Lee Geiger

Of course the Italians lost World War II. They had to stop for lunch

Susan Morgan

Orvieto…Val d’Orcia…Chianti…San Gimignano…Lake Como.

Over the course of fourteen seductive days, The Pretty and Blonde and I celebrated thirty years of joyous wedlock by indulging ourselves to an all-you-can-experience buffet of Italian culture and cuisine. An exhilarating concoction of meticulous planning and eager anticipation created a ravenous appetite for a captivating Tuscan adventure, coupled with a sophisticated jaunt through the Italian Alps. By the time we had reached the cruising altitude on our return flight home to San Francisco, we both agreed that whether it was the scenery, the food, the wine or the people, a trip we had looked forward to for our entire lives had exceeded every fantasy we could have imagined. It was, in a word, magical.

Like a heavenly dish of tagliatelle pasta served with a rich ragu Bolognese, we consumed everything Italy placed in front of us. Then we tore apart a proverbial piece of bread to soak up every savory morsel of good fortune remaining on our plate. I promise to provide more details about our trip in future write-ups, but for now I want to provide you with some observations that come with looking at Italy through the eyes of a Geiger. Enjoy.

Hotel bathrooms- Manipulating hand-held showers requires one to have reasonable eye/hand coordination, a physical process that’s deteriorating on me faster than my credit rating. One hotel we stayed at featured a hand-held shower with no shower curtain, requiring me to perform yoga just to get in and out of the bathtub to keep from flooding the bathroom. And don’t even get me started on how to use a bidet. The first time I saw one I thought it was a water fountain.

Driving I- Italy doesn’t have speed limits; just speed suggestions. And don’t worry about that car behind you riding an inch off your bumper. They’re just looking for a spot to pass. They won’t need much room, either. When it comes to squeezing through small spaces, Italian drivers give rats in New York a run for their money.

Driving II- Italian traffic engineers LOVE roundabouts. Too bad they’re as confusing to Americans as Donald Trump’s tax plan.

Trump- Speaking of The Donald, Italians are having a good chuckle at our expense. “I thought only Italians were silly enough to elect a pompous fool to run their country (i.e. Silvio Berlusconi),” said one waiter. “But you’re the United States. How can you let that happen?” Più il vino, per favore. (More wine, please.)

Wine- Speaking of wine, you should have your head examined if you spend more than $20 on a bottle. And don’t worry about the morning after if you drink too much. Unless, of course, your digestivo include six glasses of grappa.

Fashion– Italians like to say they don’t care about how they look, but they do. And they make it look so easy. A sports coat and a simple scarf can go an awfully long way.

Food- IT’S ALL GOOD, and it’s surprisingly inexpensive. Strangely, to me most of the food was the same color. A Tuscan cookbook could be titled “Fifty Shades of Brown.”

Gelato- The Pretty Blonde insisted our trip would go much smoother if we had at least TWO servings of gelato each day. I knew there was a reason why I married her.

The Right Frame of Mind- I left my watch in Moraga, and I removed the CNBC app from my phone. Most Italians don’t care about the S&P 500. Or time, especially when it comes to having wine.

Real Estate- Buying an Italian villa is like buying a boat; your happiest day is when you buy it, and your next happiest day is when you sell it. If you want to live in Italy, learn to say “affitto (rent)” to your agent.

American tourists- They’re easier to spot than 49er fans at a Raiders tailgate. Just look for the guy in white tennis shoes, white socks, khaki cargo pants and a wrinkled t-shirt that proclaims “I (heart) Italy.”

Selfie Sticks- The ultimate symbol of narcissism. If you ever catch me with one, you have my permission to beat me senseless with it.

Ciao for now.