Cyclobenzaprine is one hell of a drug. I now understand why they called it Mellow Yellow. But it’s gotten the back spasms under control. On that note (really?) I have some long-overdue pics taken by my (un)official photographer, Vincenzo Colecchia.
Short story shorter: Met Enzo while on book tour in Como. He runs a small bookstore there, a single room tucked among the sloping alleys of that old Roman village. We became fast friends, he and his lovely girlfriend visited us April ’09, and we plied them with maple syrup, french toast, tapioca, and other random American goodies.
He also took this pic of our living room, complete with resident superdog:
The local diner was of particular fascination to our Italian friends. They’d seen American diners in movies. Never in person.
My eyes are closing. “Doped” would be an appropriate word. As would “fairly mulled” to coin an old Sinatra phrase.
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