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Billy the kid
Jan. 12th, 2006 | 08:25 am
Billy's back in town, Gil beans, beano, bean cake, monkey..
After kissing hugging and sniffing one another in our mother and child reunion- and after her jet lag post airflight nap I asked if she was hungry.
Yes. What would she like? Pasta. She was tired of Mexican because she'd eaten it every day in CO. Her stepmother was indulging a new gastronomic passion. Burro parmigiano is Gil's comfort food, my little Romanina...
Rosalyn, aka Nevicatosotto is back outtatown, back to bloody snowy cold Cambridge MA. It was way fun to see him again and we had a couple of great sunny Roman days walking all about and learning that we could visit rooftop museum cafes without having to pay admission to the museums themselves..you know, 'when in Rome...' and in fact, while tourists were trying to decipher the labels on sculptures and painting, the decked out Italians were admission free winter roof sunbathing with espressos in hand. Didn't stop Ros from feeling a touch of Stendhal Syndrome though-must of been the city sea view of domes. Or the ancient ruins and foundations with medieval rebuilds next to fascist architecture near Teatro Marcello we explored. Or the fact that he'd let his soul breath in the Alps the day before. I'm going to make sure that GB always has plenty of peanut m&ms in his pockets when he tours Rome, because he's got Stendhal syndrome potential.
I hope you're asking at this point, what IS Stendhal syndrome?
It's an affliction that strikes mostly innocent Americans when they travel to Older European cities that have lots of art and viewable history. They become overwhelmed and begin to faint. To rehabilitate these poor souls they sit them in front of Tv sets with reruns of Starsky and Hutch and feed them junkfood from KFC. No joke.
Touring Porta Portese market on sunny Sundays DOES NOT CURE IT, and may make it worse. AMAZING the sheer quantity and variety of junk Romans can pile onto a 3 mile stretch one morning a week, amazing too, the VOLUME with which they shout and advertise their wares.
The prez of my neighborhood assoc. in ABQ has lost brownie points for not responding to my email. I'll write him again and ask him what were the results from the fate determining city meeting on Werner Gilchrist yesterday.
Good music is what Rome lacks, so I'm back to Ms. Gera now...toodle-oo
After kissing hugging and sniffing one another in our mother and child reunion- and after her jet lag post airflight nap I asked if she was hungry.
Yes. What would she like? Pasta. She was tired of Mexican because she'd eaten it every day in CO. Her stepmother was indulging a new gastronomic passion. Burro parmigiano is Gil's comfort food, my little Romanina...
Rosalyn, aka Nevicatosotto is back outtatown, back to bloody snowy cold Cambridge MA. It was way fun to see him again and we had a couple of great sunny Roman days walking all about and learning that we could visit rooftop museum cafes without having to pay admission to the museums themselves..you know, 'when in Rome...' and in fact, while tourists were trying to decipher the labels on sculptures and painting, the decked out Italians were admission free winter roof sunbathing with espressos in hand. Didn't stop Ros from feeling a touch of Stendhal Syndrome though-must of been the city sea view of domes. Or the ancient ruins and foundations with medieval rebuilds next to fascist architecture near Teatro Marcello we explored. Or the fact that he'd let his soul breath in the Alps the day before. I'm going to make sure that GB always has plenty of peanut m&ms in his pockets when he tours Rome, because he's got Stendhal syndrome potential.
I hope you're asking at this point, what IS Stendhal syndrome?
It's an affliction that strikes mostly innocent Americans when they travel to Older European cities that have lots of art and viewable history. They become overwhelmed and begin to faint. To rehabilitate these poor souls they sit them in front of Tv sets with reruns of Starsky and Hutch and feed them junkfood from KFC. No joke.
Touring Porta Portese market on sunny Sundays DOES NOT CURE IT, and may make it worse. AMAZING the sheer quantity and variety of junk Romans can pile onto a 3 mile stretch one morning a week, amazing too, the VOLUME with which they shout and advertise their wares.
The prez of my neighborhood assoc. in ABQ has lost brownie points for not responding to my email. I'll write him again and ask him what were the results from the fate determining city meeting on Werner Gilchrist yesterday.
Good music is what Rome lacks, so I'm back to Ms. Gera now...toodle-oo