"Viva Italia!" - Piazzas and New Friends

"After a day's walk everything has twice its usual value."  (George Macauley Trevelyan)


Our Walks In Rome
Walking, walking, walking... Deborah and I were determined to walk as much as we could while on our trip.  Walk to explore - walk for the exercise - walk to be by ourselves - walk to simply experience the Italian people and culture.  Luckily, our hotel in Rome put us in a perfect spot to do that each day.  Within a 30 minute radius, we could hike to many beautiful piazzas and "touristy" sites, and dozens of restaurants, gelateri (an Italian word for "ice cream paradise"!), and shopping, shopping, shopping!  And so we did.


What were some of our most favorite walks and destinations?  Funny how when I think back on these, they were more enjoyable to me than all the Roman ruins and Papal splendors that we would see later!


The Piazza del Popolo
We loved walking to this giant public square, just across the Tiber River, 20 minutes from our hotel.  We first walked to it on Saturday afternoon.  It was vast and beautiful:  Rome's tallest obelisk in the center; surrounded by churches; filled with tourists taking pictures, and enterprising vendors "giving away" roses to "the pretty lady" (then peskily following us around until I gave them a euro and shooed them away!).  Three avenues radiated out from the square:  one leading to the famous Spanish Steps, and one, the Via del Corso, leading into one of Rome's most fashionable shopping districts.  The streets were bustling and crowded; the sidewalks narrow.  Our heads were constantly swiveling as we window-shopped and ducked in and out of the crowds.  People, people everywhere! 

Two pictures:  The Spanish Steps and Strolling down the Via del Corso

But the best memory I have of our walks here was the one we took Sunday morning.  It was quiet when we entered the Piazza del Popolo - the sun was gently shining on us and a troop of joggers circling through the square.  And then the church bells began to ring.  The beauty of the morning and of the chimes brought tears to Deborah's eyes, and made me smile.  "Bellisimo"!

Piazza Navona
The Piazza Navona was another memorable destination for our walks in Rome. Piazza Navona was once the site of a Roman stadium, built for games and contests - but now is the home of three beautiful Baroque fountains, sidewalk cafes, and a bustling vendors' market.  It was here at "Moretti's Bar" that I found my first friendly Italian waiter, who patiently allowed me to practice some mangled Italian while ordering - and it was here that we ate our first heavenly piece of pizza, and THE BEST chocolate gelato in the world!


We will also always remember the Piazza Navona because it was here that we bought some art to bring back home with us - what better way to remember Italy!  The square was full of artists, all offering water colors, charcoal drawings, oil paintings, and "instant portraits".  Deborah spotted a beautiful oil painting of flowers in a window box in the Piazza (kind of like this photo)

And after some haggling and bargaining with Piero Pugnalini (the earnest artist), we bought it (Prices were often "soft" when shopping in Italian squares - especially when the shopper was a bright, beautiful blonde Italian herself!)

I also convinced Deborah to sit for an "instant portrait".  She was at first reluctant, but then agreed to sit for the grizzled artist.  I strolled away and let him work quietly, sketching away with his charcoal, as he gazed at my wife.  When I returned and peeked over his shoulder, what he had drawn brought tears to my eyes.  Such a regal, proud, and beautiful image - a true Italian princess!  I snapped a picture of him finishing.

I know I will treasure this portrait, and this moment. :-)

Finding Some New Friends

Unlike the tour I went on 7 years ago to France, there never was a formal "meet and greet" introduction of all the tour members to each other (too bad!).  Our group was large (40 people); almost everyone was from the East coast, and Italian in descent (with last names like "Crusco", "Delia Fratto", "Ciliberti", "Materasso", and "D'Amico"!  I was glad to be traveling with a "DeMattia", so this German could blend in a little!).  So, when we all sat down for our first formal dinner together, I was curious (kind of like the first day of school):  Who would we meet?  Would they be "nice"?  Would we "get along" and "have fun"?  There were three empty seats at our table, and by chance, a group of three sat down across from Deborah and I.  Lo, and behold, it was three "westerners" (Texans):  Mary McGrew Cunningham, her 85 year old father Lloyd, and her best friend, Diana Baker Freeman.  What an amazing seating "assignment", divinely provided!  Mary, Lloyd, and Diana and us had a wonderful evening, laughing and getting to know each other!  Mary and Deborah acted like they had known each other all their lives; Lloyd with his patience, quiet stoicism, but surprising wit, always made me smile; and Diana, full of life and stories and big laughs - all made for the perfect dinner partners and travel companions.  We also loved meeting Angela Delia Fratto, who joined us the next night, and added even more laughter and fun to our merry table. We would enjoy their company every night, and are happy to continue to be in touch with them as new friends!

