Tag Archives: Outside Italy

Didn’t she almost have it all?

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When one has potential it always seems such a shame when the potential doesn’t materialise. Worse still, when it’s your own fault.

I’ve seen her before at, what I would say, was the peak of her career but actually near the beginning. For me the first two albums were the best and it was steadily downhill from there.

When I saw her I hated the fact that she acted like a diva. It seemed that 10 minutes of song were followed by 20 minutes of nothing – whilst she went off to get changed into yet another frock, whilst we were entertained (or, rather bored to tears) by some dancers or some music. She annoyed the hell out of me because we had tickets to see her and I wanted to hear her sing not see what pretty dresses she had in her wardrobe.

But, there was no doubt, the voice was tremendous, the songs superb (I just wanted there to be more of them).

But it was with some trepidation that I went last night to the Milan Forum at Assago to see her on her ‘come back’ tour.

I’d read some reviews (particularly those of Birmingham in the UK and some in Australia) and watched some clips on YouTube from the recent tour. Ah well, I thought, perhaps now that she’s been doing the tour for a while and got rid of the ‘bugs’, it will be a lot better.

But I wasn’t really too hopeful.

The first couple of songs were from the new album. I don’t know them. OK, so her voice didn’t seem perfect but it was OK, as far as I could tell. Then a couple more.

The voice cracked in places. The same sort of ‘crack’ that happens when a boy’s voice is changing. Then she seemed to beg. Begging to be liked is never a good thing and this is what it seemed like. During the whole thing references were made to the fact that she was only human, that she hoped that her voice would be OK. She said something about there being a cold draught from one side of the stage and that, as any Diva would tell you (which made me almost laugh out loud – her? A Diva??), was a difficult thing – comparing herself to Aretha Frankly and Dione Warwick! WTF?

Then she went off. We were ‘treated’ to her brother making some dreadful attempt to sing one of her songs. I hardly recognised it. There was some boring dancing. We waited.

She reappeared in some sparkling, golden, diva-style dress with a fur coat over the top (to stop the draught, I suppose). She looked old and fat – but fat because she was bloated not fat that comes to us all with age. She looked tired. She sweated a lot (and I mean A LOT).

And then she sang some songs. It was as if the almost acceptable woman had gone backstage and changed outfit but also changed into a different person. It was absolutely dreadful.

It sounded more like a really poor Ertha Kitt – at least Ertha could hold a tune!

OK so, the most well known song wasn’t as bad as the ones I had seen on YouTube but, still, the range has gone and the voice did crack in one place.

It was like watching a train wreck happening in slow motion. At one point, as she went to sit on a high chair, it seemed as if she was going to topple over backwards! She seemed older and, to be honest, it seemed as if she had had several lines of coke whilst she had been backstage.

There were occasional flashes of what she was. Some parts of some songs, filled with the emotional power she became famous for; held in tune.

But this was sad. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see her collapse on stage and to be told later that she had died. It was like everyone was there to see her very last performance.

The crowd went wild at many parts. But this was not because she was good. This was because of what she had been and the fact that they were fans. I am not a real fan. I could hear how dreadful it was. Quite a number of people started leaving before the end – maybe they had other reasons to leave.

I shook my head as I watched her; I squirmed inside for the sight of a once-great singer singing out-of tune; I felt sorry for her and for what she should have been but, now, would never be, even if she did ‘clean herself up’.

Towards the end was this one below – but by then it was apparent that she couldn’t sing any more. I prefer to remember her as she was. This song was the one that used to get me excited about going out – going out to a club and dancing – curbing my natural shyness.

Whitney Houston could have been great by now. Not, perhaps, in the same way as Barbara Streisand but great, nonetheless. Instead, it would have been better for her not to have performed. If I had paid the €180 it cost to sit in the first few rows, I would have been more than disappointed.

But it was sad to see and hear. And, in spite of the cheering and ovation, I wonder how many of these people would go back to see her again?

Such a shame. This song of hers seems to sum it up.

Update: Of course, within a couple of years she was dead and so, I saw her twice. I prefer to remember the first time.

Why do they hound those MPs who tell the truth?

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Let me say, for the record, that I do not vote any more. I see no point. My one vote will not elect the people I want and, anyway, they aren’t much better than a bunch of scumbags.

After all, they never tell the truth – they tell you (like any good salesman) what you want to hear so that you will vote for them. I suspect that, given the amount of money the UK Government had to ‘create’ to save themselves and the banks from the crisis, that, in order to pay back that created money, they will need to make severe cuts in expenditure and increase taxes. But none of them actually tell you that. Not even the people that I would vote for if, for a moment, I thought they were worth the effort.

So, this story made me stop and think for a moment.

It goes like this:- Man who is (and would still be, if he gets the votes) the Prime Minister meets normal old lady who reads the Daily Star or some similar paper (I would say the Daily Mail – but we know they’re all crazy right-wing fascists). Normal old lady, brought up in a normal working class environment, who knows bugger all about the world at large, does as her parents undoubtedly did and blames those bloody foreigners for being the cause of all problems in her neck of the woods (I should say here that, apart from the piece I read, I don’t know the full details of their conversation). Current Prime Minister says all the right things to her as one would expect from a sleazy (sorry, normal) politician and everyone goes away happy.

Except, since this was a set-up anyway, he’s not happy that they set him up with some bigoted old lady like that and says so, on microphone, which he didn’t take off! He calls her bigoted. Press have a field day.

For one moment, it made me think that, perhaps, I should register for a vote and vote for him as he is probably the only politician who has actually spoken his mind and spoken the truth. Unfortunately:

a) it was an unguarded moment and he now apologises for calling a bigoted old lady ‘bigoted';

b) he apologised for it later whereas really he should have stuck by it (for it was true) and

c) he helped to bring about this crisis in the first place and then, when he could have done something radical and noble (like fixing the banks and getting rid of this illusion that we can all get richer even as the resources decline) he panders to the big banking industry and now we are back to where we were – i.e. no change.

Anyway, he’s Labour and I would never vote for them. I always think of Animal Farm when I think of Labour politicians.

But I admire the fact, for once, I heard a truth being spoken by a politician. Can’t wait until we can mind-read. It’ll save so much shit being spoken and leave most politicians without a job except perhaps as furniture salesmen.

In the event that a volcano erupts, please panic!

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When I was young, so less than half a century ago, we went abroad once. I was 14. Actually, that’s not entirely true. When I was about 5, my parents took me and my sister to Guernsey. I remember it because we had a thing called ‘High Tea’ about 5 p.m. This was for kids only and was something like beans on toast. I guess we didn’t have ‘Dinner’ later but I don’t really remember.

Anyway, I digress. Our holiday, when I was 14, involved a caravan trip. My parents reckoned (and they were right) that this would be the last holiday that we would go on as a ‘family’.

The six of us, with the caravan trailing behind us, overloaded with the awning in which the kids would sleep, made our way to Portsmouth (or maybe Weymouth) on the south coast and then, by ferry to France. We then motored through France to the south west, somewhere near Bordeaux.

It was before package holidays took off.

Before that, when I was about 10 or 12, I remember my father going to the USA on a business trip. I remember it because he brought back a gonk for each of us kids

Gonk

and a pair of bright purple loons for me!

Loons - but not mine

Which I loved, by the way. And, anyway, no one in the backwater of Hereford had them, fashion not quite having reached Hereford by then (has it now?).

Certainly, when we went to Guernsey, we flew. This must have been very expensive as this was the days before package holidays and easy air travel. It was all more ‘exclusive’ then. a little bit special.

How different is it now? Now, we think nothing of hopping on a plane to go to the other side of the world. In fact, we consider air travel first when we think of going abroad – just like we shall be going to the UK at the end of July. It never even crossed my mind to go by rail or coach or any other means. It was just a matter of searching for the cheapest flight.

Which, of course, leads us to now. Now, with a volcano erupting and throwing ash everywhere. How very inconsiderate it is?

I feel sorry for the people ‘stranded’ far away from home. I know some that are. It is difficult. However, it is also an adventure! The adventure being to find another way home or to find something to do or somewhere to sleep or eke out savings or credit cards. It could be fun, if you put your mind to it.

I also feel sorry for those whose businesses rely on people being able to fly in and out of any country they wish – hotels, restaurants, the general hospitality industry. Then are those flower sellers in Nigeria (isn’t that close to some countries where people are currently close to starvation?) having to throw away all the flowers because they can’t fly them to Europe. Then, of course, there are the providers of exotic, perishable goods – with warnings that the shops will soon experience shortages (I’m sure it won’t make much of a dent in Tesco’s record profits for next year). Yes, all these people whose lives and businesses are affected – it’s really dreadful for them.

