!

I watched her pack up the last of her things and leave. She walked out the door to the elevator. Now, in a film or on tv, the elevator would have opened up right away and whisked her out of my life, easy-peasy. But this is an old building with an old elevator in a country that seems at times to be just barely out of or slipping back into third-world status, so it took a few minutes for it to arrive. During this time, I couldn't help but stand at the door and watch her leave me. She asked why I was standing and watching. I replied that I didn't know. And I still don't know. If I were to venture a guess, I would say that I wanted to make sure this was really happening to us.