A Beautiful Image Sent to Us by
William Wheatleybut You Ain't Gonna Believe What Happened To William & His Wife Giovanna
In Sicily last week!
From
Guillermo Wheatley,
Young Jr. Baby Criminal &
A DHS
Gradgiate Who Be Done Receive His Diplooma & WALKED in '62!
Here's my trip report (trip of 6/19 to 7/1):We're back from our travels. '
In Sicily we visited Giovanna's family. Many of her
aunts and uncles are old and some are dying, so it was a bittersweet visit. We
did get a couple of days at the beach (her parents have a beach house on the
southern coast). It was hot -- up to 113 deg F in the day, down into the upper
80's at night, and very little is air conditioned. They are not used to such
heat, which was abnormal for Sicily. The weather reports said it was because the
air was coming up from the Sahara. On our last day it cooled down into the
comfortable 80's, with the air direction shifting so that the air was coming
from the west.
Our first night at the beach we went into the little town of Marina de Ragusa
(Port of Ragusa) to find an ATM machine. We found one at the local bank, but
Giovanna had trouble getting her card to go in -- the slot was covered with a
piece of orange plastic, so she pushed the card in under the plastic. The
machine was on, but nothing happened. Finally, she called me over and explained
what had happened. I told her the orange plastic probably meant the machine was
out of service. I was able to slide the orange plastic up to expose the space
where the card slot should be, but there was just a rectangular opening into the
machine. The card reader had been removed, and Giovanna's ATM card had dropped
down into the innards of the machine. The next morning we drove in again and
explained to the bank manager what had happened. He explained that they would
not be able to get at the innards of the machine until it was taken out for
service, which might not be for years. Accordingly, we decided to call the
customer service number on my card (for the same account at the same bank),
report what happened, and ask that her card be cancelled. However, we were
unable to dial the 800 number from outside the US. Later, when banks in the US
would have been open, we tried to get a number for our bank from directory
assistance, but could not find a US directory assistance number we could access
from outside the US. Finally, we called Giovanna's sister in New Jersey,
Silvana, who called directory assistance and got our bank's number for us. We
then called the bank and got the card cancelled.
The next morning, we decided to clear and clean the little courtyard behind the
house, which had weeds growing out of the joints in the pavement and a date palm
at the back with old fronds draped down onto the pavement. We couldn't find
proper tools, so I attacked the weeds successfully with an old steak knife. I
discovered that its serrated edge also made a good saw for sawing through the
fibrous base of the palm fronds. The base of the leaves, however, had long,
needle-sharp spines about six inches long, so I had to be careful. I was able to
take off three of the old fronds with only a few pricks of various parts of my
hands. Then I attacked the fourth frond. When I was a little more than half way
through the stem, the palm decided to fight back. The stem snapped and the stem
rebounded, stabbing the end of my right thumb with a spike, which then snapped
off at the surface of the skin. Giovanna found a pair of tweezers, but I could
not get a grip on the end of the spine -- it was now below skin level -- and
there were no sharp knives in the house that could be used to cut in to get at
the spine. Accordingly, we went up the road to a government emergency clinic.
The doctor there used a scalpel and large tweezers to extract the piece of palm
spine, which was about 3/8-inch long. The edges of the spine were barbed, which
made it difficult to remove. He then sterilized and bandaged the thumb and gave
us a bill for 15 Euros. Had we been in the US, we would have had to pay about
$350 for use of the emergency facility, plus $250 for the doctor, plus $50 for
antiseptic and bandaging materials. There was a catch, however. We could not pay
the doctor. We had to go to a post office and pay there, then bring a stamped
receipt back to the clinic within five days. We went to the post office, but the
window that accepts payments for government bills other than postal bills closes
at noon and does not reopen. That night we were to go back to Ragusa, so the
next morning we had to go to the post office in Ragusa to pay. That took about
1-1/2 hours because of the time spent standing in line. Then we had to drive
back down to the coast and give the doctor the receipt. We did that, and then
went back to the beach for another hour of relaxation before going back to
Ragusa to visit sick relatives.
