Day 17

I begin the day with a high speed walk with Jenna and the boys to the train station so that they can catch the 10:23. Destination Florence. They board the train with two minutes to spare. I walk beside them as they traipse from car three to their assigned seats in car eleven. They're inside. I'm on the outside looking in.

As I walk home I wonder what magic they'll see during the day as I cross my fingers, hoping the rain holds off. Enroute, I sneak into a children's clothing shop to by a present for a former student who just had a baby.

The day was oddly sentimental for me. I saw familiar faces -- the guy with the bow tie, the woman with red, I mean RED, hair who works at the farmacia, and the black lab that sits in front of Le Petite Cafe. I wondered if they recognized me or if I'm part of the blur. Thoughts turn to E.A. Robinson's Mr Flood's Party and the idea of many strangers shutting many doors that many friends opened long ago.

My quotidian activities pale in comparison to those of Jenna and the boys. At Florence, they climb the Duomo (it's a mile high I think), and they see the David. Even though I'd built him up to extraordinary heights, the David did not disappoint. At the museum, Jenna manages to explain the concept of immaculate conception (along with not so immaculate conception) and how Michaelangelo released the David from the block of marble all in one sitting.

(Reason #247 why she's totally amazing.)

They eat an incredible lunch at the Slo Food place, Gozzi Sergio, that I had enjoyed a week and a half ago. They also buy some cool things at the street market, including a tree ornament. This has become a habit of ours - to buy ornaments on vacation. We do this in the spirit of Leo Leoni's character Frederick, who in the middle of dark, cold winter warmed his community with stories of happy times.

Jenna and both boys came home awed by the experience. When I met them at the station, they were full of appreciation for art, tall buildings, and, so I learn, the gelato of Florence.

When we get home, we're relaxed and happy, so we throw caution to the wind and take the boys to Pappagallo, the amazing old Bologna restaurant that I'd enjoyed a couple of weeks ago.

Our concern? How would the boys handle a two and a half our meal with tuxedoed waiters? And, how would the waiters handle the boys? We needn't have worried. The boys were angels, reading their books through dinner. And the waiters were professionals. They didn't miss a beat, whether it was bringing breadsticks immediately or making a huge deal out of opening the boys' orange sodas.

The symbolic act of the evening: Orrie asking for seconds on the pasta. The segundi primi -- Orrie style!

Pappagallo is very old school, and it's exactly what we needed. It's a place where only one person sees the prices. (Cooper assured us that he'd foot the bill!) What can I say, the food, the waiters. It was perfecto. From the Tri Monte Sangiovese Thea to the flan to the ragu to the duck to the deep fried apple coated in sugar to the "gredy" basket of creme and fruit, everything was just great, including all those pictures on the wall of celebrity diners, some apparently a hundred years old.

Day's end: Cooper and I on the couch listening to the sounds of the street pouring in through the open window. Around the corner, someone's playing electric guitar, a soft slow Stairway to Heaven. You can just make out the melody over the hum of the scooters outside the window. Jenna and Orrie have gone off to bed to read themselves to sleep. Cooper and I soon to follow.

Day 16

Rome 1 Boys 0

Or as John Keats put it:

Was it a silent deep-disguised plot
To steal away, and leave without a task
My idle days? Ripe was the drowsy hour;
The blissful cloud of summer-indolence


No matter how you slice it, and here it's sliced pretty thin, the boys were whupped. Though they're happy hanging out until the wee hours of the night eating gelato, their little boy bodies need some serious Z's. We finally got them out of the sack with the lure of cereal and perfect weather.

Today was "back to work day." Scott had to teach his class and earn his keep, and Jenna had an EPIC grading day, in which she spent untold hours evaluating projects bad and good and listening to the buzz of scooters and buses outside the window.

This left the boys free to wander Bologna in search of biking gloves, cheese, and other interesting items. No luck on the gloves front, but we did happen into some excellent little cookies, a sampling of which we brought home to Jenna.

Once again, we encountered our fair share of hams. We saw hams in places that defied explanation. Walking down an otherwise hip, trendy street, we saw some hams dangling from the ceiling of a wine bar. "Want some ham with that Chianti?" (That's a meeting of the hams to the left.) In another store, we saw hams wearing little suits and ties. Just let your mind wander. Hams have been there, done that.

Daniela, the chairperson of the department, went to lunch with the boys and I. She took us to a Sicilian pizza place where the boys got children's coloring books that juxtaposed racy pictures of women and "find the differences in these pictures" pages.

