Random Musings: Pre-Italy Edition

It's been awhile since I posted my random musings. Here's one for you: Why do women in public bathrooms (don't know if this applies to men) never choose a stall next to one that's occupied if there are others available? And speaking of bathrooms, the only upside to there being fewer women in engineering is that there's never a line for the ladies' room in my building.

I leave on Friday afternoon for a 10-day singing tour with the Strath Haven High School Silvertones (ST). I'm not singing; I'm chaperoning. I wish they'd let me sing. I'm still wondering if I'd make the group.

Yes, I chaperoned two years ago. First, someone has to do it; I'm taking one for the team. Second, my 16-year-old son is fine with me joining him/them. That alone means I have to go. How many teenagers are willing to have their parents go anywhere with them? And it's not just because he considers me a walking ATM. In fact, now that he's a working man I told him he has to provide his own spending money. Of course, this means I won't actually spend any time with him on this trip. But that's okay, too. I'm in it for the tours. As I've gotten older I've developed a strange passion for history. I actually get giddy when I learn something is hundreds or thousands of years old. It's the same reaction most women would have if they were told George Clooney was around the corner.

Did I tell you I've subscribed to National Geographic? I love it. I feel smart reading it. And if I don't feel like reading, I can always look at the pictures. The irony in my subscribing to National Geographic is that my grandfather ordered me subscriptions every year for my birthday when I was a kid and I didn't read a single issue. Threw them all away. Not too many kids are good candidates for that magazine. That's why they now offer the kids' edition. Still, I feel guilty.

Another reason to go to Italy? The wine. Did you know that prior to the previous trip I had never had a whole glass of red wine? And since returning I haven't had any either. There's something about red wine in Italy. It tastes better there. Kind of like mashed potatoes at my mom's house.

I also love Italian meats. This year I won't make the mistake of trying to bring them home in my suitcase. Or, I won't claim them on my official forms at the airport. I'm such a freakin' rule follower. Last time they took all my meat. The only thing I'd brought from Italy for my husband. I cried. Meat's expensive.

To prove to my son that going on this trip is not all about him, I have every intention of chaperoning again in 2017, when he'll be in (yikes!) college. This means I need Cornelia's son Alex, and/or Theresa's son AJ to make the group next year. Not for their own satisfaction, but for my own selfish travel purposes. It would be weird to chaperone if I didn't actually know any of the kids in the group. And I'm fully expecting Cornelia and/or Theresa to accompany me. Girls' week in Italy. Woo hoo!

This year I have a bit of anxiety about the trip for a couple reasons. One, there have been recurrent issues with paying for it. It went something like this:

1. I sent an electronic check through my online bank. 
2. Check was apparently lost in the maze of school district offices.
3. Check was found and sent to ST director.
4. ST director misplaced check. 
5. ST director calls me; I stop check; incur $25 charge from my bank.
6. Write new check; hand delivered to director.
7. Receive text from director weeks later noting that my check did not clear.
8. I go ape shit, insisting that I'm loaded with money; no way check bounced.
9. Turns out mystery person in school district tried to deposit rediscovered original check.
10. It's declined; school district charged fee.
11. New check was cashed, but school district account shows negative balance. 
12. Not my problem.

This might be a sign that I should not go on this trip. If I don't make it home alive, let's just say "I knew it."

Second concern: Roommate situation. For months leading up to the trip it looked like I was going to be the only female chaperone. A status I was quite happy with. I prefer to be the lone woman. It makes me feel powerful. But no, the director had to go and encourage others to join me. I don't really know the other ST moms, but there was only one I really didn't want to come with us. No particular reason other than that she's one of those moms who make us normal moms look bad. In other words, she's super attractive in a rock-n-roll kind of way. Great hair. Cool clothes. Way more hip than yours truly. So hip she probably knows the 2015 word for "hip." Then there's also the fact that her email and blog name are "I am Bossy." Personally, I'm more passive aggressive. 

Did I mention that her blog has tons of readers and gets bunches of comments? If you truly care about me you'll share a comment on this post, just to make me feel better about myself.