While in Ragusa, we attended the confirmation of a cousin of our niece's (which
meant a dinner celebration afterwards at a good restaurant -- sort of like a
wedding dinner). A few days later, we attended the confirmation of our niece,
Mariangelica, which also meant a dinner celebration. In short, I was well fed in
Sicily and came home four pounds heavier. Fortunately, I had lost six pounds in
the weeks leading up to the trip to make ready.
We spent the last day in Amsterdam on our way home. We returned by way of
Amsterdam because there were more flight options for standby passengers than
there were going through Rome or Milan, where the flights were sold out. We
decided to take a day in Amsterdam, since I had never been there. It was much
cooler there, 59 deg F, when we landed in the late afternoon. The next day it
got into the upper 60's.
The Amsterdam news reports said that they were having
an unusually cold spring and summer due to global warming, which, of course, is
the fault of the US and in particular of George W. Bush, whose environmental
policies are promoting global warming because of American capitalist greed.
The
American Government is known to be controlled by the big US corporations and not
by the people.We did a lot of walking on our one day there, as it is a very walkable city and
very attractive. In the morning, we did the Rembrandt exhibit in the museum. In
the early afternoon, after lunch, we were feeling sleepy, so we looked for a
good coffee shop/bar to get a cup of good espresso (something hard to find in
northern Europe). Starbucks has not made it yet to the Netherlands.
Finally we spotted a small storefront that said "Coffee Bar - 67 Varieties and
Blends Available". We went in. It had two tables with people smoking and sipping
coffee, and a stand-up bar. We ordered two espressos at the bar, and the man
behind the bar said, "Do you want to smoke?" I said, "No, we don't smoke -- we
just want coffee." It was then that the scent of the smoke penetrated my
consciousness (we were just inside the door, with a good breeze blowing in, so I
hadn't noticed before). The wall behind the bar was lined with shelves holding
tins of what I had first taken to be coffee. Now, however, I read the labels:
Acapulco Gold;
Hash Dreams; Columbia Brown; etc. I didn't count them, but I am
sure there could well have been 67 different varieties of marijuana and hashish
for sale there.
We drank our coffee quickly and left. It was a sorry excuse for espresso, but
then I guess that the coffee was just an excuse for the bar. I tried not to
inhale while in the "coffee" bar ;-)
In the afternoon, we walked the historic centre of the city and then took a boat
tour of the canals. Amsterdam has as many canals as streets, I think. I really
enjoyed the canal tour.
If we had been able to spend more time in Amsterdam, we would have toured the
two large churches, both built in the 14th century but converted to Protestant
use in the Reformation (for which all statues and religious art were removed and
destroyed). We also would have visited the Catholic church that was secret
during the Reformation. It occupies what had been the top three floors of three
large city houses. From the outside, all one sees is three large houses. Inside,
the top two floors were removed to make a church. We would also have visited the
Ann Frank house, and the maritime museum, where we could have toured an East
Indiaman, the large armed commercial sailing ships used in the East India trade
in the 1600's and 1700's.
We'll have to go back some day.
--Guillermo
William Arthur Wheatley, R.A.
Chairman and Chief Executive Officer
Wheatley US Limited
2 Bala Plaza, Suite 300
Bala Cynwyd, PA 19004-1501, USA
Tel. +1 610-660-7819
Fax: +1 610-667-8147
Tel. Direct to Mr. Wheatley +1 610-658-0579
Mr. Wheatley's Cell Phone +1 610 517 6666
Fax Direct to Mr. Wheatley +1 610-658-6318
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eMail: w.wheatley@WheatleyUS.com
Anywayzzzzzzzzzz GuillermoHope youzzzzzzzzze
have stashed sum uv dat
HASH DREAMSBACK
fo' my ole' buddy Doowang.
'Cause
He like to light it
UPon the head of a pin under glass
& kinda drank dat stuff
& den worry 'bout where hair
WUZ SUPPOSEDto have
growed on his body!