Daniela also took the boys our for gelato, which was great. No one would have ever expected they were tourists what with their Italia sweatshirts!

The evenings of great Italian food will soon be no more. Tonight, we went to another sidewalk restaurant and the boys ate mortadella, pasta with parmesan, and a 2010 Fanta. Jenna and I traded dishes half way through so that we could each enjoy our share of a pumpkin tortellini all but swimming in a rich balsamic sauce (can pasta "wade" in sauce?) that resembled squid ink but tasted like pure heaven.

As none other than Pooh would say, we concluded the evening with just a little smackerel of gelato.

Day 15

The Rise of Rome!

The day broke beautiful. An amazing breakfast at our hotel that included bologna, frosted flakes, and nutella. And then we were off. First, the Pantheon!

Closed -- again (argh)

Hope sprung eternal and we headed off to the Collesium. It was a free day, but we opted to pay for the guided tour, which was a good choice. We learned how they brought and killed thousands of animals from Africa and how they used trap doors to have the animals pop up on the floor of the arena. Arena, by the way, we found out means "sand", which was what was on the floor to soak up the blood. We learned about gladiators, and about how thumbs up meant slice the gladiators throat. (Not good).

We were told that the Romans would sometimes flood the arena floor to stage naval battles. Hard to believe. But, when you consider that they had a canvas covering for the entire place, nothing surprises you. The big tarp was hoisted by sailors. The big pillars by elephants. And the big cats by workers under the floor of the arena.

We then went up to the Palatine and saw Augustus Ceaser's old house. Incredible views. You turn back and you see the Collesium and these wonderful grassy fields.

Next time, we'll bring a picnic and just hang out up here. Rome is, and was, a city of seven hills. Sitting atop one that was largely unspoiled, you got a sense of what it must have been like thousands of years ago, just some little hills along a river.

The history can be overwhelming. No one has the feet or the head to gather it all in. We tried out best to balance relaxing and learning. We consulted maps and books throughout the walk so that we wouldn't miss the little things like the green stains in the forum floor that were remnants of the money changer's copper coins that had been seared into the marble when Rome was burned in the late fifth century. Or, the crazy view of the Circus Maximum.

We made the long walk back to the hotel and had a relaxing lunch and then FINALLY, to the Pantheon. It's two thousand years old and was built to celebrate all gods (Pan + Theos). Luckily though, the Catholics claimed it early and it's been saved. There are 22 little holes in the ground that drain off the water that pours through the roof -- that is when Cooper's head isn't stopping it up.
I don't know if it's the dome, the columns, the marble interior, or the sunlight pouring in, but this is one of the most impressive buildings I've ever seen. They say, if you come to Rome and don't see the Pantheon, that you arrive an a-- and you leave one as well.

I wonder what our not seeing the Sistine Chapel makes us?

On the way to the train, we stopped and saw a person blowing bubbles and even caught a glimpse of the famous Michigan Hotel (see left). For those less versed in history, on the second floor in a small room with a leaky window, Cicero spent many a summer in this hotel writing some of his best work. Some historians claim it was here he wrote the first off tackle play. It involved pulling a Samnite guard.

We caught our train home. We all read and vegged out and then had a fabulous dinner in Bologna at a streetside cafe. Jenna's genius revealed itself once again after Orrie had lost a bookmark. In full Agatha Christie mode, she correctly deduced he must have slipped it in his menu - a la Uncle Billy in "It's a Wonderful Life".

As we sat in the Bologna's gorgeous piazza and ate gelato by the moonlight, I was inclined to agree. It is a wonderful life.

Day 14

Rome!

We got up early and hopped the EuroRail - a mere two hour and twenty minute trip. We arrived during a mild rain and had a long trudge across town with luggage. Our energy was flagging, so we stopped at a ristorante where the boys each had their own pizzas.

Then we were off on La Dolce Vita, stopping at the famous Trevi Fountain, which despite the weather was packed. We then fought our way through an umbrella wielding crowd to our hotel, which was only a block from the Pantheon. We got to the hotel and crashed for a couple hours waiting for the rain to clear.

Then we were off and we hit obstacles at every path. The Pantheon was closed for a service. If we strained against the gate, we could see the hole in the center of the dome though. That was very cool. By the time we made the mile and half walk to the Collesium, we found that it had closed for the day, as had the entrance to the Forum. Undaunted, we headed off toward the Circus Maximus and let the boys run around on the old chariot grounds to work off some energy. Pretty cool. Then back to the hotel and off to a lovely dinner.