Our fun dinner table group (Angela, Lloyd, Mary, Diana, Deborah, and me)

Time to end this chapter.  I found this quote from a famous Italian actress that made me smile.

"Everything you see (about me) I owe to spaghetti." (Sophia Loren)

Italian food definitely made me "more beautiful" too :-)... Ciao!

"Viva Italia!" - Our Summer Trip to the Land of Sun, Style (and gelato!)

"You may have the universe if I may have Italy." (Giuseppe Verdi)

Though summer seems like it should be a time filled with lazy lounging, sunny siestas, berries and BBQs, and fooling around in flip flops and shorts, my summers always seem to also include at least one grand adventure.  And this year the adventure was unforgettable.  Deborah and I had the chance to travel to Italy - the homeland of her ancestors (thanks to her very, very generous Dad!).  We recently returned from our wonderful 10 day trip, and there were so many unforgettable experiences and memories that we shared that I just had to record them here!  It'll probably take me a few entries to cover all of them, so stay tuned! :-)

"Buon Viaggio! - Our Trip Begins


"I feel about airplanes the way I feel about diets. It seems to me that they are wonderful things for other people to go on."  (Jean Kerr)


It's hard to describe how excited we both were about taking this trip.  Though I have been overseas a number of times, it had been 7 years since I had last gone to Europe.  And this was Deborah's first trip abroad.  Work and school had kept us both so busy that we really hadn't seriously thought about the trip until the final week before we left.  Then it hit us - "OMG!  We're going to ITALY in 4 days!" - which triggered a madcap, anxious week of packing, repacking, and scurrying to get the house, our pets, and everything else ready before we left.  Deborah read list after list of "What to Wear in Italy (if you don't want to look like a tourist!)", and counseled me accordingly:  no shorts, no sneakers, no baseball hats; For her: lots of dresses, no bare shoulders in churches, etc.  I tried to act "non-chalant" and "know-it-all" (being the "world traveler" that I was), but I worried a little too - especially about "packing light" - since we wanted to carry on all of our bags - not wanting to trust them being lost in the "catacombs" of some airline.


And so our trip began.  It began - as do all trips to Europe from the West coast - VERY EARLY!  Up at 3 am on Friday July 1st - no time for coffee - just grab our bags and head to the airport for our transcontinental, then trans-Atlantic flights:  Portland to New York to Rome.  I remember the first time I flew some 20 years ago, and how I thought it was such an adventure.  Now, flying seems to have become something to be endured:  waiting in long lines, take your shoes off, put your shoes on, show your passport, your boarding pass, "Did you pack your own luggage?  Has it ever left your sight?", ad nauseum.  All for the "privilege" of being crammed into a metal tube with 200 other anxious people for hours and hours - not to mention the "fun" of eating mediocre meals, "crocodile-arms" style and barely being able to cat nap... Ah well, the price to be paid for an adventure!


Our flights that day were thankfully uneventful.  The highlight (at least for Deborah) was boarding the Alitalia flight in New York and being greeted by the pilots.  It would be the first (and not the last time!) I heard my beautiful wife say, "Oh my God!  I LOVE Italian men!" (thankfully she married a kinda tall, not so dark, but romantic, German/Finn!).  On Friday morning, we were in the "City of Roses" - on Saturday morning, we landed in "The Eternal City", Rome.


