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March 28, 2007

Venetian paperchase

Air conditioning is kinda nice to have here and we thought that this summer we would install AC in our two office rooms and our bedroom. This would involve a single unit outside on the roof or a wall, and two or three internal units, connected to the external one by narrow metal hoses conveying some kind of coolant.

We got four estimates (preventivi) and we decided it was probably do-able. I told the administrator of the condominium about the plans as we felt he should be aware. It went to the condo assembly and all tenants said okay (after they asked where the outdoor unit would be located to ensure it would have no effect upon their lives). At that meeting the administrator, Dott. Campajola, told me I had to have the approval of Venice's Soprintendenza dei Beni Archittetonici, headquartered in the Doge's Palace.

Oh-oh, I thought, here we go. Our building was built in 1502 and, therefore, is vincolato, chained, i.e., no changes, improvements, defacings, etc.  without the Soprintendenza's permission.

I went to the Doge's Palace and was told that that section was available 3 mornings per week with an appointment. I had no appointment, but I was smart enough to wear a suit and tie and carry  a briefcase and when I said I just needed a form, the reception person allowed me up. Sloppy! Ties still carry weight here since so few people wear them. And indeed I got my information sheet which explained the various separate documents which had to be submitted by my architect to the soprintendenza to install an air conditioner.

The items required:

Document 1: a form (payment of 15.62) with all names, addresses, phones, emails of people involved.

Document 2: extract of the official city plan showing all buildings nearby, boundaries, etc. Plan            obtainable from city land registry office open Monday mornings 9-12, and Wednesday afternoons 2-5.              

Document 3: drawing of the proposed work, location on the plan, etc, by the architect hired (yes, that's right, an architect for an airconditioner and you need one who especially knows the contacts to grease the skids). (3 copies)

Document 4: Descriptions and technical specifications of equipment involved. (3 copies)                  

Document 5: Details of all the installation procedures, affixing to wall, transport to the roof, access, equipment required, etc.

Document 6: Photograph of the designated area of installation (A4 size) dated and signed by owner and architect.

In addition to the above which goes to the Sovrintendenza, a copy must go to the Commune of Venezia at Campo Manin, attention of the tecnici for the Dorsoduro area.

In retrospect, I should not have advised the administrator of the condo of our plans and should have gone ahead and done the work. This is a common happenstance in Italy. Do something first, ask permission later. When that happens, the thing done is called "abusivo". 75% of the time the authorities never find out. When they do, often when an enemy of yours "denounces" you, you get an ex-post facto permission (called a "condono") and pay a minor fine.

It has become clear that an architect is required here to get the proper paperwork and forms and drawings into the correct hands in a timely fashion. The alternative is that we go alone into that nightmarish world of bureaucrats and I, with my 3rd rate Italian.   

By now the companies from whom we obtained estimates have given up on us; and in August no one works in Italy. Thinking a new air conditioner for late October sounds about right. Sometime in between the architects will go on strike.

Finally, let's be joyful as Pascha is almost here, Christ is almost Risen! As the Cherubic Hymn goes, "put aside all earthly care that we may receive the King of all..."  Buona Pasqua!

       

March 19, 2007

St Patrick in Venice

At Casa Fitzpatrick-Graham this past Saturday (17 March) we hosted a notable green event (not for some silly tree-huggers):  St. Patrick's Day dinner for various Irish we know here. Attendees had names such as Fitzgerald (Joan), O'Halloran (Francis & Liesl), Leckie (Geoffrey and Elizabeth) plus the hosts (Howard Fitzpatrick and Laurie Fitzpatrick Graham Riley). I would like to think that some other ex-pats here in Venice also had a festa, but I have some doubts.   

All were asked to contribute a reading or similar in honour of Holy Catholic Ireland. House decorated with orange, white and green flowers, of course. Bogus shamrocks on the table (I asked my daughter to send some live shamrocks but she reported thay are available only the day or two before 17 March, which was too late for us).

Evening began with some Irish whiskey, from above and below the border. Geoff, telling us his family were Ulstermen, self-catered with a bottle of Bushmills (northern origin) whereas we southerners stayed loyal to Jameson.  Of course, prosecco was on offer to those who have gone native but it was properly nationalised with green food dye donated by diva Liesl.

Instead of our usual grace, Laurie recited part of St Patrick's Breastplate:

Christ to shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me abundance of reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

Amen. Starter was mazzancolle (huge prawns sauteed in oil and Irish (Republic) whisky) served on a green bed. Then Irish beef stew (Lenten dispensation received) cooked in Guinness with a lovely pastry crust, a side of the mandatory colcannon, and finally a beautiful dessert concocted by author/cook Fitzpatrick-Graham which was comprised of a crumbled dark, dark chocolate cake, halved cherries which had been marinated in sugar and grappa, and topped with cream and greek yogurt, all of which was assembled in a plain glass cocktail-shaped bowl so the result looked like a foaming glass of Guinness.   

