"A tavola non si invecchio." -- Italian Proverb (Rough translation: At the table with friends and family, you don't become old.)
DETROIT -- The Italians do have a gift for language and whatever they say, from the tender to the vile, sounds so spirited and lovely. You don't have to be Italian to appreciate the wonderful lyricism and musical quality of the language.
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Approaching what's sure to be a long winter of political discontent -- a terrible war with no end in sight, the dollar dipping and Republican deficits rising, and the certain knowledge that a second Bush term will be far worse than the first -- I seek mental and emotional diversion, and attempt to escape the gloomy reality of our times.
As the Italians say, "A mali estremi, estremi rimedi," that is, desperate times call for desperate measures.
While I'm not quite desperate, I do seek the solace of things that take my mind away from daily events like George W. Bush's horrible Cabinet appointments.
Condoleezza Rice, the worst and most thoroughly politicized national security adviser in U.S. history, gets promoted to secretary of state, an even higher office she is sure to dishonor. Rice, who peddled insecurity ("We don't want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud") to promote Bush's predetermined plan to invade Iraq, proved herself willing to say anything to sell the aggression. Her cynicism, deception, duplicity and manipulation make Henry Kissinger seem like George Marshall.
Alberto Gonzales, the attorney general designate, is equally unfit for the job. As White House Counsel, he wrote memos insisting the president is essentially a king and his powers in war are unlimited and not subject to judicial review.
Gonzales actually paved the road to the shame at Abu Ghraib when he wrote that the Geneva Conventions, forbidding torture, inhuman treatment of prisoners and outrages on personal dignity, were "obsolete" and "quaint."
Gonzales has consistently shown a willingness to chuck the rule of law to please his patron, George W. Bush. When Bush was Texas governor, his stance for the "culture of life" included executing 150 men and 2 women. The government-sanctioned murder can only be stopped through a clemency process.
Gonzales was Bush's top lawyer in Austin, providing him with a memo the morning of each execution.
Alan Berlow, who wrote an article in the July/August 2003 issue of the "Atlantic Monthly" magazine about Gonzales, got hold of the memos and found some startling gaps in the diligence and work of the man soon to be our attorney general.
While human lives were in the balance, Berlow found that "a close examination of the Gonzales memoranda suggests that Governor Bush frequently approved executions based on only the most cursory briefings on the issues in dispute. In fact, in these documents Gonzales repeatedly failed to appraise the governor of crucial issues in cases at hand: ineffective counsel, conflict of interest, mitigating evidence, even actual evidence of innocence."
Bush probably preferred little review of the cases of the doomed, but an officer of the court should be held to a higher standard, and Gonzales should be held accountable for his legal negligence.
Those two Bush cronies and third-rate politicians set the sycophantic standard for a cabinet that will be a chorus of trusted insiders singing the praises of the boss who can do no wrong and never admits making a mistake. I digress, but I had to get that off my chest.
Studying Italian provides me with a sense of harmony and charm sadly absent from so much of contemporary American life.
"Italian is like music. And why not? Life is like music, too." That's what Georgina Cascardo says with her ever-present smile. She was my teacher in first-year Italian class and in my second year I have her son Roberto.
They share a passionate love of the language, culture and people of Italy and show others those delights. Georgina was actually born in Detroit, but moved back to her family home in Tuscany as a child and returned to the United States after World War II.
Roberto also describes Italian as "musical" and "lyrical" and so gentle on the ear. Mother and son are bright and vibrant and they are fine teachers. They exude a wonderful sense of humor, which is not always expected when you're trying to conjugate some irregular Italian verb.
On Thursday nights, I spend two hours in class, struggling as I mangle pronunciations, forgetting even fundamental vocabulary and using fractured syntax in a language which is much more predictable than English. But in spite of my limitations, I enjoy the learning experience.
My daughter Amy, who is too modest to say this, is very skilled in languages. She's fluent in Turkish and French, reads and writes classical Arabic, and has studied Sanskrit and Italian. She put me on to Italian, which she enjoys because "you don't have to know how to spell." Unlike English, nearly every word in Italian is spelled just as it sounds.
