16 Feb, Day 37, Beggar’s largesse

I see the same guy begging for money in the same spot several days a week as I walk to the bus stop. I don’t know what he does on his days off because I don’t usually see him there on the weekend. I guess even bums deserve a break. Maybe he distributes his begging among several locations to balance his collections about the city. This brings up a bit of a moral dilemma for me. In one case I feel somewhat guilty for ignoring him day after day, but I really want to do is tell him I’ll give him 10 bucks if he’ll pick up all the trash within 100 yards of my apartment. (I think he could be more efficient than the state of the art roomba.)

The people around here don’t seem to hesitate to toss their filth and cigarette butts on the ground, so I imagine this guy could get a steady stream of work while making more money than begging, and he could help to resolve a problem instead of contributing to it. Although this approach may seem more like treating the symptoms than the problem, I’m optimistic that the greater populace might become more attentive to their trail of trash if they saw poor people that seemed to care more about the city than the average citizen. This may be the catalyst to tip the society into thinking (and acting) more interdependently instead of typical myopia.

Just imagine if all the beggars became the keepers and shepherds of the city: entrusted to keep things clean, and make sure they stay clean. I see model similar to the adopt-a-highway program-- except more personal. They could expand to cleaning spray paint and other eyesores around after the trash is collected. Then later we might even start thinking about our air and water… I can imagine a whole new economy being created where before people were just standing around asking for money. Now how do I initiate this social movement with a contagious mechanism to reach global proportions? This could be the start of my work towards a Nobel prize…!

I paraded up to the bus stop ready to carry on with the day, and look for a way to implement my employment strategy for the other beggars of the city. Along the way I counted no less than 22 expectorations on the sidewalk between my apartment and the bus stop. These slobs don’t even bother to spit out of the walking path.

However, I encountered a different sort of creature loitering around the bus stop for no apparent reason. Here was a small horde of high school students. (Have you ever wondered how we have high school, but not low school?)

I imagine that they couldn’t be up to much good if they were out of school on a Friday morning, but I guess one never knows these days. I guess they’re entitled to have their own social agenda as well. -Probably something that involves defacing public property, or at least leaving more trash at the scene than when they arrived.

One of the highschoolers had a champion mullet. It was truly something to marvel at, even more outrageous than you can find in the dukes of hazard, or anything else I’ve ever seen showcasing the most redneck sectors of American culture. The white trash/pimpstar with oversized aviator glasses and a ridiculous mullet seems to be in vogue around here for mysterious reasons though I suspect it might be some sort of act of rebellion.

I tried to rally to go out on Friday night in Milan in hopes to see (and meet) some of the models here for the Spring fashion shows. I’d planned to meet my friend Emiliano earlier that night, but it was getting late and the place they were meeting would have been hard for me to get to. I called a bunch of people with out finding anyone else interested in going. Bummer! Rather than bust out the violin like last Friday I decided to take a stroll around Monza. First stop was the Vanity Café. It was mostly empty, but despite the warm welcome I got from the waitresses, they didn’t seem interested in socializing much. (Typical.)

I ordered a mojito to stir while I hanging out see if things would pick up. Every mojito I’ve ordered in Italy has been sub-par until tonight. My usual complaint is that the sugar isn’t dissolved and there’s not the right balance of lime. Except tonight wasn’t really made like a Cuban-mojito that I’ve learned to drink in Florida, or a Mexican-mojito that was big in California, but rather some new Italian interpretation on the theme of mint, lime, rum, and sugar. Only they added a healthy dose of angostura bitters and a shot of amaretto. The angostura stirred up halcyon memories of canoeing at Club Bianco, and I thought the amaretto added a nice touch as well.

Feeling bored, I left and strolled down to the Irish pub where I had a good time 2 weeks ago. Tonight was karaoke night! I ducked thought the doors to find a couple of (cute) Italians trying to sing American classics along with other Italian songs. This music was less nostalgic and more stimulating than the angostura, and I soon found myself tapping my foot along with the show. However it was hard to really get involved because I hardly knew any of the songs. I contemplated asking to sing but overwhelming evidence from the left-brain kept me planted securely in my chair. I think this place has some potential to be a great time with the right mix of people.

I went home by midnight so I could get up early to go snowboarding with my new American friend, Miguel.