Our post-prandial readings commenced. Geoffrey read from his favourite handkerchief upon which are printed many Oscar Wilde aphorisms. Very funny, Oscar. Joan read a poem by her poet friend Desmond O'Grady about going home again after decades away. I recited "Innisfree" by Yeats, also a poem about longing and about exile. Francis, aka Frank, provided us with an Irish toast and Liesl sang a lovely Irish air while at the piano. Laurie did another Yeats, "September 1913", and Liz (nee O'Shaughnessy) read James Joyce's poem "Gas from a Burner" which is a funny diatribe against printers in his Ireland. I have inserted it at the end of this blog.

Late night, great fun, lots of "slainte"s. I'll bet my daughters and their mates who all live in Dublin did not have such an evening. So there!

And so to bed.

  Gas_burner_joyce_2

March 12, 2007

La primavera è arrivata!

Yep, spring has indeed arrived: spritzes in the campi, saps are running (over the bridges and down the Zattere), the few trees in Venice are already green, students on school trips are pretending to absorb some culture, and we have replanted our terrace and it's almost ready for our evening aperitivi outside. Great time to live in Venice. 

My good friend Frank O'Halloran invited me to play basketball with him. He's almost 50 and not in great shape, and I am 60 and likewise physically out of condition. We both fancy ourselves hotshots at BBall but I bowed out as I know how one can throw caution to the wind in such moments of pretending one is 22 years old. I do not need a broken ankle this spring.

Plaque

Five years ago, in the rain, I ran for a waterbus, slipped on the wet, wooden boat landing and completely ripped apart my knee. Had the thrill of riding in a water ambulance as it bounced (ouch!) to the ospedale. Surgery, no walking for 3 months, no kneeling for six months, no sports for a year. No basketball ever again, sigh. Can play tennis, though. (By the way, if you are at the S Toma vaporetto stop, you can see a brass plaque commemorating my fall. To the left of the ticket office, under a railing. "In latin, Howard fell here six days before the ides of April, 2002." )

Politics in Italy is very interesting. The left-wing Prodi government which barely survived a few weeks ago (thanks to a turncoat centrist senator) is in doo-doo again. On the Prodi agenda is a commitment to legalising civil unions without marriage, for both heterosexuals and homosexuals. It is a sensitive issue as many in Prodi's coalition are pro-Church and view the proposed law as weakening the family and are horrified of legitimising homosexual civil unions. There was a very large demonstration in Rome this past Saturday to support the proposed law. Unfortunately for Prodi three of his ministers attended it. The demonstration was taken over by the gay activist group (ARCIGAY) and the demonstration turned into a gay anti-Church, anti-Catholic rant, with the usual outrages. The Prime Minister Prodi did not, for some reason, proscribe his ministers from attending and when he saw three ministers there, he was "perplexed". The justice minister, Mr Mastella, is an active Catholic and was more than perplexed, he was furious that the ministers lent credence to what he considered a zoo. He is very displeased and should he and his Catholic party, Udeur, remain displeased the coalition (see my blog of 3 weeks ago) could be toast and there will be a new election. You gotta admire the lubricious and protean qualities of Italian politics. Stay tuned.

All my customers are very nice and also quite interesting. This past week, I had 3 people from Virginia. I was told to meet Rosemary, Katherine, and Cecil between the pillars in S Marco Square. It was cold so I hid in a nearby bar keeping my eye on things until they arrived. I saw three women arrive and stand around for a few minutes. Then I saw that one had a cane and my instructions told me that one of the ladies had a cane. So I aproached them and, sure enough, it was my party..."Where's Cecil?" I asked. "That's me", one said. So, memo to file, Cecil is a woman's name in Virginia. They were terrific and we had a good time.       

Dinner tonight with Mario (a Venetian tour guide) and Lynn Lazzarini and with Lesley and Carl Powell, NC residents who love Venezia. Saturday it's a St Patrick's party here, wear green please.

   

 

 

March 07, 2007

Venice report...

The country has settled down after the government, which lost its majority in the Senate, re-formed a new government and it has now survived 2 weeks. The main glue holding it together is the horrible idea, in their opinion, of the Right being in power again for another 8 years. The communists, socialists, greens and other radicals, for a change, kept their eyes on the larger picture. Still, don't hold your breath. If an election were held today, polls indicate a conservative bulge of 8%.

The Italian foreign minister is still angry at America for refusing to allow the extradition of the US soldier who shot and killed an Italian agent (Nicola Calipari) in Baghdad as his Toyota was injudiciously racing at 50 mph (according to satellite photos) toward an armed US military checkpoint. No advance notice was given that Calipari would be coming and the soldier was simply doing his duty shooting at a hostile vehicle. An Italian court has indicted the soldier for murder, yes, murder. Puleeeeze!

On a more local note, the city of Venice survived a quieter Carnevale and spring is here. Gelato shops have re-opened, cafes in the squares are busy, the sun is mostly shining, people are promenading on the Zattere, fur coats are heading for storage, skiing holidays are over, gondoliers have returned from their sex holidays in Cuba and are again lightening Americans' wallets.

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