White bread ...
I asked a few good friends to check out our web site and give me some comments. It's new, so I expect lots of good feedback and suggestions, some we'll take and use, some we'll consider and not act upon.
One comment I received was on a statement on the site where we say:
"We know what excites you."
My friend's response was:
"I don't think so."
(as in, "Mark, you're an idiot, you can't possibly know what excites me, and this sure doesn't.")
And he then went on to make some very good suggestions for clarifying and improving much of the site. Many I'll implement.
But, I kept coming back to his comment above. It struck me in a way I could not explain, until I started thinking about writing here.
Different strokes for different folks I guess. What excites us about our property in Italy is the total sensory experience when we leave good old "white bread" Central Ohio for Fano, Le Marche, Italy. Everything changes ... everything. Just a few examples:
Background Buzz. Whenever we're in a place with other people, we tune into the background buzz ... the multiple conversations going on in Italian, a language foreign to us. Sure, I've been studying it for some time, and speaking it, but not to the point where that background buzz just fades to white noise like when in the US. Constant aural stimulation ... constant.
Eye Candy. You can say lots of things about Italy and Italians, but one thing you cannot say is that they are not the masters at making all things stylish and appealing to the eye. Everything. Spending time anywhere in Italy is visual sensory overload for a novice (i.e. non-Italian). Clothing. Pastries. Coffee. Architecture. Advertisements. Cars. Women. Men. Children. If it's not as appealing to the eye as it is to the taste, smell, touch, or whatever else (the heart maybe?), it just doesn't exist, because it can't. That wouldn't be Italian.
Scents. More things smell wonderful in Italy than any other country - sorry France. Even the garbage bags small great (they're scented, but with a fragrance that's so pleasing you want to take out the garbage). The people smell wonderful. The restaurants smell wonderful. And, oh my goodness, the bakeries, pastry shops, and cafes smell wonderful.
Our new apartment is right above a bakery and soon a new rosticceria. The smells coming from the bakery now are so wonderful, it's almost sinful. Go out on our terrace at 5 am, smell the intoxicating "profumo" of freshly baked bread, and hear the quiet opera playing on the radio as the staff goes about their chores. I can't even begin to imagine how this pleasure will be magnified once the rosticceria is operating!
So, actually, I do know what excites my friend, and it's none of what I've mentioned here. However, there's a great big world of people out there, some of whom are sitting on the edge of their seats saying to themselves (or their computer screens), "Yes! Yes! I know! I've experienced the same thing! Gosh, it's fantastic!"
They actually broke away from white bread for a time.
One comment I received was on a statement on the site where we say:
"We know what excites you."
My friend's response was:
"I don't think so."
(as in, "Mark, you're an idiot, you can't possibly know what excites me, and this sure doesn't.")
And he then went on to make some very good suggestions for clarifying and improving much of the site. Many I'll implement.
But, I kept coming back to his comment above. It struck me in a way I could not explain, until I started thinking about writing here.
Different strokes for different folks I guess. What excites us about our property in Italy is the total sensory experience when we leave good old "white bread" Central Ohio for Fano, Le Marche, Italy. Everything changes ... everything. Just a few examples:
Background Buzz. Whenever we're in a place with other people, we tune into the background buzz ... the multiple conversations going on in Italian, a language foreign to us. Sure, I've been studying it for some time, and speaking it, but not to the point where that background buzz just fades to white noise like when in the US. Constant aural stimulation ... constant.
Eye Candy. You can say lots of things about Italy and Italians, but one thing you cannot say is that they are not the masters at making all things stylish and appealing to the eye. Everything. Spending time anywhere in Italy is visual sensory overload for a novice (i.e. non-Italian). Clothing. Pastries. Coffee. Architecture. Advertisements. Cars. Women. Men. Children. If it's not as appealing to the eye as it is to the taste, smell, touch, or whatever else (the heart maybe?), it just doesn't exist, because it can't. That wouldn't be Italian.
Scents. More things smell wonderful in Italy than any other country - sorry France. Even the garbage bags small great (they're scented, but with a fragrance that's so pleasing you want to take out the garbage). The people smell wonderful. The restaurants smell wonderful. And, oh my goodness, the bakeries, pastry shops, and cafes smell wonderful.
Our new apartment is right above a bakery and soon a new rosticceria. The smells coming from the bakery now are so wonderful, it's almost sinful. Go out on our terrace at 5 am, smell the intoxicating "profumo" of freshly baked bread, and hear the quiet opera playing on the radio as the staff goes about their chores. I can't even begin to imagine how this pleasure will be magnified once the rosticceria is operating!
So, actually, I do know what excites my friend, and it's none of what I've mentioned here. However, there's a great big world of people out there, some of whom are sitting on the edge of their seats saying to themselves (or their computer screens), "Yes! Yes! I know! I've experienced the same thing! Gosh, it's fantastic!"
They actually broke away from white bread for a time.
posted by Mark Pukita | 12:11 PM
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