Culture shock slowly seeped in as we walked through Rome's airport.  We were definitely "no longer in Kansas anymore".  We were hungry, thirsty, and we had two hours to kill before our shuttle from Perillo Tours would be there to take us to our hotel.  So, dragging our bags, we schlepped around the airport to find an ATM machine to get Euros, and then to find a seat somewhere, anywhere (a recurring theme later in our trip!) and order something to eat.  We finally found a deli-style cafeteria, and a friendly waiter, who spoke English, and had our first meal in Italy:  a prosciutto panini, Caprese salad, Coke (for Deborah) and uno vino bianco for me.  Mange!  As we ate, we began to see other Perillo tour groups starting to show up ("Perillo-istas" we would call them), so we knew we were in the right place.  But we waited, and we waited.  Periodically, I would get up and walk around looking for our shuttle - this is what I would see.

Dozens of shuttle drivers, all holding signs, waiting for groups and individuals - a whole "cottage industry" connected to tourism in Italy.  


Finally, our tour guide appeared.  His name was Raffaele D'Arino:  a middle-aged Italian, dressed stylishly with sunglasses on top of his head, who with a musical voice, summoned us all and led us to our waiting bus.  "Allora", he said, "Follow me.  We will walk slowly, slowly to the bus.  This way, follow my newspaper", which he held high over his head as we walked.  And so the thirty of us, tired and benumbed travelers straggled along behind him, like a group of school children, eager to find our new home in Rome.

We arrived at our hotel in central Rome, the Hotel Cicerone.  It was a beautiful hotel, 1/2 way in between the Vatican City and ancient Rome - perfectly situated.  Raffaele encouraged us to take a little walk around Rome before we collapsed into our beds for a nap, and gave us directions for a nice walk to see our first sights in Italy:  the Piazza del Popolo and the Spanish Steps.  After unpacking, Deborah and I groggily, but eagerly set off on our first hike.

Deborah and the Tiber River

Our adventure had begun!

(and so had our love affair with this beautiful city!)

The story will continue... come back for Chapter Two!

Entering the Piazza del Popolo

Tramping the Last Mile

"All right endeavor calls for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hour's toil....This spirit is the one...we must possess if we are to face the future as finishers." (Henry David Thoreau)

Today's the last day of the school year for me.  Students have been gone for almost a week; grades done, yearbooks signed, room cleaned and organized.  Another year done - a 27th chapter added to this book called "My Career".  But unlike some years, when I can't wait to race away from school and escape into summer, today I find myself lingering, and wanting to reflect.

This year has been both rewarding, as well as challenging.  Funny how it seems that the most valuable experiences we go through in life are often like this.  They demand more of us than we ever think we can give.  But if we stay, if we perservere, we are usually rewarded with gifts we couldn't have received any other way.  This past school year (and trying to keep up with my wife while she runs!) has reminded me of this "Pearl".

What were some of the challenges of this past year?

• Moving into a new building.  Having to teach "old school" with an overhead projector because my high-tech computer and Activeboard weren't ready to go for the first two weeks of school. New computer programs to figure out.  New building layout to learn (and to hike!)
• A new schedule (our 4th in 6 years!) - I never did know for sure what bells ringing when meant what!
• Tons of new expectations.  Essays I was required to assign as part of a school wide "Literacy" program; state reading work samples to do; department "curriculum maps" to haggle over and finesse (but will probably never be used by any classroom teacher).  So much time spent doing things other than teaching Economics. The Kronus Krisis! (teachers should not - and will not - "punch in"!)
• And a constant drumbeat behind all of this...looming budget cuts (once again) promising a future of more work, more students, fewer resources, fewer teachers, and less pay... A sad and grim reality for teachers all across this nation.

But despite all of those challenges, and many more, it is the rewards of this year that I remember now.

• The fun I had with my A.P. Economics class this year.  They were a group of mostly squirrely Juniors (and squirrely Seniors!).  During the year they sometimes exasperated me.  But we grew together as we worked together.  I was flattered when some of them told me I was the best A.P. teacher they had had that year.  I also feel good about how I'm growing as an A.P. teacher - I did many new things this year and am excited about doing more next year.  I love finding new ways to teach stuff!
• How satisfied I felt in helping some of my most difficult Seniors finish the year strongly and graduate.  Talk about "Tramping the last mile"!  I may not have planned on working that hard to help them, but the smiles on their faces when they shook my hand on Graduation night made it all worthwhile.
• The fun I had, and the "15 minutes of fame" I received (that stretched a whole lot longer than that!) for my Justin Bieber impersonation in front of a class last December.   Who woulda thunk that a strait-laced, up-tight, "Boy Scout" of an Economics teacher would "bust a move" and shimmy and shake like I did!  Just cracks me up to remember it and wonder, "Was that really me?"... Yes, it was!