All in all, we've had better travel days. Our first impressions of Rome were that it needed more parks and that it could be a bit cleaner. Overall though, we were impressed and at times awed by the ruins. We were just eager to be able to see them up close.

We did get to see inside some amazing churches, one of which had an exhibit on Galileo. Jenna noted that we think of the Catholic Church as being opposed to science, and yet, historically, they had a deep interest in all things scientific. (They just weren't always happy with what they found). Jenna called the churches "the palaces of the people." I thought that a beautiful sentiment.

The highlight of the day came as we walked home from our trek to the Collesium. We're all tired, the boys are mudstained, and we're over a mile from the hotel. We cross the bridge that crosses a little island in the Tiber. This was the spot where Rome was first founded. On this bridge, people attach locks to decorative loops on posts. On the locks are proclamations of love -- Paolo and Stacey 4/24/2010. The keys, presumably, lie at the bottom of the river.

As tired as we were, we could still appreciate this little morsel of beauty.

Day 13

Best day so far!! Jenna, Orrie, and Cooper arrived from Ann Arbor (without the dog!). Their plane flew a Southern route to avoid ash, so Jenna and the boys had a TIGHT connection in Paris. They made the Bologna plane by running probably a mile through Charles de Gaulle and then leveraging Jenna's French to talk their way onto the flight.

I don't know when I've been a happy to see someone as I was to see Jenna walking down the corridor from baggage claim with both boys at her side.

As soon as we got to the apartment, we went out for some amazing pizza, which we brought back home. It was so good, we went out and bought Orrie even more. Then, while Jenna slept, the boys and I got gelato, toured some churches, and got our train tickets to Rome.

Both boys lit candles and said prayers for their grandfathers. Having been alone here, I've spent an enormous amount of time thinking about my father's wanderings through Europe when he was in the service. He would sometimes talk about the food in Italy. Having the boys take just a moment to reflect on him and on Jenna's father was special, particularly given the setting, a fabulous six hundred year old church.

After resting a cleaning up a bit, I took the boys and Jenna on a long rainy walk to a jazz dinner club. The club has a cavern like room with great acoustics. We had an incredible cheese and jam appetizer. The pear jam was really more of a sauce -- fantastico as they say here. (My rule is "speak Spanish, add an "o", and say it with gusto.) And the strawberry tasted just like grandma's.

The boys LOVED their pasta. Jenna and I had seafood pasta dishes. (Note to self -- start making homemade pasta again.) I'm still trying to figure out how they make these little diced pieces of fish that they toss in their pasta. It's somehow firm like little pieces of meat.

The whole scene was almost too good to be true. Family, music, laughter, great food, wonderful wine, and no more work. All the little things fell into place too. The jazz trio's drummer was full of life and made faces at the boys, and our waiter was amazing -- asking Orrie to feel his muscle.

After two weeks without my family, I could do little but stare at them and smile. Yeah, it's great that they're among the most beautiful people I've ever seen (especially Jenna - wow!) but it's better that they're such a happy, healthy bunch. And how cool were the boys? Hanging at a jazz club.

Then home -- but first some gelato. You have to keep your priorities. Rome next. Can't wait.

Day 12

Night falls on Bologna.

The towers are all tucked in and ready for sleep.

The students continue to pound the pavement.

What an unbelievable day. I lectured for four continuous hours and then went out for "apertivos" with some of my students. Apertivos are an inverse Happy Hour. You pay more for drinks (lots more), but you get free food. The better the food, the more you pay for drinks. Some people here treat apertivo as dinner. Others, I presume, just have more dinner. The synergies between students and apertivos have to be seen to be believed.

My students told me that I had to go out to this osteria called Osteria del Orso ("Tavern of the Beer" to you anglos) so I did. Here's the scene: small outdoor seating area across the street from the entrance abutting a six hundred year old church. ("We don't have a sidewalk, so let's use the church's!). You walk in and there are three tables that seat six. That's it. And they're packed. Then you hear some noise and you head downstairs and find a medium sized room filled with people playing a little game called "let's see how many people can laugh and talk at the same time." Seems almost too much fun and you become convinced that up until this moment you didn't know you'd had a Calvinist upbringing.

Even better, after sitting down and getting a menu you notice that not a single person, as in no one, has any food yet. And they don't care. They're all too busy saying "no, watch me, I can laugh while talking" Thirty minutes later, you're still waiting for the second visit from the waiter and you decide better come back some other time.

