Mamma mia! Well, that’s what this picture reminds me of. It also gives me the feeling that these two people are pleasantly satisfied with their respective states of being. Perhaps they have overcome numerous sets of obstacles in their lives and have prevailed over it all, only to laugh about it over a good plate of spaghetti and meatballs at their distinguished ages. That’s why they are smiling-slash-laughing.
I feel like an acquaintance that I recently made can relate to this situation. Italian-born and raised in Provence, he seemed to revel in his apparent success of tenaciously holding on to his idealistic values from the 1970s: Eat, drink and be merry.
Many of my souvenirs from a dinner party at his house play out like a film from the Italian cinema:
Mr. Italian Acquaintance: Love is like drinking. It doesn’t matter what the bottle looks like, it matters what’s on the inside.
Me: So it seems.
Mr. Italian Acquaintance: Our governments are collapsing. Let’s have a drink.
And later …
Me: The ’70s are coming back. They’re doing a remake of Dallas.
Mr. Italian Acquaintance: [Widens his eyes and pauses.] Oh! Qu’est-ce qui va se passer à Sue Ellen cette fois-ci? (Oh! What’s going to happen to Sue Ellen this time?) His tone is rushed and excited!
Me: [Amused.] Can I have the bread?
Eating my bread, I got to thinking how Dallas had been a huge hit in France for the longest time, even for people as cultured as my new acquaintance (He and his fiercely creative wife built a Provençal villa from scratch and make their own olive oil.). I suppose he didn’t really care what anyone thought of his liking the old show. He seemed perfectly content with his wife at the head of the table as they both smiled/laughed as they entertained me with stories about their amazing lives.
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