But, those of you who do read my blog often enough will know there’s always a ‘but’, lets’ take a little step back from this.

No one actually MADE these people go abroad for their holiday. If you have a business, think how it was done back in the 60s – one rarely flew abroad for business then, did one? So, if you ARE stranded, before getting angry that no one has yet come to save you, think, perhaps about why you are there and get on with getting back. There are ways. They still have ships plying between New York and the UK, for example! And, apparently, you can book from (anywhere) on board some freighter ships!

If you’re stuck in the EU or the USA, remember these are civilised countries and there will be help available, if you look hard enough. If you’re stuck in some shit-hole, please try to remember that you CHOSE to go there. If it’s not ‘civilised’ – well, what was the point in going there if all you were going to do was stay in a four-star hotel and sip drinks on the terrace?

And then there is the coincidental loss of business.  I do feel sorry for the Nigerian ‘farmers’ forced to throw away all those exotic flowers they grow so that (said in voice using received pronunciation – i.e. like what the Queen speaks) ‘one can have a rather glorious flower arrangement for one’s table’ – but I just can’t quite get my head round the fact that, on the same continent, there are people dying for want of food!

No, there’s something wrong somewhere, for certain.

To be honest, our little experience was all rather fun and interesting – but, then, it wasn’t me with the problem – I was just helping. And, as I write this, I see that flights are, again, coming in to Malpensa and Linate and, in fact, flying all over Europe!

But the things I have written above was brought about because people are starting to get angry, it would seem. Angry? Are you joking? 40 or 50 years ago only the rich would be in this position. Now everyone is at it but still they expect it to be ‘handled’ by the government. They expect that they shouldn’t be ‘ripped off’. The world is a crazy, crazy place.

But I kept thinking about the air safety drill, given on board aircraft before you take off. You know?

In the event of a loss of cabin pressure, masks like this one will come down from the panel above your head.

In the event of us landing on water, you will find the lifebelt under your seat.

In the event that a volcano erupts, please panic!

>p.s. I just want to add that there are some people for whom I feel genuinely sorry. Not everyone has a credit card to enable them to get home or family or friends who will help. It’s just the people that get so angry about it all and I keep on thinking – but no one actually MADE you go there in the first place!

Gay – the new ‘black’

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First, there was Mine Vaganti (Loose Cannons is the English title but the direct translation, apparently, is Wandering mines (as in sea mines used in war)).  Then there was some famous latin-pop singer.  It seems there’s a lot of it about!

Then there are the discussions about it.  First the Italians talking about the film.  The reaction, in general, is that it is a ‘nice’ film although, if the Italians talking about it had three children and the two male children were both gay, I’m really not sure how that would really go down.

And then there are the discussions about the famous latin-pop star.  They basically fall into two categories.  There is the ‘who cares – his music was crap’ to the ‘who cares in 2010′ and then there is the ‘what a surprise (not)’ to the ‘oh look, he has a biography to promote’.

Being gay has never been so ordinary nor so popular!  I guess I must also be a very fortunate homosexual too, then?  Actually, not really.  I’m a very fortunate guy, certainly.  But being gay has absolutely nothing to do with it

But I do get a little disheartened by it all.  So let’s get some things straight (so to speak).

Being gay – maybe it shouldn’t make a difference and, in many ways it doesn’t but in some ways it really does make a difference and it does mean that you have to consider every action, every word spoken, etc.

I regularly (here) see couples embracing.  In fact, for me, being British, it can be downright embarrassing on the basis that they seem only a small step from having full public sex!  But, imagine walking down the street and seeing two men or two boys doing the same thing.  It’s OK, or not?  I’m thinking that, however open-minded you may be, it may not be completely OK.  Even I would be more embarrassed than I already am!

