Noto Antica
There are days which will stand out in my life. This was one of them.
“Il bar più a sud d’Europa isole escluse.”
We were barely on the road when we stopped at an abandoned farmhouse. The farm had been made into a museum. Apparently, someone who had found some Roman mosaics and were chipping away pieces destroying them and obscuring the story these treasures told. As I understand it, someone had started farming here when they discovered what was under the ground. It reminds me of something a friend once told me. According to him, there is so very much history in the ground that every construction project uncovers something from the past.
Italia, Ieri, Oggi, Domani.
Today we boarded our flight for our Italian adventure. We battled traffic on the LA freeways, passed through the gauntlet of security, and ourselves into seats that would be restrictive for hobbit. There is not much to tell about my odyssey at this point, so let’s talk about Italy.
A Voice for Columbus
The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones. It is so easy to attack the dead, to misquote, to misrepresent motive, to manipulate the representation of past events.
Arrival
Today, after a very long day of travel, we arrived in Syracuse, or more correctly Sircuasa. I am referring to the original in Sicily and not the one in central New York.
Columbus & The Historians
When I was a kid Columbus Day was a special holiday. OK, it wasn’t Christmas or Easter, but it was better than Arbor Day, with all due respect to that holiday. I didn’t think of it back then, but it was an acknowledgment of the contribution Italians made – and continue to make – to the United States.
The Road to Noto
What a great day!! It is our first day of riding and it has reminded me of why I love these trips so much. We left Syracuse this morning headed south-west toward the town of Noto. It was a short 34 miles, which I guess is a great way to start the trip. We don’t want to attempt anything too intense and the terrain was relatively flat, very little elevation gain. The sky was overcast as we began our travels making for a cool start to the day.
Who is your Favorite Guitarist?
If I were to ask you to name a great guitarist, who would you name? If you are from my generation, you might say Clapton or Hendrix. If you are old school, you might go with B.B. King or Les Paul. If, however, you are really old school, and I am talking 18th century old school, you’re going with Mauro Giuliani – no known relation to that other Giuliani.
An Italian-American Christmas
Several years back, an evangelical Christian co-worker was complaining about the secularization of Christmas. “Jesus is the reason for the season,” he declared, literally raising his arm, pointing to the heavens above. “What does Christmas mean to you? Is it a holiday or an holyday?” he asked, almost daring me to answer incorrectly, or at least what he thought was incorrect.
Love Italian Style
It’s Valentine’s Day!! A day of chocolates, flowers, romantic dinners, and sexy lingerie. It is estimated that the average man will spend $300 to $400 on wooing his true love, or at least his current love. While I don’t want to appear as a Valentine’s Day cynic, I can’t help but feel that all this Valentine’s Day furor is more the result of effective marking than heartfelt expressions of devotion.
La Festa di San Giuseppe
Two days after Saint Patrick’s day, March 19th, after all my Amerighan friends have recovered from drinking green beer while eating corned beef and cabbage, is Saint Joseph’s day or more accurately La Festa di San Giuseppe. Throughout the world, you will find Italians celebrating La Festa di San Giuseppe to honor the patron saint of all father’s, Saint Joseph.
Italians, The First Latins!!
Several years back I was having dinner with a group of people. At one point during the meal, a woman at the table began to rant against Latins. The Latins this. The Latins that. All manner of shortcomings were ascribed to Latins. Clearing my throat, I noted that I was a Latin. “You’re not Latin! You’re Italian,” she snapped.
Are Italian-Americans Italian?
Are Italian-Americans Italian? People keep telling me we aren’t. When I say I am Italian, Italian-Italians, those born in Italy, look at me with suspicion and scoff. American Uber-patriots chide me, telling me that I am American. In their minds, to associate myself the culture of my forbears is close to treason. With so many people telling me that I am not Italian, I cannot help but wonder if Italian-Americans are Italian.
Mythical Italy
Have you ever run into someone you have not seen in decades? I have. Recently, via social media, I made contact with a childhood friend. We had not seen each other since I was 15. He was an old man; what little hair he had was white and his belly hung over his belt. What happened? It was disheartening to later learn that he thought the same of me.
Being Italian American During a Covid Christmas
I am not sure how to start this post, how to do something other than contributing to the happy-happy-joy-joy holiday messages with which we have all been inundated over the past few weeks. However, I do have something to say as I reflect on this time of year and its relation to my cultural heritage, especially in light of the Covid pandemic.
Bicycle Diaries Siciliano
I have some interesting news for my friends, family, and followers, over the next few weeks to promote my award-winning book, Italianità: The Essence of Being Italian and Italian-American, I will be touring Italy. We will begin with a bike tour along the southern coast of Sicily, the home of my maternal ancestors, followed by a visit to the Amalfi coast, and concluding in the Eternal City, Rome.