Highlights, Lowlights
Notes from sundry places
For about a month, I wrote an Italian journal, ending in Sicily. I published many photos, of Sicily and other places. But not one quite like this, from a reader:
The reader in question is Tom Jones, a former astronaut. He was on four Space Shuttle flights, including a 2001 flight on Atlantis. During that flight, the above photo was taken.
What are we lookin’ at? Sicily is on top. You can see Mount Etna, poking through the clouds. The sun glints on the Strait of Messina. On the other side of the strait—below Sicily—is the “toe of the boot” (the boot that is the Italian peninsula).
Now, that’s a perspective. Thank you, Tom Jones.
***
In Part XI of my journal, I wrote, “Have you ever seen a waterfall in the middle of town? I have not—until now.” I then showed a picture of Isola del Liri, a town in the Lazio region.
A reader says, in essence, “Whaddaya mean you had never seen one?” And he is right. He reminded me of the waterfall in his hometown, Rochester, N.Y. That would be High Falls, also called “Upper Falls.”
Our reader also reminded me of a place in South Dakota—Sioux Falls. Right!
Here is another line from my Part XI: “In the area is a barbershop with an English name: ‘The Men’s Room.’ Um, I would have advised something else …”
Well, let’s hear again from that same reader: “Rochester has a barbershop called … ‘The Men’s Room.’ My sister used to cut hair there. Can’t say I didn’t tease her about it.”
***
In Part X, I wrote,
Cities sometimes get nicknames: “City of Lights” (Paris). “Eternal City” (Rome). These names can be kind of dorky. But, you know? There is an air, a feeling, of eternality about Rome.
A friend of mine from Lubbock, Texas, writes,
Lubbock is the “Hub City.” Whole lotta nowhere, and Lubbock is right in the middle of it.
!!
***
Back to Part XI—in which I aired a pet peeve:
At Roma Termini—the main rail station in the capital—I see the Leonardo Express. It runs to and from the main airport. And it makes me think of a lost cause of mine.
Italians refer to the painter as “Leonardo.” If they want a fuller name, they say “Leonardo da Vinci.” Americans have learned, somehow, to say “da Vinci.” I’m afraid there is nothing to be done about it.
It’s like calling William of Orange “of Orange.”
Michelangelo’s full name is “Michelangelo Buonarroti.” But we never call him “Buonarroti.” Thank heaven for small mercies.
“Not so fast,” says a reader (in so many words). Have I ever seen The Agony and the Ecstasy, the 1965 movie starring Charlton Heston as Michelangelo and Rex Harrison as Pope Julius II? No, I haven’t. Well, the Pope says such things as, “The audience is over, Buonarroti!”
Huh.
***
Upon returning from Italy, I thought of something Richard Starr said, many years ago. He was one of my managing editors at The Weekly Standard. Most people think of reading about a place before they go there, he said. He liked reading about places after he had been there.
I know the feeling.
The other day, I brought up this matter with him. He said it was a hard thing to analyze. “I explained it once to someone as the difference between trying to watch an episode of a soap opera you have never seen versus tuning in to one you have been watching for years.”
That gets to it, yes.
***
Pause for a little language? Home in New York, I encountered this awning, at a restaurant:
“Eccolo” means “Here it is.” That accent, on the awning, is all wrong. Maybe they want you to stress the first syllable? That is right. But their acute accent signals an “ay” sound, as in “hay.” The “ecc” in “eccolo” rhymes with “heck,” basically—so “Èccolo” would be more appropriate.
Anyway, here is another sign, at the restaurant:
Yes!
***
In the block next to me, in front of a movie complex, a strange, large horse went up:
That was for the premiere of Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey.
***
A banner at the Union Theological Seminary (affiliated with Columbia University):
“Blessed are the Activists.” Do you agree? Some are, some aren’t.
***
I took a watch in to have a battery replaced. I took it to the company itself—the company that made the watch. This is important to know.
I said to the nice lady, “How long should I expect the new battery to last?” She said, “A year, year and a half.” “Is that all?” I said. “They lasted a lot longer before, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” she said, “but they make crap now. Everything is crap. Nothing lasts, the way it used to.”
I was so glad she said that. Glad for the candor, I mean.
***
Here is a little sports action I had never encountered in New York before:
***
I had never noticed this—a little statue, a little monument—in front of a firehouse:
***
More and more, I see families, begging together. Often, it’s a mother, sitting with her son (or a boy I presume to be her son). The son is apt to be looking at his phone while his mother begs.
What will be the effect on him?
***
It is a hot, sweltering day. There are vendors on the sidewalk, with their booths side by side. A woman has plastic cups of cut-up watermelon. A man, her neighbor, wants one. “How much?” he asks. “Six dollars,” she answers. He says—yells—“Come on! I’m poor vendor like you!”
A striking line, one that sticks with me.
***
A man walks by in a T-shirt, which says, “Picked Last in Gym.” Forlorn.
***
Somewhat unconsciously, I feign a golf swing. A woman walks by with her children, and without breaking stride she says, “Nice shot.”
I would have liked to imagine.
***
I have reason to go to Greenwich—the tony town bordering Stamford, in Connecticut. Bill Buckley lived in Stamford. He would say, “George Washington mentions Stamford in his diaries only once. ‘Breakfasted in Stamford. Not as good as Greenwich.’”
Then Bill would grin that singular grin.
Well, happy Sunday to you, my friends, and all the best, always.
The reader in question is Tom Jones, a former astronaut. He was on four Space Shuttle flights, including a 2001 flight on Atlantis. During that flight, the above photo was taken.
