I have to admire the way the Italians walk. They are not in a rush to reach their
destination, for them the journey is more important and they saunter, taking in
the moment, looking at everything going on around them. They are a big contrast to my neighbors
who rush to the store, rush to the bus stop, rush to work and if they look at
anything their eyes are glued to their iPhones.
I have to admire the
restraint of Italian bar and restaurant keepers who do not ask the morning
pensioners, who gather to exchange gossip and soccer scores and who sit at the
cafes tables, without ordering coffee, to pay up or move on. In my neighborhood if anyone sits at an
outside table they had better order something or the owners will shoo them
quickly away.
I also admire how the
Italians can complicate a simple process.
Take their toaster. It is not the kind of toaster where you lower the bread into
the heating elements, no you have to grasp a wire device to open the metal cage, place
the toast into it, and then physically lower the cage into the toaster. The toaster is then turned on.
When the toast is ready you grasp the cage, lift it out, the metal cage red hot, turn the cage upside down, open it dropping the toast on the table. I am surprised that operators of this complicated devise haven’t been branded many times over.
Take the Italian lampshade. In this case a contraption designed to shade only half of a
light bulb, why that is important escapes me. The design is what I call Italianate – a way to complicate
rather than simplify.
Of course any culture which came up with, frescos by Luca Signorelli, architecture
by Andrea Palladio, music by Verdi, Vivaldi and Puccini, pizza Margherita and
gelato has my vote anytime.
(Illustrations from my travel/sketchbook No. 41).
