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Thursday, August 11, 2005

My best friend's a rockstar

My best friend is a famous star, but where I come from nobody knows him.
That's because my country is as small as a spit in the ocean, it's a
town/country, one of
those isolated places that are always untouched by wars and nobody knows how to
pronounce its name.
Not even news get there, but if they do nobody understands them. We are even tax
so a lot of people come and shop here, but nobody ever stays.
My best friend called me up one day and said he wanted to come on vacation to my

"I'll book you and your pals a hotel room then, so you can hang out naked!"
"Don't bother, I am meeting with them later in Rome, right now it's only me
going, I'll be
staying at your place."
Although I told him that, yes he would have his own room (but it was as big as
his closet)
and his own bed (but it was a foldable easy chair), and that my mom would never
ever let
him in the kitchen to cook and that there was nothing fun to do in my Country...
insisted: "I'll go."
Don't get me wrong I did not mean to sound like "dude, i don't want you here". I
was dying
to meet with him and hang out because I myself was dying of boredom and my
visiting family, consisted in meeting them for lunch and dinner and dozing off
to sleep or
watch tv the rest of the day. No internet in my Country.
So there my friend arrived, although I told him to travel light, he came with 12
suitcases. I
had to store some of them in the garage and the rest of them in the attic.
I told my buddy "just keep your everyday change in your room" and still he kept
suitcases. I don't know how he managed to sleep in such a crowded place, but he
did not
complaint, nor he lamented the size of the room or the bad taste my mom had for
furniture, the purple paint on the walls nor the little porcelain Hobo sitting
on the
Now one thing I have to say for my Country: it is gorgeous! We have the
mountains, hills,
woods, the sea, huge sand dunes, 22 miles of shore with sand and rocks (great
places for
scubadiving), maritime pine trees, canals, a couple of lakes, a Castle, Ancient
Ruins from
the Romans, the Greeks and some other folks I never remember the name of. Plus
we have
# 1 pizza in the world, # 1 mozzarella in the world, #1 pastry store in the
world, # 1
mozzarella in the world, #1 gelato in the world and the best Pasta restaurant of
I am not making this up, I costantly see the awards piling up on the walls of
this little
factory, restaurants and gelato stores, year after year....
When I look at all this wonders I can't quite figure out why the rest of the
world wouldn't
move and live right here, and why did I move away on the first place?
Then I remember: it's the people. This country's inhabitants are coarse, rude,
snoopy, gossipy, ignorant, nad overall there's too much money going around (for
we have
the biggest fruits and vegetable market in the world and everybody works there)
but too
little culture and intelligence.
So while I go around with my friend and I show him around, telling him about a
bit of
history of the place (although rather small it has so much history), that not
even the
people who live here know about... I also tell him "See I wasn't born here, but
I think this
Country's gorgeous... it would be better if it weren't populated, though!"
My friend, who doesn't like sweets, is at his fourth gelato cone, could not
resist the rose
and jasmine flavour first, then the liquorice one, then the pistacho and in the
end he
wanted rose again!
While we stroll around I am always on the lookout. There has to be someone who
and like foreign stuff who will recognize him and send the whole place into a
riot: ooooh
an international staaaar!
But we are lucky enough and we go back home where my friend takes his shoes off
make himself at ease and my mom grabs me to the side and complaints: "your weird

chinese friend... and I found him in the kitchen last night, in the middle of
the night,
wearing only and apron making curry"
"first of all he is not chinese and second of all he was hungry... I'll tell him
about the naked
thing but if he were ugly I'd understand... he is not, just feast your eyes
My dad came to interupt us that very moment.
"hey you know, your pal is playing piano, he is pretty good!"
We all moved to the living room where my friend was wonderfully playing my
piano, artisanly made in 1850 by this guy who then became crazy for carving a
paino out
of walnut root is insane!
As I was explaining to my father "of course he is good, you know! When i told
you he is a
star I meant a rockstar!"
"really?" my mother asked "he sings pretty well too"
"mamma, you know that pile of cd's in my room?"
She nodded and I fetch one, then I pointed at my friend.
"Him?" She was quite surprised "And how do you know a rockstar?"
I wondered about for a while but I could not recollect the moment we first met
nor how we
became best friends. I was killed by doubts and desperate as I was i turned to
my best
friend and asked him:
"Ne, Gacchan we are best friends, aren't we?"
He turned to me and smiled.
"Sure we are... in you dreams, Deda, in your dreams!"
And that's when I woke up.

Life is unfair!!!! T____T