NOT ONLYzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
dAT!
You ain't gonna believe this but
YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO my two songs @
http://myspace.com/beaugator39sare not unimportant to me so I decided to print the lyrics
which I mostly wrote.
SALLY SANG
Is it high on the mountain
Or down in the limesink?
Are my days for the highway?
Will they go in a dream?
Will a man come & save me
or must I go under,
Or will my mind answer me
with the words I desire?
But
LIFE ANSWERS NO QUESTIONS THAT COME FROM OUTSIDE IT.
& Life Will Never Tell Us What Comes Further Along
So lay down sweet Sally & love your poor body
'cause a light in the tunnel just might burn your sweet smile.
I'll run like a shorebird
Who's looking for footsteps.
I'll harvest the dark times
I'll fly through the moon
I'll ask all the questions & not expect comment.
I'll live like the old ones and I'll die just like a child.
but
LIFE ANSWERS NO QUESTIONS THAT COME FROM OUTSIDE IT.
& Life Will Never Tell Us What Comes Further Along
So lay down sweet Sally & love your poor body
'cause a light in the tunnel just might burn your sweet smile.
I'll ask all the questions
& not expect comment
I'll live like the old ones
& I'll die like a child.
but
LIFE ANSWERS NO QUESTIONS THAT COME FROM OUTSIDE IT.
& Life Will Never Tell Us What Comes Further Along
So lay down sweet Sally & love your poor body
'cause a light in the tunnel just might burn your sweet smile.
Can't Be Too Fast
Think you got trouble with women;
Southern girls are fun but they're different.
Well, son, don't let your first one be your last.
Learn to walk before you run
Keep your eyes turned toward the sun
You can't be too fast for living
You can't be too fast for living
You can't be too fast for living in The South!
Now you feel somewhat neglected
By the South you feel rejected
Well boy don't let that face begin to pout
Keep on looking toward that sun
Crank your truck & load your gun
You can't be too fast for living
You can't be too fast for living
You can't be too fast for living in The South!
We're just a tribe of mothers & brothers
All sharing each others covers
We're all trying to stay in out of the cold.
While we're singing for our supper
We're trying to help out one another
Get a grip on where it's hard to take hold
Now your worryingzzzzz
just about over
The weight is lifted off of your shoulders
But you still need your booze and you need your grass
Cold white water & boulders
Brought you back home to your brothers
Your indignation seems a part of your past
Here you might scream
Wait a minute!
This is the South
& I'm living in it
Well, I think it's funny and it's true
You don't seem sane anymore
& you just can't find the door
You can't be too fast for living
You can't be too fast for living
You can't bee too fast for living in The South.
You can't be too fast for living
You can't be too fast for living
You can't be too fast for living in the South.
Roberto----
we used to go to WTVY's studio on Saturday afternoons and see the wrestling matches.
I was probably in the ninth grade. At one match, right after somebody had thrown somebody else out of the ring "right onto the hard, terrazo tile floor", as John Gauss always said, they announced that they needed a volunteer from the audience for a "wrestling demonstration."
The bunch of yahoos I was out there with volunteered me.
I had a new pack of Marlboros in my shirt pocket, which I didn't want flying out on television for everybody watching (including, most likely, my Daddy), to see, so I secretly handed them off to the guy sitting next to me, Farley Moody, and I got shoved into the ring.
Mario Galento stepped into the ring and I damned near passed out.
Ugly? Holy Cow! I'd never seen him up that close before. The ref took my specs and put them in his pocket and Mario shook my hand. Before I knew anything else, I was up in the air, flew straight over his head and landed on the canvas floor of the ring with a loud bang. It was like landing on feathers. I never felt a thing. The bang noise was made by Mario with his elbows or his knees as he came down on top of me. He helped me up, shook my hand again, and I exited the ring to loud hooting and applause.
I talked to Mario after the show, and he was a nice guy.
I never saw my Marlboros again.
Jimmy Dean
