I think I was about 13 the first time I heard someone say something that expressed what I had thought only I had experienced for many years. I was at a friend’s house; it was eairly August I think, and out of nowhere his mother, gazing out the window said, “I felt the fall this morning”. Her son laughed, but I knew exactly what she meant. From that day on, I always saw her differently. I have mentioned this feeling to several people over the years, and mostly have received courteous nods that only showed that they did not understand. It’s difficult to explain. It can occur in many different ways. The sky takes on a curious shade of blue. An out of place wisp of cool air that appears as if from nowhere. A light scent of smoke from a far off fire or a bird that lands precariously close by and then departs in a panic. I’m not sure that anyone has ever shared this feeling with me. Even the friend, whose mother had said it, used to laugh about his mother saying it. There is a feeling of nostalgia that goes along with it. It reminds me of the feeling that always came with the ending days of summer. I’m 63 now and its only August 26 and this morning I felt the fall.
©2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Retirement Shop
I have no idea of how long he had been coming there. I first saw him in 2001. I would talk to him the on the first day we would arrive in Italy. I would push my bike to his roadside repair shop and get my tires inflated. He always seemed happy to see me and never accepted any compensation for inflating my tires or for other minor adjustments.
His “shop” was simple. His small station wagon with the tailgate open was backed up and served as workbench and tool storage. Years before he had brought a large plastic pot and pored it full of concrete and put a pole down the middle. He had a makeshift bike holder that slid into the pole. This contraption held sick bikes at a proper working level.
On the ground, he would lay out a blanket that would never know a bed again. On the blanket he displayed an assortment of bike parts and accessories. He had fined tuned his inventory years before and he had a rapid turnover.
Daily, a man would arrive with a number of bikes that obviously had been discarded. A small sum was exchanged and what looked more like scrap was unloaded.
When he wasn’t busy tending to his customers, he would dismantle the scrap bikes and remove useable parts. Remaining pieces were put aside and pickup up within minuets buy one of the many scrap hunters that are everywhere.
His life story was simple. He had been a factory worker until forced into retirement. His retirement was around a thousand Euros and not enough to survive on. He had always like piddling with bikes, so he got the idea of repairing for some extra money. Italy has millions of illegal workers from all over and many use bicycles as their transportation. He never would reveal how much he was making. A few times I would hang around and talk with him and quickly calculated that he was making more from the repair shop than from his retirement pay.
This trip, I had to inflate my tires myself. The old repairman is nowhere to be found. I asked several people that have shops around the area and no one knows what happened to him. No one even knows his name. I even asked several of the “working girls” that cover this area and they didn’t know either. Everyday I see someone pushing their broken bike towards the area where the "shop" once operated. The concrete tub with the pole sticking out is all that remains.
His “shop” was simple. His small station wagon with the tailgate open was backed up and served as workbench and tool storage. Years before he had brought a large plastic pot and pored it full of concrete and put a pole down the middle. He had a makeshift bike holder that slid into the pole. This contraption held sick bikes at a proper working level.
On the ground, he would lay out a blanket that would never know a bed again. On the blanket he displayed an assortment of bike parts and accessories. He had fined tuned his inventory years before and he had a rapid turnover.
Daily, a man would arrive with a number of bikes that obviously had been discarded. A small sum was exchanged and what looked more like scrap was unloaded.
When he wasn’t busy tending to his customers, he would dismantle the scrap bikes and remove useable parts. Remaining pieces were put aside and pickup up within minuets buy one of the many scrap hunters that are everywhere.
His life story was simple. He had been a factory worker until forced into retirement. His retirement was around a thousand Euros and not enough to survive on. He had always like piddling with bikes, so he got the idea of repairing for some extra money. Italy has millions of illegal workers from all over and many use bicycles as their transportation. He never would reveal how much he was making. A few times I would hang around and talk with him and quickly calculated that he was making more from the repair shop than from his retirement pay.
This trip, I had to inflate my tires myself. The old repairman is nowhere to be found. I asked several people that have shops around the area and no one knows what happened to him. No one even knows his name. I even asked several of the “working girls” that cover this area and they didn’t know either. Everyday I see someone pushing their broken bike towards the area where the "shop" once operated. The concrete tub with the pole sticking out is all that remains.
©2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Nothing to Complain About
My retirement boredom is on hold for a few months. We are spending a few months back where I meet my wife over 40 years ago.
I came here via a free ticket provided by Uncle Sam. How lucky I was. While others were sloshing around with 50 pound backs packs through the swamps of Vietnam, I was basking in the sun on a beach outside of Naples Italy.
Today, Italy’s economy is in terrible shape. It has been bad, but the Communist came into power two years and everything got much worse. Since The conversion of the Lire to Euros, prices have doubled. Wages and retirement benefits have fallen dangerously behind. Retirees are running out of money by the 20th of each month. Many have taken to petty thievery just to be able to eat. The Communist just got kicked out of power so everyone is waiting to see if the new government can make any real progress. Meanwhile, we have people coming by the Hotel every day looking for part time jobs to supplement their income. Most Americans don’t understand and appreciate how lucky they are
I came here via a free ticket provided by Uncle Sam. How lucky I was. While others were sloshing around with 50 pound backs packs through the swamps of Vietnam, I was basking in the sun on a beach outside of Naples Italy.
Today, Italy’s economy is in terrible shape. It has been bad, but the Communist came into power two years and everything got much worse. Since The conversion of the Lire to Euros, prices have doubled. Wages and retirement benefits have fallen dangerously behind. Retirees are running out of money by the 20th of each month. Many have taken to petty thievery just to be able to eat. The Communist just got kicked out of power so everyone is waiting to see if the new government can make any real progress. Meanwhile, we have people coming by the Hotel every day looking for part time jobs to supplement their income. Most Americans don’t understand and appreciate how lucky they are
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)