A third concern: My flat iron. At the time of the previous trip I had not yet discovered the magic of the flat iron. Of course my hair was short so I didn't need one. Now I need one, but I'm afraid if I use it I'll blow a fuse at the hotel, cutting  power to the whole place. Everything I read says you need a voltage adapter, and even then, hair dryers and the like are risky to use because of their voltage. Do I risk it or accept bad hair for 10 days? Keep in mind that my roommate has great hair. Long, blond, curly. If I come home with a k.d. lang cut, don't be surprised.

Finally, I've decided "Uptown Funk" is this decade's version of "Celebrate Good Times" by Kool & the Gang. I love Uptown Funk, but really hate Celebrate. Maybe I started out loving Celebrate, but they played it to death. Maybe I will one day hate Uptown Funk. 

Priceless Unplanned Moments

I'm not a fly by the seat of my pants kinda girl. While I admire those with a sense of adventure, personally I don't have a taste for "winging it." I greatly prefer having a plan. I think that's part of what made Italy such a great experience for me. The itinerary was set on paper, nearly down to the hour. We knew when we were eating, what time we needed to be on the bus, where we were going, what churches we'd be visiting, and when we could take a nap (a.k.a. free time). We had a 24-7 Italian guide who took care of everything except fluffing our pillows. Agendas were in place, schedules were adhered to, everything ran smoothly. And  naturally, the most special moments were those we hadn't planned for.

Silvertones with Maestro del Coro John Shankweiler

The first of several memorable moments took place after the Silvertones' first concert. We were in the beautiful seaside town of Gallipoli for an evening performance in Sacro Cuore di Gesu, one of the dozen-plus Baroque style churches we were to visit on this trip. The singing was lovely and audience appreciative. In fact, oddly appreciative. A few older women gave us standing ovations, repeatedly. A little over the top, I thought. Well, it turns out that unbeknownst to us, the Silvertones were performing a tribute concert of sorts. It seems a few years back, a young man named Andrea heard the Silvertones perform when they were in that same part of Italy. A young composer and musician himself, he embraced the group and was involved in arranging one of their performances during that visit. Sadly, Andrea died from hepatitis B at age 32, just a year before the Silvertones returned to the Puglia region for this tour. When his family learned the group would be performing, they invited friends and extended family and printed a special tribute book. After the concert and the repeat standing ovations, his mother presented Silvertones' director John Shankweiler with a piece of art, and the family surprised the kids with a pizza party (which was being followed by a pre-planned 7-course meal). The highlight of the evening, however, was when friends of Andrea's sang one of his songs for us. That magical moment moved me to tears, and when I looked across the room at my son, I saw his eyes were also welling up. Just one of the many reasons why I love that kid.

I'm happy to say that none of the other special, unplanned moments of our trip had that kind of sad note to them. However, another did involve singing by someone other than -- or I should say in addition to -- us. After a performance in a church in Martina Franca (I think it was the one that was cold enough that we could see our breath), a local gospel group suggested we get together to perform for one another. The next evening after dinner, the Wake Up Gospel project paid a visit to our hotel where the five of them blew us away with their performances of classic American gospel music. I thought the Silvertones were good, but these folks were amazing. Of course, to be fair, they'd been together for seven years while our group changes every nine months.

I was being sarcastic when I said it was impressive.

Number three on the list of pleasant surprises was an unexpected invitation into a woman's home while we were strolling the streets of one of the historic town centers. As we meandered through the narrow alleys admiring the architecture, an Italian woman, probably in her 50s, invited us into her home to see what these residences looked like inside. Yes, 40+ Americans made their way up her glorious marble staircase and found ourselves in the quintessential Italian lady's home. An older woman lived there with her three adult daughters, surrounded by furnishing and decor that hadn't been touched in 30+ years. Naturally there wasn't a speck of

Valentino. Word of lung cancer
still has not reached Italy

dust among the mismatched photographs, trinkets and tableware, but all I could think of was how amazing that space, with it's 12 foot ceilings and marble columns, could have looked with some updating. The Silvertones thanked the women for the impromptu visit by gathering around her dining room table to sing for them. That performance gave me an opportunity to admire the artwork, including the impressive painting above of a pope or bishop or some other Catholic holy guy. The most fascinating tidbit of info we learned during that visit was that the home previously belonged to Rudolph Valentino.