The coming out.  There’s no right time.  Of course, there should be no need to ‘come out’ at all, you may say.  But, especially if you’re straight-acting, the automatic assumption is that you’re straight.  So, women may make passes at you; colleagues at work will talk about a beautiful women in the context of you being interested, etc.  I have no problem with women making passes at me.  It is, after all, very flattering.  However, I do feel that it would be unfair if I let them continue when there’s no chance of it going any further, don’t you?  And, so, there IS a need to come out, unfortunately. And although it’s not necessary, strictly speaking, I do really get fed up with people make lewd comments to me about females and expecting me to react in a ‘blokish’ way and, so, would love to ‘come out’ to them. I noticed that, with people who know, there are no comments about women in that way – at least not in my company.

The Family. OK so this is, probably, the hardest of them all. It doesn’t really matter how difficult it is or isn’t to come out to your friends or in the workplace – but coming out to your family is an entirely different thing. The problem here is that, however, relaxed and open-minded they may all seem (and for certain mine weren’t so I knew what the reaction would be before it ever happened), it’s an entirely different ball-game when it’s your son/brother/cousin/father/uncle etc. Even then most open of people can, deep down, harbour those prejudices that we are ‘taught’ when young. And, of course, it’s worse when it’s one of ‘your own’.

I mean, how can you face the outside world? What explaining you’ll have to do!

And, just in case you think that, just because I write all this here I am one of those people who are ‘out’ well, yes, to some degree. But not everyone knows at work and, having gone through all the crap between the ages of 18 and 25, I just can’t be bothered to go through it all again – except I find myself having to do so here, in this country where the film Mine Vaganti rings true as it would have done in the UK about 20-odd years ago!

So, although everyone ‘knew’ about Ricky, and although I don’t have any particular feeling about him (gay or not), I can feel the slightest bit sorry for him. Whether he did it now or later; whether it was for the book, to boost his flagging career or none of those (the timing would always be wrong for some people); whatever the reason, we shall never really know the reasons why he kept it secret for so long (what pressures he was under to ‘keep it all under wraps) or why he decided to come out now (maybe writing the book and seeing how his life to date was built on lies). At least he has come out and now we can get on with loving or hating his music and he can get on with his life.

Sometimes I get confused

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There’s another post that I had part-written that should precede this but, then, that’s the way the blog goes.

Last night I was tired (see next post, probably) but I went round to his place anyway.  He was watching a TV spectacular on Mina.

Actually, on that note, I must say how amusing I find it with some Italians when they mention some famous singer here and when you say you’ve never heard of them they can’t quite believe it!  They seem to think that, if some person has had numerous hits in Italy, then the whole world should know.  In the case of Mina, the first time F mentioned her and I said I’d never heard of her he was aghast.

‘But’, he said, ‘she was mentioned by [insert internationally famous singer here] and [insert another internationally famous singer here] said she was the best singer in the world’.

It’s difficult to explain that, if they are really, really lucky, they might have had one hit in the UK or USA, if they only sing in Italian.  Anyway, it was Mina’s birthday a day or so ago and hence the TV spectacular.

His TV is in the bedroom so I went and lay on the bed with him.  He seemed so pleased to see me, kissing me and hugging me.  Later, when I got into bed (and he did too) he cuddled me and kissed my back. Not that we can do that the other way around.  And, anyway, he was still watching the special.

I went to sleep, no dreams and only waking once for a short time.  Today he called me as he was booking the flights for the wedding.  He likes to ‘take charge’.

I thought he was just doing this wedding thing to keep me happy but he seemed really happy about it.  And we get to go to the UK.  I thought he wasn’t so keen on the whole thing and certainly not when it was going to be for almost a week but then, suddenly and without notice, he surprises me by actually booking the flights!

I guess I should be happy and I am but there is this thing that I’m never quite sure if he feels the same way; if we really are together.  Like last night when he seemed so very pleased to see me and, yet, if I were to make the move first he would say ‘Not now’ or ‘I’m too hot’ or something to make me stop.

Yes, sometimes I get confused.

How to find a new job

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Here, in Italy, it seems to be all about people you know.  Certainly, A, who is currently looking for a new job, finds it much more difficult because his family are not from this area and his network of people is smaller.  Therefore, his search is made more difficult.

In the UK, of course, it doesn’t work like that.  Or, does it?

Certainly for the more menial of jobs, the lower end, the starting, it may not work like that.  Higher up, except for public office, it probably does, more or less.

So, if I was to go back to the UK and start to look for a job, almost certainly, the first thing I would do is tell all my friends in the hope that, one of them would know someone who was looking for someone like me.  For someone who is looking for a very well paid job in the private sector it is exceedingly difficult.