And most of all, I enjoyed the rewards of working with my fellow teachers:  people who year after year strive for excellence, and try to teach others to do the same; people who may grumble and complain, but rarely turn cynical and cold; people who have been both mentors and colleagues.  Some of this year's retirees - Bill Rowan, Mary Boyarsky, and Joan Edwards - have been friends for a long time, and have taught me valuable lessons through the examples of their work.  I will miss them.

The book called "My Career" still has at least one more chapter to be written; a little further to go before the last mile has been tramped. 

"Life is my college.  May I graduate well, and earn some honors along the way." (Louisa May Alcott)

But summer calls and I'm ready to relax.  Putter in my yard, go gallivanting on some adventures, big and small, and pamper my beautiful wife just enough to make her smile (but not so much that she tells me to "Scram!").  And in a couple of months, return refreshed and renewed - ready to begin the race again.

School's out.  But here's to the learning, and the growing, continuing.

As Time Goes By

"Everyone is the age of their heart."  (Guatemalan Proverb)


Time's been on my mind lately.  Ironically, I found this excerpt in a Time magazine article from 1999 that fueled my interest even more.


"Sometimes it flies, sometimes it crawls, but it always passes inexorably. We mark it, save it, waste it, bide it, race against it. We measure it incessantly, with a passion for precision that borders on the obsessive."



Time is always passing - even though I don't often notice it.


April is often a slow month in a school year:  long and full, no "Spring breaks" or 3 day weekends to interrupt the march of workdays.  The divine vision of "the last day of school" and summer vacation is still a distant mirage.  The weather is maddeningly unpredictable:  sunny and blue skies one day (or even one hour!), gray, wet, and blustery the next day (or hour!).


So, sometimes April just seems to crawl along.  But in the last week or so, it's begun to fly.  My birthday is fast approaching (it's this Friday), and I've caught myself thinking about the fact that I'll be well over a half century old.  I've also been thinking about the fact that retirement for me from teaching is not so far, far away anymore.  


Holy cow!  That just doesn't seem real.  I don't think any of us ever really realize when we've "officially gotten old".  You could tell me that I've gotten "wiser", or "more experienced", or "a little grayer", but older?  Nah!  Aren't I the same old Jon that I've always been?  Isn't that the same old Jon looking back at me when I look into the mirror?

I still like to putter around in the yard.  I 'm still kind of a shy guy when you first meet me - but definitely a "ham" once I loosen up a bit.  I still have about the same amount of hair as I did in this picture from 50 years ago. (But I don't always tuck my shirts in anymore - thanks to fashion tips from my wife!).  

But the truth is I've changed a lot.  I'm not so innocent as I once was.  I know a little better what's really important to me - what my genuine passions are in life.  I'm more honest with myself about what my strengths, and my weaknesses, are.  I've learned that letting go of something is actually the first step to being given something greater.

Time has changed me.  Love has changed me.  I am a richer man because of all that time and love have brought me:  a beautiful wife and partner to share life with; a career that has allowed me to touch the lives of thousands; a comfortable home; a life filled with meaning and purpose.

I guess I'm just simply grateful for it all - grateful to God for bringing me all that he has over the last half century.

I pray my heart will always stay young.

"A person is always startled when he hears himself seriously called an old man for the first time." (Oliver W. Holmes, Sr.)

And when someone calls me an "old man" for the first time, I'll remember to smile!

Three Powerful Words (and a Tidbit too!)

 "We proceeded on." (Captain William Clark)

Meriwether Lewis and William Clark are two of my most favorite heroes in American history. I have always remembered Clark's phrase above; written at the end of many of his journal entries.  No matter what his fears or the challenges he faced, he often closed by simply saying, "We proceeded on".  In those three words, can be found a great deal of hope and strength - all in remembering to do just that.  "To proceed on" whenever I feel anxious or fearful, stressed or disappointed, alone or lost.

