{"id":878,"date":"2016-06-04T11:09:20","date_gmt":"2016-06-04T09:09:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.englishtraining.it\/wp_news\/2016\/06\/04\/cold-blood-pizza-mafia-and-mandolins\/"},"modified":"2016-06-04T11:09:20","modified_gmt":"2016-06-04T09:09:20","slug":"cold-blood-pizza-mafia-and-mandolins","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.englishtraining.it\/wp_news\/2016\/06\/04\/cold-blood-pizza-mafia-and-mandolins\/","title":{"rendered":"In Cold Blood: Pizza, Mafia and Mandolins"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><img src=\"http:\/\/blog.zonenews.tv\/images\/cosa_accade\/collecorvino\/collecorvino%20maggio_07_19.jpg\" \/><\/p>\n<h2><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\"><span style=\"font-size: 18pt;\">COLLECORVINO PESCARA<\/span>&#8211; The town of Crow Hill, translated in English, is about thirty kilometers from a deep blue sea of a melancholy, Adriatic coast and a kiss away from the sleeping beauty alps,\u00a0<em>la bella<\/em>\u00a0<em>addormentata<\/em>. Although the town is a detour from any major tourist attraction, it has rich green fields, olive trees, wine vineyards and a dormant Christian community where the ambiguous villagers enjoy their afternoon\u00a0<em>siestas<\/em>.<\/span><\/h2>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Besides the sheep, cows, oxen, farm horses, pigs and roosters that\u00a0<em>cock a doodle doo\u00a0<\/em>in the early morning, the local residents are often seen in the summer walking in the town piazza, celebrating at music fiestas, soccer games, weddings,\u00a0taking their children to country fairs and getting their kicks by rallying behind their political candidates.\u00a0The opium of the town is to be,\u00a0<em>furbo<\/em>, Italian for a sly fox and to get away with sin.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Charitable functions are mainly left to the senior priest who is on a quest to raise funds to rebuild his damaged church. The Don was churchless for several months due to the earthquake that struck the\u00a0<em>Abruzzo<\/em>\u00a0region several years ago, cracking the front wall entrance of his church, destabilizing the foundation and destroying the second bell tower.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">On April 25, 2012, Italy \u2019s\u00a0 \u201cliberation day\u201d and by chance, my mother\u2019s 78<sup>th<\/sup>\u00a0birthday, the then Roman Catholic priest knocked on our door wanting to \u201cbless our house.\u201d The preacher, who has now retired, was perhaps unprepared to face a rude response that bordered in his mind on blasphemy. How dare someone question his righteous moral framework?<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Could it have been that my knowledge of the Italian language with its barbed-wire accent labels me a\u00a0\u201c<em>straniero<\/em>\u201d &#8211; foreigner, and thus incomprehensible to the 6,000 strong community? Or could it be there are dire consequences for a priest if he gets involved in the personal affairs of a family feud.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">The preacher shrugged and walked away. There was no indication from him that he was going to break the silence \u2013 the\u00a0<em>omert\u00e0<\/em>. Why indeed should he act as a moral referee and care about the abuse my parents have suffered? My folks never walked across the red carpet, they never mingled with financial tycoons and never inherited any precious goods.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">My father, who was an orphan by age seven, was robbed of his childhood by being forced to dig ditches for the Nazis during World War II and then later fled to Canada to escape famine. The American dream meant working in the great white north as a simple bricklayer in some of the coldest weather conditions. No big wonder why he decided to return to Italy with the hopes of spending his final years basking in warm sunny beach weather.\u00a0 He, unfortunately, was robbed from a fruitful retirement.\u00a0The nearby town\u00a0<em>Montesilvano,<\/em>\u00a0his birth place, is now where his corpse rests forever.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">And while resting in his coffin, he was robbed a third time.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">The family medical doctor, who neglected to properly care for my father, a crime in most civilized countries, and who never contributed one single penny to my father\u2019s medical and\/or funeral expenses, suddenly jumped up at the altar in front of 500 people attending the funeral mass and without our consent, gave a non consented \u2018speech.\u2019<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">\u201cI want to say I did everything I could to save him and I want to thank all the doctors at the hospital who helped me,\u201d he said. The audience applauded.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Nonsense on stilts. A wicked fairy tale illusion exploiting the opportunity while the closest to my father grieved, mourned and remained silent. The language skills to refute his pathetic claim were not in my possession. And we were in a sacred church. What happened to God\u2019s Divine Laws?<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">While the cries of my father\u2019s agony for help and wanting to change doctors because of the medical abandonment continue to be like an ice-pick poking at my brain, comparable to something out of Dante\u2019s\u00a0<em>Inferno<\/em>, or\u00a0<em>Les<\/em><em>\u00a0Mis\u00e9rables<\/em>, the sordid details of my father\u2019s excruciating pain only draws yawns when raised to local police authorities and medical review examiners.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">The family medical doctor, whose bed side manner was like watching Jack the Ripper, and whose name a year later appeared on the electoral ballot box, and then later won the election for a town councilor position, tried to rob my father in his dying days from the last thing he had &#8212; hope.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">This is the result when ethics dissolves into moral relativism, heroic materialism and to be ignored when you are not \u201cconnected.\u201d\u00a0 Truth has been trumped by title.