So maybe I stay in Italia

I have discovered (the joys of hopping on a plane with little idea of exact destination) that we are in Pordenone, an industrial city some 50 km from Venice, up closer to Trieste. I say, if this is industrial, Bridgeport needs it badly. There’s a series of great, open plazas, filled yesterday with cafes and sophisticated – looking men and women enjoying espressos and cigarettes – heaven on earth for this caveman. Today, Saturday, is market day, and those same plazas are crammed with vegetable and fruit stands, cheap shoes for sale and every sort of household item you might or probably don’t want. Picture Greenwich Sidewalk sales Days but fascinating, not dull.

The people are warm and friendly, the food is fabulous. Last night at dinner the head waiter rolled up the fish cart on which, bedded on ice, were beautiful whole fish, eyes glistening, and offered us our choice. We ordered a black sea bass, baked in salt (I do this at home – make a paste of rock salt, bake, and at tableside, remove salt coat, taking along with it the skin. Excellent). Before the fish came a series of appetizers: one shrimp bedded on artichoke, bay scallops on shells, etc. certainly one of the best meals I’ve ever enjoyed, and again, this is supposed to be some industrial laggard of a town.

It’s strange to be half-way through the day before New York wakes up, but there you have it. We’re off to lunch at a more modest place than last night’s restaurant, then more sightseeing and tonight the opening of the film festival. Had breakfast today with Jean Darling, the child star of “Our Gang”.  My mother remembers her, and the rest of Our Gang, showing up at my mother’s fifth birthday in 1929 back in Hollywood. Both ladies are still going strong.

Here are some pictures I snapped on this morning’s walk. Notice that we have a Scientology office even here – Scusie reports seeing John Travolta inside, applying electrified cans to the temples of Frank and Cathy Lee Gifford but I can’t say I saw what she did. We’ll have to wait for Greenwich Time to give us the official word. Venice later in the week.

Market day, Pordenone

If Greenwich cops drove these, I wouldn't have a criminal record. Hmm.

Valbella's? Scusie says so.

The more educated, the dumber

Proving that well-educated people can be panicked just as thoroughly and well as their most primitive ancestors, Greenwich Academy parents have succeeded in forcing the school to spend $100 grand on replacing recycled rubber mulch for wood chips. Is rubber safe? Absolutely and been proven to be so in test after test. Is wood inferior as a playground mulch? Depends how you feel about provining a burrow for rats and snakes and whether you want your kid to play on an ice-hard surface in winter. GA parents do.

“Of course it [rubber mulch] is completely safe,” one administrator is quoted, “but the perception….”. And that’s what passes for science these days among the elite: perception. Don’t confuse me with facts, it’s my feelings that count.

These are the same mommies who you’ll find shunning vaccines and spending their family’s money on wholly worthless homeopathic “remedies” at Whole Foods because, after all, it just feels so good to protect their child, doesn’t it?

I don’t wish harm on their children, but perhaps aq slight does of measels?