Here's a tidbit I wrote once about these two men and their expedition.

One of the greatest adventures in American history was the 1804-06 expedition of Lewis and Clark to explore and map the American West.  These two men and their Corps of Discovery are recognized as national heroes today for their courage in travelling across 1000's of miles of uncharted wilderness and back.  How many members of the Corps of Discovery died during this journey?  What happened to Lewis and Clark at the end of this journey?

Answer:  Meriwether Lewis and William Clark and the 31 other members of the Corps of Discovery traveled for over two years through the American West; navigating the Missouri and Columbia Rivers; crossing the Great Plains, meeting Indian tribes for the 1st time; suffered through bitter winters there (-45 degrees!) and a dismal, wet winter on the Oregon coast.  But due to Lewis and Clark's leadership and planning, and the discipline of the men they brought along, only 1 man died during the trip (Pretty remarkable!).  Sergeant Charles Floyd died on August 20, 1804, just two months into the trip, from a ruptured appendix.  The rest of the men stayed relatively healthy (venereal disease was the most common affliction!... usually treated with mega-doses of mercury!).  Lewis suffered the most serious injury of the trip.  In August 1806, while nearing the end of their return trip home, Lewis was shot in the buttocks by one of his own men (Pierre Cruzatte) while out deer hunting!  Lewis spent the last month of the return trip to St. Louis lying on his stomach in the bottom of a canoe; the Corps returned home on September 20, 1806.  The men were greeted as long-lost national heroes, but the fame proved fleeting.  In March 1807, Meriwether Lewis was named Governor of Upper Louisiana, the territory he explored.  But he proved to be an uninterested Administrator.  He also became an alcoholic, increasingly depressed with his life.  On the night of October 10, 1809, Lewis committed suicide, alone and penniless, in a Tennessee roadside inn.  The journals he so diligently kept during his trip were by his side, unedited and unpublished.  William Clark enjoyed a more positive life after the journey.  He enjoyed a happy marriage and was elected Governor of Missouri in 1813.  After Lewis' death, he worked to get his friend's Journals published - they finally were 30 years later.  He continued to work to map the West until his death on September 1, 1838.

Today's Tidbit - The Legend of Face Rock

This is a tidbit I wrote about one of my favorite sights on the Oregon coast.  The sunshine and blue sky today made me remember it, and how much I love the coast!

A striking natural rock formation known as "Face Rock" lies off the Oregon coast near the small town of Bandon.  The largest rock appears to be a human face, gazing up into the sky.  What is the legend/history behind this unique rock?

 Answer:  The origins of the name "Face Rock" come from an old Pacific Northwest Coast Indian legend. The tribes living in the Bandon area were known as either the Coosans or the Athapaskans.  Here is the legend. 

Many, many years ago, Chief Necomah invited Indians far and near to come to the coast and join him in trade and a great feast.  Chief Siskiyou from the far mountains came, bringing along his beautiful daughter, Princess Ewauna.  The feast was truly splendid: the people roasted bear, salmon, elk; huge quantities of clams, mussels were steamed;  honey and huckleberries were the dessert.  

But Necomah warned his visitors from faraway to stay away from the ocean.  An evil spirit, Seatka, lived in the sea, and might cause trouble for the people and their guests. So Necomah placed armed warriors on guard over the high bluffs above the beach, and discouraged the people from going into the water. But Princess Ewauna was enchanted by the sea, never having seen it before.  

One night, while the people were sleeping, Ewauna slipped out of camp and went down to the water, carrying her cat and kittens in a basket and followed by her faithful dog, Komax.  The moon was full and the water glistened in the light.  Ewauna was not afraid of Seatka and began to swim, going farther and farther from shore.  Seatka saw the beautiful princess and rose up to capture her.  