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Just when you think it cannot get any worse, it does. And just as the moon revolves around the earth, the medical doctor\/town councilor moves towards a new vengeance and his next prey \u2013 my mother.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">On Friday January 28, 2011, while this mamma\u2019s boy or as Italians call it,\u00a0<em>mammone<\/em>, was struggling with a back swing on a Bergamo squash court, my last game in the northern town where an employment opportunity as a language consultant for several multinational corporations was found; there was a \u201cfeeling\u201d or \u201csixth sense\u201d that my mom was not okay.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Repeated phone calls to my mother that night, who lives alone and is about 800\u00a0kilometers \u00a0due\u00a0south of me, went unanswered. Something was definitely wrong. It was the urgent telephone call made by me to my cousin, and the town\u2019s middle ranked\u00a0<em>Carabinieri<\/em><em>,<\/em>\u00a0who came to the rescue. He found my mother passed out and scrawled across the floor and suffering from a serious stroke.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Fortunately, by the grace of God and a competent medical team in the stroke unit ward at the Pescara hospital, my mother was saved. Paralyzed on her left side, the complete loss of her left arm and wheel chair bound, my mother entered the rounds of medical care.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\"><em>D\u00e9j\u00e0 vu<\/em>.\u00a0Although many years had gone by since the passing away of my father, more painful memories resurfaced as my mother soon entered the exact same medical clinic. The first question the head doctor at the medical clinic asked me was as to who would look after my mother on a daily basis when she returns home?<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">My loss for words prompted the head doctor to warn me that it was a criminal offence to abandon a disabled family member and threatened to call the\u00a0<em>Carabinieri.<\/em>\u00a0if I did not provide a family name of someone who would regularly aid and assist my mother. \u201cGo ahead and call the\u00a0<em>Carabinieri<\/em>,\u201d was my response. It would have been tempting to add \u201cmake my day\u201d but Clint Eastwood lines do not translate well and cowboy diplomacy only works in the movies. The head doctor at the clinic shot another look at my mother\u2019s medical chart and the name of the ex-family doctor popped up when he suddenly realized who we were. The unwritten rule: medical doctors never rat on each other. Translation: the U.S. cavalry\u00a0<em>ain\u2019t gonna save us<\/em>.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">We immediately changed the family doctor after losing my father and officially severed a detrimental and life threatening relationship. What has not changed is the family bond. The ex-family medical doctor\/ town councilor is married to my elder sister.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">She married him when she was in he early twenties, bore two children: daughter now in her twenties and their son followed in his father\u2019s footsteps. He too, the son, now in his thirties, and who was once an altar boy, took the medical Hippocratic oath. My sister, along with her two children made a few superficial brief visits to my mother when she was in the hospital.\u00a0 Her children made even fewer visits.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Once again, my sister and her adult children were gone. Verbal and written requests, including some from my\u00a0<em>Carabinieri<\/em>\u00a0cousin who tried to persuade my one and only sister to return to the fold, went into the abyss.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">And so began the demand for help from my sister, the housewife with a high school diploma, with a cleaning servant, a gardener and four villas to find her heart and to help her mother living only 500 meters away. Immediately my sister, in her delusional and corrupted mind, complained about having been cheated from her inheritance.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">My sister stands in the shadows and blames. She first blamed her husband from preventing her from seeing her mother. True. Then she blamed my mother for her absence. False. And then she blamed me. False.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">And so began the useless legal battle that was doomed from the start to hit an iceberg. Lawyers in Italy are like the country\u2019s city clocks. Each one tells a different time. There were so many diverse interpretations of Italian law that it was anyone\u2019s guess as to how far and wide the discretion of a Judge can reach. My sister and her husband only hampered the matter with legal flip flops, blatant contradictions, false statements and the peddling of absurdity that Larry, Curly and Mo could have done a better job in arguing my case. An epidemic of hypocrisy.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">The town\u2019s head ranking\u00a0<em>Carabinieri<\/em>, the\u00a0<em>Maresciallo\u00a0<\/em>with the deep husky voice, after getting a brief visit from my brother-in-law, sided with my sister due to political pressure. The\u00a0<em>Maresciallo<\/em>\u00a0acted as judge and jury, violating police procedures and with a brief stroke of a pen, and in cold blood, he aided in getting our case dismissed and thrown into archives. He argued my mother\u2019s situation was not a legal question, but a moral problem.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Collusion? Political corruption and scandals are so rampant in Italy that parliamentary politicians in this country are now immune to criminal acts. It appears that the immunity extends to low ranking politicians, their \u201cfriends\u201d and to family members. My\u00a0<em>Carabinieri<\/em>\u00a0cousin, who when faced with a choice of either serving and protecting the innocent &#8212;\u00a0<em>vis-a-vis<\/em>\u00a0my mother &#8212; or his career, choose his career. He too has disappeared from the scene. Resistance is futile.