Bob Dylan in Lucca. Highly Doubtful.

When I first saw the list of performers for the Lucca Summer Music Festival, I thought it was a hoax.  I couldn't think of a more unlikely concert than Bob Dylan in Lucca.  London...sure.  Paris...perhaps.  But Lucca?  It was just bizarre.  Why would Bob Dylan come to perform in Lucca?  So when the date finally arrived (yesterday), my curiosity had finally pushed me over the edge.  I packed a seat cushion from the apartment and headed out to the square just adjacent to the closed off seating area for the concert. I knew that this was a poor man's cop out for a real ticket but I just couldn't bring myself to spring $350.00 for a reserved seat.  I'm not THAT much of a groupie.  

     

.     Why did Bob Dylan choose to play in Lucca?  Strange.

     

       The stage for the Summer Festival in Lucca.

For the first 80 minutes or so of the performance, I was deeply disappointed.  Every "song"/" mumble" that he did was totally new and unrecognizable to me.  I got tired of standing behind the metal barricades and found a place to sit on a step nearby.  I was so proud of myself for having the good sense to bring a cushion.  

Then, strangely, Dylan's musicians and his own showmanship abruptly flipped a switch. The crew launched into a wonderful, bluesy, infectious set for the final 20 minutes.  The audience around me picked up on the vibe immediately.  All of a sudden people lost control of their feet, unable to stop themselves from tapping.  People around me started to dance because it just felt like the right thing to do.  The whole mood was one of joy and being one with the music.  It was one of those transformative moments that I can't describe.  It just "happened" The words being mumbled were meaningless.  It was the magic of the rhythm that was in control.  Why fight it.  Just smile and give your partner a hug.  

And then, just as suddenly as the music started, it just ended.  The lights came on.  The crowd started to file out in almost total silence like monks on their way to prayer, and I headed for home about 10 minutes away.  But wait.  The evening wasn't done with me yet.

It was still nearly 80 degrees outdoors. The city was still not ready to sleep.  The restaurants were teeming with people even though it was nearly Midnight.  Nobody seemed ready to call it a night. No reason to fight the rest of the local community.  I gave in to their common sense.  "Head for the wall" the voice inside me prodded.  Head for the wall.  Good move.

     

      Moonrise over Lucca about Midnight.  Totally unscripted.

I didn't order the moon to rise just as I got to the top of the wall.  It just happened.  Just a few yards along the wall, is the botanical garden in Lucca.  During the day, it's a relaxing place to stop and enjoy the peace of the grounds.  But at night they turn on spotlights to show off the trees on the inside.  I was really delighted by the surprise.

     

      Typical Lucca flair. Don't hurry past.  Sit down and savor.

Normally, I don't usually make the full tour of the wall but  this night wasn't normal.  So off I went.  The pace was slow.  The air was fresh and the aftermath of the concert was still at work.  God was trying to tell me something.

     

      The wall at 1:00 AM.  Still lots of people out and about.

So finally about 1:30 AM when I finally made it back to my apartment, I was ready to collapse.  But it was a good lesson that I took home with me.  I was reminded (as if for the 99th time) that music touches people in a way that words and pictures cannot.  Music is the thing that moves people.  Music is what Invigorates revolutions.  Music is what armies and sports teams use to push them forward. Music is used to access the most fundamental core of our being.  Music is nourishment for the soul.  Music doesn't need words, least of all from Bob Dylan.  I think he knows that.  It's why he still loves performing at age 82.  

Maybe he knew I'd be in Lucca this night.

Or maybe it maybe it was just a weird coincidence.  But for me, it was a happy coincidence.  

So that's my story, and I'm stickin to it

Dan

     

Sex & Toys in Italy

OK.  Now that I have your attention, let me be the first to disappoint.  This isn't going to be a tantalizing post about Italian sex toys.  You can find that with an extra Google search.  No this post today occurred to me two days ago when I went out shopping for a toy for Spencer, my 2 year old grandson.  I missed sending out a gift to him because I was here in Lucca when he turned 2 and I thought it would be better to find something fun for him here since the whole family was going to be here for 8 days in late June.  Easy solution, I thought.

Well, the week came an went and it ended up with no gift in hand (or luggage either).  I needed to fix this.  So as luck would have it, I finally stumbled into a toy store when it was OPEN.  You have to be here to understand how often shops are closed... especially the shops that sell nonessential things like children's toys.  If you want a bottle of wine or a mountain of sweet pastry, those shops are always open.  A SIM card for your phone or a replacement table lamp...be prepared to wait.  Here was a wonderful little toy store and it was open for business.  Allah be praised!

One thing that is delightful about European toy stores is how they offer so many high quality, mind expanding choices for young people.  Toys tend to be a bit expensive, but they are designed to last and to be timeless.  They are also designed to encourage creativity (think Lego).  In short, they are an investment rather than a distraction. They aren't intended to be thrown away after they break.  They are designed NOT to break.  

     

       Delightful toy store in Lucca.  10 feet wide. 40 feet deep.

     

      One item of everything on display.  Buy it if you like it.  They                  might not have another in stock!

So now, finally, we can start to talk about sex.  I promise.  The Italian word for "toy" is  "giocco".  According to the rules of the language, " "giocco" is Masculine.  Every noun in Italian must have a sex.  Oh boy, here we go.  Usually the spelling tells you immediately whether a word/idea is masculine or feminine.  The giveaway is normally the final letter of the word.  Words that end in "o" are "masculine".  Words that end in "a" are feminine.  So the word for "day"..."giorno" is obviously masculine because it ends with "o".  The word for "night" ..."sera" is obviously feminine because it ends with "a".  Hey, this is easy.  I can do this.

But wait. There is more.  Any adjective that explains the word must also agree in both sex and number.  Thus, we are required to say  "buon giorno"..." good day/hello" as the greeting in the early part of the day.  But things must change in the evening.  That greeting is "buonA sera"... because "sera" is feminine and the adjective must agree with the sex of the word in front of it.  Ok.  For me this is like trying to maneuver through a mental mine field.  Is "table" masculine or feminine?  What about 2 tables?/2 days/2 weeks/2 stars/2 dogs/2 bicycles.  Oh God get me out of this quagmire, NOW.  Why am I condemned to always deal with sex.  Maybe I should just leave.

As soon as I begin to speak, any native speaker of Italian knows I'm a foreigner.  Some will just let me struggle on in Italian.  Others, like the owner of the toy shop will just switch to English and save time and frustration.  So I brought my purchases to the cash register and she asked me if the items were a gift.  Yes they were.  Did I want them gift wrapped?  Yes again.  Was the gift for a boy or a girl? (The sex part)  One for a girl and two for boys.  Here is the final result.

     

     3 expertly wrapped gifts.  2 blue bows for boys.  1 pink for girls.

Yes, this is gender stereotyping.  Chill out.  I didn't invent Italian culture.  I'm just buying something.  But this wasn't intended to insult anyone.  It was meant to celebrate the diversity of life.  Sex is baked into the language and the culture.  I'm not going to change the language or the culture with my purchases.  I'm simply going to stuff these into my suitcase and move on to something much more important.  Like..."when am I supposed to meet my friend Sergio for coffee today?" And of course... "Is coffee masculine or feminine?"

(FYI...it's masculine)

That's my story, and I'm stickin to it.

Dan