What are we lookin’ at? Sicily is on top. You can see Mount Etna, poking through the clouds. The sun glints on the Strait of Messina. On the other side of the strait—below Sicily—is the “toe of the boot” (the boot that is the Italian peninsula).
Now, that’s a perspective. Thank you, Tom Jones.
***
In Part XI of my journal, I wrote, “Have you ever seen a waterfall in the middle of town? I have not—until now.” I then showed a picture of Isola del Liri, a town in the Lazio region.
A reader says, in essence, “Whaddaya mean you had never seen one?” And he is right. He reminded me of the waterfall in his hometown, Rochester, N.Y. That would be High Falls, also called “Upper Falls.”
Our reader also reminded me of a place in South Dakota—Sioux Falls. Right!
Here is another line from my Part XI: “In the area is a barbershop with an English name: ‘The Men’s Room.’ Um, I would have advised something else …”
Well, let’s hear again from that same reader: “Rochester has a barbershop called … ‘The Men’s Room.’ My sister used to cut hair there. Can’t say I didn’t tease her about it.”
***
In Part X, I wrote,
Cities sometimes get nicknames: “City of Lights” (Paris). “Eternal City” (Rome). These names can be kind of dorky. But, you know? There is an air, a feeling, of eternality about Rome.
A friend of mine from Lubbock, Texas, writes,
Lubbock is the “Hub City.” Whole lotta nowhere, and Lubbock is right in the middle of it.
!!
***
Back to Part XI—in which I aired a pet peeve:
At Roma Termini—the main rail station in the capital—I see the Leonardo Express. It runs to and from the main airport. And it makes me think of a lost cause of mine.
Italians refer to the painter as “Leonardo.” If they want a fuller name, they say “Leonardo da Vinci.” Americans have learned, somehow, to say “da Vinci.” I’m afraid there is nothing to be done about it.
It’s like calling William of Orange “of Orange.”
Michelangelo’s full name is “Michelangelo Buonarroti.” But we never call him “Buonarroti.” Thank heaven for small mercies.
“Not so fast,” says a reader (in so many words). Have I ever seen The Agony and the Ecstasy, the 1965 movie starring Charlton Heston as Michelangelo and Rex Harrison as Pope Julius II? No, I haven’t. Well, the Pope says such things as, “The audience is over, Buonarroti!”
Huh.
***
Upon returning from Italy, I thought of something Richard Starr said, many years ago. He was one of my managing editors at The Weekly Standard. Most people think of reading about a place before they go there, he said. He liked reading about places after he had been there.
I know the feeling.
The other day, I brought up this matter with him. He said it was a hard thing to analyze. “I explained it once to someone as the difference between trying to watch an episode of a soap opera you have never seen versus tuning in to one you have been watching for years.”
That gets to it, yes.
***
Pause for a little language? Home in New York, I encountered this awning, at a restaurant:
“Eccolo” means “Here it is.” That accent, on the awning, is all wrong. Maybe they want you to stress the first syllable? That is right. But their acute accent signals an “ay” sound, as in “hay.” The “ecc” in “eccolo” rhymes with “heck,” basically—so “Èccolo” would be more appropriate.
Anyway, here is another sign, at the restaurant:
Yes!
***
In the block next to me, in front of a movie complex, a strange, large horse went up:
That was for the premiere of Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey.
***
A banner at the Union Theological Seminary (affiliated with Columbia University):
“Blessed are the Activists.” Do you agree? Some are, some aren’t.
***
I took a watch in to have a battery replaced. I took it to the company itself—the company that made the watch. This is important to know.
I said to the nice lady, “How long should I expect the new battery to last?” She said, “A year, year and a half.” “Is that all?” I said. “They lasted a lot longer before, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” she said, “but they make crap now. Everything is crap. Nothing lasts, the way it used to.”
I was so glad she said that. Glad for the candor, I mean.
***
Here is a little sports action I had never encountered in New York before:
***
I had never noticed this—a little statue, a little monument—in front of a firehouse:
***
More and more, I see families, begging together. Often, it’s a mother, sitting with her son (or a boy I presume to be her son). The son is apt to be looking at his phone while his mother begs.
What will be the effect on him?
***
It is a hot, sweltering day. There are vendors on the sidewalk, with their booths side by side. A woman has plastic cups of cut-up watermelon. A man, her neighbor, wants one. “How much?” he asks. “Six dollars,” she answers. He says—yells—“Come on! I’m poor vendor like you!”
A striking line, one that sticks with me.
***
A man walks by in a T-shirt, which says, “Picked Last in Gym.” Forlorn.
***
Somewhat unconsciously, I feign a golf swing. A woman walks by with her children, and without breaking stride she says, “Nice shot.”
I would have liked to imagine.
***
I have reason to go to Greenwich—the tony town bordering Stamford, in Connecticut. Bill Buckley lived in Stamford. He would say, “George Washington mentions Stamford in his diaries only once. ‘Breakfasted in Stamford. Not as good as Greenwich.’”
Then Bill would grin that singular grin.
Well, happy Sunday to you, my friends, and all the best, always.
There are very big waterfalls at the edge of Edessa in Greece. I haven't been there, but I studied the place as a possibility for my Greek itinerary a couple of years ago.
Blessed are the whactavists…who have come to be lie eve robbing Rich Peter to pay for poor Paul, I mean clothing the poor, feeding the hungry, and housing the un housed, I mean homeless, is the D.S.A., I mean Democratic Party’s priority number one…not just the Christian thing to do with one’s own blood, sweat and tears, I mean time and money…Anywho, Tom Jones is the coolest photographer on Earth. Peace be with you Jaywalker