<\/span><\/h4>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" class=\"\" src=\"http:\/\/www.abbadianews.it\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/04\/carabinieri.jpg\" width=\"415\" height=\"232\" \/><\/span><\/p>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Filing a police claim with the\u00a0<em>Carabinieri\u00a0<\/em>to begin with, was never an easy task. Communication with uniformed officers is an exercise in insanity and hypocrisy. A mountain of evidence reaching the peak of\u00a0<em>la bella addormentata<\/em>\u00a0and arguments argued in fact were needed in order to prove that my sister abandoned her moral and legal duties and violated Italy \u2019s penal code 591. Over 10 visits and countless hours were needed to several\u00a0<em>Carabinieri\u00a0<\/em>and police stations just to persuade them to file a report.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">The final persuasion was numbers. Mathematical figures do not lie. The impromptu bills of my father\u2019s medical expenses and then unfortunate funeral expenses and now the new equation of paying for my mother\u2019s medical expenses including providing a revolving door of home care assistants and therapists continue to have its toll. Plus trains, planes and automobile expenses to commute every weekend to my mother\u2019s home also bleeds my bank account dry. Nearly all my pay cheque goes to aid and assist my mom. My sister, on the other hand, her financial contribution to her father and to her mother totals\u00a0<em>diddly squat<\/em>\u00a0\u2013 a big fat zero.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">On All Saints Day weekend a few years ago, en route to visit my father\u2019s tomb, there was by chance the 30 second encounter with my sister. She was ironically taking out the trash when she was approached by yours truly. My car window was rolled down and never getting out of my car during the whole incident, she was asked in English:<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">\u201cSo are you going to help us or what?!<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">She stayed mute for a few seconds. Then she attempted to take the trash bin she was holding in her hand and smash it against my car.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">\u201cShame on you!\u201d came flying out of my mouth.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">My sister then shouted obscenities back towards me, turned tail and ran into her house shouting: \u201cCall the\u00a0<em>Maresciallo! Call the Maresciallo!\u201d.<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">\u201cCoward!\u201d was my response.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">The consequence. Within an hour the\u00a0town\u2019s\u00a0<em>Maresciallo<\/em>\u00a0was contacted. A two page police report was filed immediately and a sleuth of accusations made against me including allegedly preventing my sister from visiting her mother, terrorizing and stalking her family, offending my sister\u2019s honour by name calling with such English words as \u201ccoward, bastard, liar and using the \u2018f\u2019 word.\u201d<\/span><\/h4>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\"><img src=\"http:\/\/i.telegraph.co.uk\/multimedia\/archive\/01989\/judge_1989127b.jpg\" \/><\/span><\/p>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">On Friday June 08, 2012 at 9:00 a.m., yours truly was dragged into court and after firing my useless lawyers, faced the solo threat of receiving \u20ac2,000 in financial penalties, not including court and legal costs and translation costs, plus a six month prison term.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Having sat in a hot stuffy room for over an hour where it is written in huge Italian letters &#8212;\u00a0<em>La<\/em><em>\u00a0legge<\/em><em>\u00a0\u00e8<\/em><em>\u00a0uguale<\/em><em>\u00a0per<\/em><em>\u00a0tutti<\/em>\u00a0&#8212; the law is equal for everybody &#8212; an aging Peace Judge stared down at me while a teary-eyed melodramatic sister sobbed and her husband with dark shady glasses hid in the back of the courtroom.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">Serious thoughts raced across my mind. Would they have me digging ditches like my father did for the Nazis?\u00a0 Then suddenly, the Peace Judge made me an offer one could not refuse. Say \u201c<em>scusi<\/em>\u201d to my narcissist sister and the whole thing will be over without any consequences. Admitting guilt on phony charges was not the ideal solution. The apologetic word was reluctantly forced out of my mouth and in my opinion, meaningless. My sister, her egomaniac husband \u2013 the medical doctor\/town councilor &#8212; and their devious lawyer, on the other hand, were content and shuffled out of the courtroom. They returned to the status quo.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">My story, however, is far from over and many questions remain. My mother\u2019s medical condition means she is wheelchair bound, she has to get use to losing the use of her left arm, and wearing diapers. In the small town where we live, the church is of no help. The new priest\u2019s promise to visit our home an give my mom holy communion on regular basis is like waiting for a solar eclipse. Who will help my mother nurse her broken heart? The salt has lost its saltiness.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><span style=\"font-size: 14pt;\">May my father rest in peace.<\/span><\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>COLLECORVINO PESCARA&#8211; The town of Crow Hill, translated in English, is about thirty kilometers from a deep blue sea of a melancholy, Adriatic coast and a kiss away from the sleeping beauty alps,\u00a0la bella\u00a0addormentata. Although the town is a detour from any major tourist attraction, &hellip; <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v16.2 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>In Cold Blood: Pizza, Mafia and Mandolins | English Training Blog News<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"corso inglese online english training\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.englishtraining.it\/wp_news\/2016\/06\/04\/cold-blood-pizza-mafia-and-mandolins\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_GB\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"In Cold Blood: Pizza, Mafia and Mandolins | 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