Finally, the most lighthearted unexpected moment of our tour came in Matera, the last "big" city we visited. As we walked along the city wall, high above a valley below, we witnessed wildlife of some sort racing along the ravine. That wildlife? Wild boars. Trailing a short distance behind them? Baby boars struggling to keep up. The country has no deer, squirrels, rabbits, etc., but wild boar? Absolutely.

Hog heaven

Prior to this trip I did very little traveling outside the U.S. (and not that much inside the U.S. either). I'd only been to Yorkshire, England 15 years ago, with a couple of trips to Mexico in between. Visiting Italy awakened in me a real desire to travel, to see more of this amazingly beautiful world we live in. If I can get the kids to go to Villanova, I will happily spend their college savings (and perhaps their inheritance) exploring places I've only seen in pictures. And I'll be sure to leave time in my well thought out itineraries for those memorable unplanned moments.

Random Musings: Italian Edition

I have returned from the Silvertones' singing tour of the southeastern region (Puglia) of Italy. It was an amazing experience and worth every penny of my children's college education money. Just seeing Ian's tremendous smile when singing or hanging with his friends was incredibly special. I told him I must go on the next tour in two years. And maybe I'll continue to go after he graduates. He told me the kids liked me best out of all the chaperones, but lest I think too highly of myself he added, "That really isn't saying much when you consider the competition."

As I prepare to return to the daily grind, time and my jet lagged brain do not permit a full post reflecting on the experience at this point.  But because I know you've missed me terribly (and Rob disappointed you by not taking advantage of a great opportunity to get even with me for a three years worth of somewhat questionable posts), I thought I'd quickly share:

20 Things I Learned in Italy

A frogfish face only a mother could love.

1. I do, in fact, like red wine!
2. I do not, however, like octopus, or squid, or veal, or sushi, or vegetables...(most of the adventurous multi-course meals were wasted on me; I think Ian actually ate more than I did).
3. Frogfish does not taste as bad as it looks.
4. America's bread, cheese, salami/prosciutto and pizza pale in comparison to Italy's. Just don't try to bring home the meat. Damn those customs agents! Damn me for including the salami on the declaration form! 
5. Italian men are instantly recognizable and live up to their reputation as Lotharios. Our girls were frequent objects of "affection."
6. Older Italian women look like my mother-in-law and her sisters. 
7. Italians, at least in the region we were in, don't often use garlic, and the country as a whole is not

   

   
   

   particularly wild about chicken.
8. Or, hair conditioner.
9. Hotels don't feel adequate hair dryers are important, but they're big on heated towel racks and bidets.
10. As a tourist, siesta time sucks. This is why I didn't buy you anything. All the stores were closed when I wanted to shop.
11. Buildings in Italy are considered modern if they were built after the 17th century. 
12. Italians don't dress up for church, even on Easter Sunday. It's perfectly okay to wear ripped jeans and a sweatshirt, as long as you don't expose your shoulders, elbows or knees.
13. The long-legged blondes in our group turned a lot of heads in Italy. Same as they do in America.
14. Italians sell pizza topped with hot dogs and French fries. 
15. In the piazzas, throngs of people stroll through the streets (and I do mean "stroll." No one ever seems to be in a hurry over there. Maddening for speed walkers like me). Vehicles also drive on these streets, causing us to frequently shout "CAR" during our walking tours.  
16. There's a trend toward rosé wines at the vineyards in Italy. Rob is terribly disappointed to hear this.
17. Depeche Mode sounds awesome when drinking tea in a bar (what we would call a cafe or coffee bar) next to a 15th century church in Martina Franca.
18. The window balconies you see on castles and fancy homes were shaped outward to fit women's big
    
    dresses back in the day.
19. There are more than 50 million olive trees in the Puglia region.
20. The best moments in life are generally those you didn't plan for. 

And those special unplanned moments are what I'll share in my next post. Until then, arrivederci!