I don't know the reason but today several groups of schoolchildren were touring the city. They couldn't have been local because they were all so excited about the many towers. Torre! Torre! The little boys would shout as they pointed in the air at the towers. Now you might wonder, how you point at a tower under a portico, and the answer is you don't. You can only see the towers at corners, which drives the boys crazy with excitement. From the teacher's perspective, the whole tower thing just adds an unnecessary degree of difficulty to getting boys across intersections.

Once again, while walking home I happened by all the students hanging out on the cement chatting, smoking, and drinking. This is the anti-Stanford, where everyone is hyper or as the say here "iper" fit, healthy, studious, and ambitious. Here, it's all about being cool. Very cool. People here smoke cigarettes about the diameter of a swizzle stick.

Tomorrow's another big day. Along with Jon Elster (who's just popped in from Paris for the occasion), I'm participating in a public panel on the topic of the problems caused by excessive ambition. I kid you not. (I even saw the event advertised in the local paper.) I can only imagine that upon my return to the states, that I'll be invited to share my two cents on the problem of excessive compassion in New York.

Oh well. Eleven hours then it's my turn to strut and fret across the stage. Shirt's Pressed. Pants cleaned. And, far more important, fifteen hours until the arrival of Jenna, Orrie, and Cooper. I wonder if they're bringing Bounder....

Day 11

Today, my thoughts have been consumed by Jenna and the boys and their pending arrival on Friday. I'm concerned about the safety of the flight. Is the trip worth the risk, given that we've been given no hard information about the ash's effect on the engines? Can it really cost that much to tear apart one engine, check the damage, and comfort everyone? I think not.

The necessity of work kept me occupied. Today, on my walk to the office -- left out the door, cross the street, veer right at the two towers and then follow portico covered Strada Maggiore -- I got caught by surprise. I noticed a church entrance not marked on my two Euro map. I thought it might be cute. Turns out to be among the more ornate churches I've seen in Bologna. Just gorgeous. (see left)

How did I miss a church this large? Easy. The porticoes limit the visible height of any entrance to fifteen feet or so. With a porch overhead, you cannot tell whether you're standing at the base of the Empire State Building or a thatched roof hut.

The porticoes also hide the towers. Walking around you wouldn't know this is a city full of towers, then you cross the street. Suddenly, you get a clear view and become aware that you're an easy shot for the flaming arrow laden archers situated at the top of that tower at the end of the street.

I have odd affectation that I learned on the streets of Chicago. I stand up close to the towers and look up, so that they appear to be thousands of feet high. Cool eh?

The pictures that I've published so far highlight the beauty of Bologna -- the old Roman roads and walls, the churches, and the towers, always the towers. A more honest appraisal of the city would reveal graffiti. Why, one might ask, would someone paint on such beautiful doors and walls? Why mar buildings that have been around for over a thousand years?

Lack of power, and lack of pride. These people are not included in the power structure of the city. They don't care about these old buildings, but they know that those in power do. For that reason, I'm told that people in the city are of mixed mind. Some want it cleaned up and harsher punishment on offenders. Others think the graffiti should remain until the city is more equitable. When that happens, the graffiti will stop.

I'm told that in some of the more closer knit towns to the North, they have community wide clean-up days, in which everyone comes together to beautify the town. That can only be accomplished in a place in which people feel a sense of collective ownership. Bologna has a ways to go.

Have I not mentioned food yet? How serious have I become? Tonight, I met with my friend Marco who took me to a really interesting place in the center of town that offers yoga and dance classes, places for people to meet, and has a nifty vegetarian, organic cafeteria. That's right, I used a tray!!! Even so, good food (this is Italy). I had a fabulous polenta casserole.

Marco then took me to a funky organic gelato place. You approach it from the sidewalk and these two huge plastic windows slide open like a sun roof on it's side. Totally cool. It also had blue and green block tile. Perfect mix for Jenna and the boys -- tile, gelato, and futuristic windows.

I'm having a wonderful time teaching. I've got more people coming to my class now then there were at the beginning. They're so laid back here. For example, some guy from Germany who's just hanging out in town heard about the class and is observing. I don't know if I'm more impressed by him for being so intellectually engaged or in the University of Bologna for being so encouraging of him sitting in the class.

Tonight, in the shadow of the towers, as I hurredly returned home from my evening with Marco so that I could see the lovely Jenna on Skype, I stopped to watch a merry band of about a hundred students. Leading the way were three young men pulling a wagon carrying another young man playing a bass cello. Intermixed in the crowd were others playing guitar.

I stood for a precious moment and just sucked in the raw expression of life.