Sandwich Supermarket Sandmarket Supersandwich

       I’m here at a watering hole an our or so outside of Bologna with some seventeen-year-olds I met on a drunken binge last night in the city.  I thought coming here was a good idea based on that simple “travel mentality”, always taking the road more challenging as it is meant to lead toward some sort of fruit tree thing.  In this case, however, we’ve been sitting here for hours, and sit we will for hours more, and it’s a lovely place but I keep fearing that I’m missing something in the city.  It is crazy to think that they are ten years younger than I, but of course I feel closer in my life to them, as opposed to some thirty-seven-year-old with — gasp! — his life “in order”.  I suppose that there is something wrong with this.  Perhaps I ought to find my own place, once and forever?  Maybe let’s nix that, but I do feel the pull to grow beyond this.  Let’s nix that, too, but maybe I should just enjoy myself, generally speaking.  Life advice.

   My first day in Bologna, I found the AirBNB apartment, where I chatted a bit with my host, then went straight for the Cineteca, where I met an Italian film/music student doing his MA on Chaplin’s film scores.  Later, I went on to watch Monicelli’s ‘I Campagni’, starring Marcello Mastroianni and Renato Salvatori, and it was certainly great, inspiring, somewhat naive, probably relevant for the time.  Film’s role in society then was of great social importance, and I could say more on this subject, but I won’t.  Did you hear that Mario Monicelli defenestrated himself from his hospital room?  He chose this, rather than face a slow, painful death, and he was already in his 90s.  Brave bastard.

    I was to meet my Chaplin friend for a drink, but I got nervous in the face of his friendliness and instead I ate a sandwich from the supermarket.

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~ by nearhelsinki on January 19, 2012.

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