If you are currently in a position but know that, soon, you will be, in effect, redundant you need to make discreet enquiries.

And, should you be lucky enough to have an informal discussion with the potential new employer, it is, of course, important to sell your skills and abilities and bring your best attributes forward.  So, if you have a particular skill that is very relevant to the job in question, you would try to show the potential employer how your skill is better than anyone else’s.

This becomes more difficult if you are talking about a soft skill and you will be a consultant.

If I were going to an English company, trying to tell them how my Italian experience could help them, for example, I might say that my Italian is pretty good.  I might also tell them how I have a number of contacts in the field in which they were working and how I might call those contacts to help me to help the new company to gain more business and more market share or, if they were looking for suppliers, how I could get special prices or a particularly good service or something.

Of course, all this would be ‘off the record’.  And, to be honest, I could not come with guarantees – but I wouldn’t be telling them that – and, anyway, they should know that.  I would only be affecting introductions to the people I know.  It would then be up to them to make those contacts work, to sell the company (although, of course, I would help with that).

What I wouldn’t do is to wait until I was redundant and then try and hawk my round potential employers.  That would be madness.  And, if I didn’t find a job quickly, the contact list may go a little cold.  No, far better to look for a job whilst you are still employed in the old job.

It all seems very reasonable, yes?

Then why, I ask, is it quite OK for everyone to do that type of thing except politicians?  Politicians, let’s be honest here, live in an unreal world and invariably have very little real-world skill except the ability to speak and convince people of their ideas.  They are, in fact, like salesmen.  Knowing nothing of real value except, perhaps, they do have a lot of mates in places of power and influence.

When they become unemployed, what the hell do they do for a job?  And certainly, a job that will pay them the sort of salary they and their families are used to.

And this latest craze for setting up a ‘sting’ to trap current politicians into saying things we would rather they didn’t – like, I’ve got a lot of good mates in a position to, maybe, help you with government contracts, etc. – is really out of order.

We expect them to behave like angels whilst in office (which is unrealistic anyway, since they are only human beings) but to expect them to be perfect once they know they will be leaving and to NOT use their contacts to help them with their ‘next life’ seems more than unreasonable but completely stupid.

I’m not a fan of politicians.  The days of altruistic men and women, going in to the government to make this world a better place seem long gone (although, probably, it was never thus).  They seem a more sleazy, corrupt bunch of people than one finds outside their crazy world but this latest attempt to ‘out’ them seems unjust and simply a media trick to sell more newspapers or get more TV viewers.

You know, there’s those sayings about throwing stones and glass houses and things.  I wonder when this will all come back to haunt the people doing the throwing?

It doesn’t mean a thing

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19/03/10

This is a ‘no smoking’ country for sure. Probably even worse than the UK.

The upside being that I have smoked far less cigarettes than normal. Even, at one time I found myself not needing one! And that was after several hours of not having one!!

That doesn’t mean I shall be giving up soon though. Just that, for that moment, it did cross my mind.

The Show

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19/03/10

I wish I could feel differently but I can’t. I hate being on customer site. It’s like I have to put on a show – it’s like being on stage and I don’t actually relax at all.

As a result I am tired; exhausted. Even with my colleagues I feel it is a show.

Of course, it doesn’t help that my private life remains so private. But that’s my choice really.

Customers are even worse from that point of view. They talk about their family, their houses, their vacations; I don’t. It’s not because I am fearful of letting something slip because I don’t really care that much, it’s just that it makes it all such hard work.

So I feel more alone and the show becomes a 24 hour thing for however many days it is. Not that most people would care one way or another but, you know ……

Still today is the last day. Tomorrow there is only the flight back and then I am free. I am free and able to be with the man I love and the dogs.

I am so looking forward to that.

Bored

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18/03/10

I am, not to put too fine a point on it, bored to f*?!.

I knew it would be so. I watch the engineers talking and working but am also amazed by the amount of them that are also standing or sitting around doing very little.

We seem to have to wait for everything. Always. I hate being in this situation – where you must wait for someone else to do something. And this is my job now. I can’t actually do anything at all.

Only half a day has gone/passed. So only a quarter through. There has to be more to life than this and, of course, there is. Meanwhile, at least F enjoys his even if he works long hours.