(Piacenza) Take 26: "Quo Vadis?"

Take 26: "Quo Vadis?"


Yo Amici! (friends) Having been of late, formally introduced to the Countessa PonteOlio-Olio at her "citta-della Castella" formal dance...in celebration of the 70th anniversary of when Ernest Hemmingway once - here - sojourned and sowed his wild oats, enjoyed some "fly-fishing", etc., I? -on being presented to the Countessa's father, "IL BARONE di PonteOlio-Olio" am subsequently officially engaged, soon to be married - to the Countessa... have 7 kids - which apparently takes about 7 years to accomplish - send the little blighters off to (schools:) Rodean or Eton, then Oxford or Cambridge (to complete their great British education/induction into formal Homosexuality) and ON their Gay return, whilst I? -being then, Lord Borgo (Il Conte di PonteOlio-Olio) grow fat on my estate's pastures, vineyards & tenant's rents...are THEN expected to get them (the 7 kids) suitably employed with such illustrious THIEVES as Lloyds Babk, Credit Lyonaise or the more humble, yet equally scavenger-mongering ilk of Barclays or Deutsche Bank....
...am, nevertheless, having second thoughts about putting the latter part of my life out to the particular pasture?

A fittingly prestigious ending, to an otherwise ignoble career; to be sure. Nice Castle, n'all. Italy, of course. It'll do.

The gal? (the Countessa, my intended) Pretty cute. Medium height. She's cool enough, though she IS quite obsessive about some obscure UK Indie band called Lloyd Cole & the Commotions!

The old man? THEE Barone/Count. A widower. He's a jovial old boy with a penchant for English Tweeds, Plus-4 pantalones, hunting dogs, shot guns...and has a kick-butt wine cellar; his Barolo's being my personal favorites.

Alas!... And "Salutte, mio amici!" I do NOT think this is where I am going, or indeed - call me an idiot! - where I WANT to go....and so, taking an early morning, discreet departure, I take my leave and proceed briskly from PonteOlio-Olio (castle and town) down the foothills towards the (river) Po valley plain. An expansive scene of gentle rusticity under a clear December bright sky.

"QUO VADIS?" tremors a voice from up on high, whilst I am trying to hitch a ride North to Piacenza.

"Quo vadis, dude?" I reply, then after taking a slug from a liberated bottle of the Barone's Barolo: "Quo vadis Rock & Roll!"

Salutte!


c 2011/dave delacroix/Lord Borgo/Piacenza/Italy/Somebody lend me $20!...:)