While English is the "must" language in the European community -- 47 percent of the European Union's 455 million people speak it -- Italians are sticking to their own, even when it hurts economically.
According to an Associated Press report, Italy ranks No. 15 in a country-by-country ranking of percentages of people in the EU who speak English.
"Italians, if they don't learn English, they're doomed," said Marco Incerti, a member of the Center for European Policy Studies, an independent think-tank which studies the continent's future.
I doubt they're doomed, and many wealthy Italians are now sending their kids to Ireland, Scotland and England to learn the language. Some of the Italian stubbornness and refusal to roll gleefully into the English-speaking fold stems, I believe, from their conviction that they have a better language, and they may be right.
Consider the title of Roberto Benigni's masterful film, in English, "Life is Beautiful." In German, it's "Leben ist schon," and in Italian, it's "Vita e bella." Which sounds better? It's no contest. "Vita e bella" just rolls off your tongue and the words themselves sound beautiful. In this week of giving thanks, I pay homage to the Italians, Italian-Americans and lovers of things Italian -- past and present -- for what they've given the world and how they've enriched my life.
First, of course, I am most thankful for my father-in-law, Joseph Bellonte. Now 90, his exemplary life embraces courage (he was a major in the infantry in World War II), hard work (he had a full-time job and five kids when he finished law school), integrity, decency and commitment to la famiglia -- the family -- the quintessential Italian virtue. His devotion to his wife, Julia, is a model of love and fidelity.
And for so many other Italians I offer thanks:
For Francis Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Frances Cabrini, Angelo RoncalliÊ(Pope John XXIII) and all those whose lives embraced love of the poor, forgiveness and understanding.
For Pascal Tronolone, Antonio Vivaldi, Emil Zuppa, Alexander Pocetto and all those priests whose secular talents and charisma complemented their lives in the clergy.
For Giuseppe Verdi, Giacomo Puccini, Francis Albert Sinatra, Arturo Toscanini, Peter Nero, Andrea Bocelli, Bill Conti, Tommy Tedesco, Luciano Pavarotti, Carmen Mosher, Anna Oxa and all those who share the joy of their music.
For Gen. Anthony Zinni, Filippo Mazzei, Erminio Venuto and Luigi Pirastru and all those blessed with the gift of leadership and the ability to inspire others.
For Dante Alighieri, John Ciardi, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Angela DeSantis Kreuger and all poets who know what powerful forces for good words are.
For Patti Merino, Frank Colosi, Lewis Steele and all lawyers who represent the poor, the oppressed and the forgotten, and often forget fees in the pursuit of justice.
For Sal Maglie, Joe DiMaggio, Rocky Marciano, Yogi Berra, Eddie Quarantillo, Virginia Focazio Forster, Phil Esposito, Julie Bellonte, Joe Colosi, Lenny and Gary Bevalacqua, Bobby Merino, Mario Andretti, Eddie Arcaro, Frank Colucci and all those gifted athletes whose grace and skills brought us such joy to watch and admire.
For Nicky Antonacci, Billy Bosso, Jimmy Macri, Patsy Crugnale, Teddy "Papa Forestini" Forster, Danny Cipollitti and all those who celebrate Italian food and appreciate how great simplicity, fresh ingredients and careful preparation result in culinary splendor.
For Sophia Loren, Bobby DeNiro, Al Pacino, Susan Sarandon, Anne Bancroft, Frank Capra and all those whose talent in cinema makes us sit back in awe.
For Ernest and Julio Gallo, Amedeo "Dugan" D'Aurizo, Carlo Rossi, Richard Cadille, Silvio Ciccone and all those whose labors and ventures in vino bring us great pleasure.
For Armand Castellani, Bruno Scrufari, the Certo brothers, the Elia brothers and all those who built great businesses that met human needs and created jobs for others.
For Michelangelo, Galileo, Leonardo DaVinci, Candito Jacuzzi and Guglielmo Marconi and all those creative souls who understand what we find hard to comprehend.
An ode to Italy is inexhaustible and even glaring omissions are inevitable. But since the gutsy publisher of our paper's name is Battaglia, I'll bet he might permit me to revisit the topic again some day.
Buon giorno del ringraziamento. Happy Thanksgiving.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | Nov. 23 2004 |