Komax barked a warning - but it was too late. Seatka tried to force Ewauna to look into his eyes, for if she did she would fall under his spell and be his forever.  But she refused to look – staring only at the great, round moon above.  Komax swam bravely out to help his mistress, biting the hand of Seatka.  Enraged, Seatka swung his mighty arm, knocking the dog back to the beach.  He then flung Ewauna's basket of kittens out into the dark waters.  But still she would not look at him.  

The next morning, Chief Siskiyou saw his daughter was missing and sounded the alarm.  The people rushed to the ocean shore.  There they saw the lovely face of Princess Ewauna gazing up to the sky.  On the beach sat Komax, sadly howling at his mistress.  Ewauna's basket, cat, and kittens floated in front of her.  But alas, the evil Seatka had turned them all to stone – his revenge for Ewauna's refusal to love him.  Chief Siskiyou was heart-broken.  He left and never returned.

You can still see Princess Ewauna, Komax, et. al., at the "Face Rock" Viewpoint off Beach Loop Drive in Bandon, Oregon. (it's worth the trip!)

Remembering To Open My Eyes

"A table, a chair, a bowl of fruit, and a violin; what else does a man need to be happy?" (Albert Einstein)

Here I sit on an April Sunday afternoon:  comfy at my desk; enjoying the soft breeze coming in through my window and all the beauty that spring brings along.  When Deborah and I came back from class today, we took Izzy for a long walk around our neighborhood - up into the hills where the "rich people live".  The sun was warm and bright (though it's spring "playmate" is usually a mischievous little breeze that likes to hide in the shadows, and then jump out and pinch my cheeks just when I'm thinking it's warm!).  Izzy loves these walks!  She is the picture of "happiness" - kind of like below!

Though this picture isn't of Izzy (she's a little chihuahua, who runs too fast for me to take a snapshot of!), it captures perfectly the complete joy and sense of happiness she seems to have whenever we go for a walk.  Always something new to see, to do, to sniff, never in a hurry to get back home - looking over her shoulder at Deborah and I as if to say, "Come on!  This is so cool!", while flashing a doggy grin.

And this afternoon, I feel just as happy, so that's what I thought I'd write about.  I wrote 3 months ago about "What Made Me Happy", so I thought I'd return to that topic and see what was new that I could "dig up".  What makes me happy today?

• Seeing the first brave red tulip pop up underneath my office window makes me happy.  I love its courage (the mornings are still a bit frosty!), and its willingness to be a "pioneer posey".
• Just spotted some new "hired help"!  Two scrub blue jays, my new gardeners, are hopping around our front yard, picking and pecking, doing some spring cleaning.  They make me smile as they hop around the yard: one doing most of the work, the other "supervising" from the top of the crabapple tree.  Oops!  One of the jays just dove into the birdbath for a drink and a dip - must be "Quitting Time!"  Funny!
• The smell of freshly mown grass.  Why do I enjoy that so?  What memories does it evoke?  Boyhood chores from a time past?  Or perhaps something more primal?  Proof that I've "carved my home out of the wilderness" like a settler of old?  I don't know.  But I do know that if a color could smell, "green" would smell like my yard after I've mowed it, and I love to breathe it in.
• Our beautiful home makes me happy.  We've worked hard for the last month, cleaning, painting, organizing, and re-doing.  Soft new carpet in the front room that begs for bare feet to snuggle into it; new counter tops and sink in the kitchen, a shiny new stove on its way.  But what makes me smile is not the objects, but the love that they represent.  Love born of shared efforts and shared joys.  Our home is beautiful to me because it is filled with love.
• Hearing my wife laugh!  A couple of days ago a friend of hers sent her a link to this video, called "Back To Work after 30 Years" (click on the link below).  Deborah's laugh is like a bell, infectious and full.  It always makes me happy to hear her happiness, spilling out of her!

Back To Work After 30 years

These things, and so much more, are the music that make my soul smile and sing this afternoon.  It's good to remember these things, and to be grateful for them.  I know that Spring will also bring its clouds and showers; its muddy puddles and chill winds.  But that's all part of Life's great cycles.

I loved something that Guy said in class today.

"Love is always changing its form.  It's always there.  When you think it's gone, it's still there.  You just don't have the eyes to see it".

I want to keep remembering to keep my eyes open.  After all, what else does a man need in order to be happy?