Italy is a place where retirement is welcome

But it is rare for [Italians] to view work as anything but a necessary evil. A survey commissioned by the weekly newsmagazine Panorama in 2006 found that two-thirds of Italians would give up their work if they could be guaranteed the relatively modest sum of € 5,000 a month.

In the same way, retirement is usually seen as entirely positive. There seems to be none of the fretting that goes on in Anglo-Saxon societies about how to cope with a loss of identity.

I have known plenty of Italians who have gone into retirement, and sometimes I have bumped into them in the street or when they have made a return visit to the offices where they worked. Not once have I heard any of them express anything but unmitigated delight at no longer having a job.

Silvio Berlusconi was still prime minister at the age of seventy-five. Mario Monti, who replaced Berlusconi in 2011, took over as head of government when he was sixty-eight. His cabinet, which was brought in as a new broom that would sweep clean and introduce wide-ranging reforms, had the highest average age of any in the European Union at the time.

And after the election that followed the fall of Monti’s government, the new parliament reelected a president, Giorgio Napolitano, who was eighty-seven. For truly untrammeled “gray power,” however, nothing compares with the universities. A study published as Monti and his ministers were settling in behind their highly polished desks found that the average age of Italy’s professors was sixty-three and that many were still clinging to their positions and the vast patronage they were afforded when they were well over seventy. Their average age was the highest anywhere.

It means that young Italians are not just imbibing the theories and attitudes of the previous generation, which is natural, but of the one before that, and in extreme cases even the one before that. The appointment of two younger prime ministers, Enrico Letta in 2013 and Matteo Renzi in 2014, has led to a rejuvenation at the highest levels of government. Renzi became Italy’s youngest ever prime minister at the age of just thirty-nine. And he set about naming a cabinet that included a party colleague who was only thirty-three at the time of her appointment.

But it remained to be seen whether the process would extend to other areas of Italian life, and particularly higher education. The role played by the elderly in the formation of Italy’s future elite continued to represent a formidable obstacle to innovation, modernization and the rethinking of established ideas. This may have some link to the enthusiasm with which so many young Italians embrace the culture of their parents. Perhaps the most striking example of this is to be found in the area of rock music: currently the ages of three of the most popular singers are fifty-two, fifty-six and sixty. Aging rock stars have kept going.


Hooper, John. The Italians, Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

 

Call me crazy, but…

do you find it entertaining, as I do, that in Florence there is at least one shop that sells paint, hardware and perfume?!

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This great shop is on Borgo Santi Apostli, one of my favorite antique streets in Florence.  When I walk along the road, I think crazy stuff like “Dante walked this street a few centuries ago” and I feel amazingly fortunate to be living my dream.

But,  then I encounter a store like this and just the concept of a shop that sells hardware and perfume makes me joyful!  Would Dante have found it funny?

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Things I’ve learned

…in the past 18 or so months.  As anybody who reads my blog knows, it is not a how-to blog.  There are many expats living in Italy who blog about the ins and outs of living here.  I usually avoid the subject, but I’m in the process of moving from what is called a transitory lease to a long-term lease, which could involve a stay of up to 8 years or longer.

To say it has been a learning process would be like saying a a flower seed will grow a flower.  It can happen, but it might not depending on infinite variables. I’m not sure that is a good example, but my brain is currently cooked.

So, it set me to thinking about the many small things that go on here, such as waiting in line this morning to buy your milk, eggs and bread (which you thought would be a quick trip, but it isn’t because there are 10+ people in line before you. You have the luck to be behind an older signora who has 2x the normal amount of shopping in her cart and she keeps dropping pieces of paper that she can’t bend over far enough to retrieve and so you have to do it):

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Or the fact that you thought your were covered for the furniture delivery that was set up for this morning.  The doorman works during the hours you planned the delivery and he knew about the delivery and so you didn’t worry.

That is, until you got several angry phone calls in Italian from the delivery man who couldn’t get into the building.  So you sent an SOS text to the landlord who you happened to know was in your apartment at that moment.  The delivery man got in, in the end, and you received this text from the landlord:

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There are more, many more, and I may be writing about them soon.  But right now I am taking some Advil and taking a nap in my old short-term but beautiful apartment. :-)

 

I’m moving!

Again!  Crazy amount of moving over the past 18 months, but each move gets me closer to Nirvana.  Here’s my new neighborhood, a tree-lined avenue along Florence’s overlooked river, il Mugnone.

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I am moving from my current beautiful apartment high above Florence near the Ponte Vecchio.  I will miss the medieval tower that I have as a next-door neighbor.

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And my views of Brunellechi’s done and Giotto’s bell tower, a view that inspires me every hour of every day and night:

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But, oh, what I’ll gain!  More space, for sure, and a sense of Italian community that is missing in the city center with its inundations of tourists. I only recently discovered this elegant neighborhood, which reminds me a little bit of Parisian avenues, and am delighted to be moving onto via XX Settembre where, from my new terrace, I can gaze at the wide open sky above Florence as well as green treetops and a flowing river.  A lucky tradeoff for me!

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Chocolates and Valentines

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For a fun history of how chocolate became a Valentine’s treat, see this article:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/retropolis/wp/2018/02/14/we-owe-our-sinful-valentines-day-chocolates-to-the-prudish-self-denying-cadburys/?hpid=hp_hp-more-top-stories-2_retro-valentinesday-746am%3Ahomepage%2Fstory&utm_term=.ccf5c5b84d4b 

And for a terrific history of the paper Valentines, see the New York Times: