Johnny Be Good

Last night I went to a little local pub called, of all things, Johnny Be Good, in Silvi Marina, the community next to us here in Italy.  Z Z King was the group appearing, singing the blues with all their hearts and inviting their friends up onto the stage to jam with them. It was wall to wall people, the crowd loved this group and the music was great, hand clapping, toe tapping fun.

But what I noticed more that anything else was just the sheer physicality of the folks there. Italians are such physical people. People come in, hug, kiss each other on both cheeks, look each other in the eye, stand and talk for awhile, stroke each others hair or face or back while talking. This is men greeting men, women greeting women, men greeting women, women greeting men, old greeting young, young greeting old. When they part, the kissing starts again and the lingering, the taking time to separate as if they're reluctant. Good-byes stretch out.

Because it was my first time there and I knew only one other person besides my husband, I had a chance to really observe for the evening, in between foot stomping and cheering for the musicians. As an American, the cultural difference was startling.  It seemed such an elemental way to contact one another, to connect with one another. I saw their pleasure in each others company and their freedom to express it. This is a good way to live. A way of simple pleasures.

And then, when it was time to leave, my friend, who hadn't seen us since the summer, invited my husband and me to walk with him to his apartment a short distance away so he could give us some of his favorite cheese and some pasta sauce his mother had just made. He hugged us, kissed us on both cheeks, talked of events coming up where we might meet, told us how his wife and son were, took a long time to say good-bye, seemed like he was reluctant to have us leave. I felt special. I have a lot to learn and I like this way of learning.

What are you learning these days?