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Month: August 2003

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August 17, 2003

Train back to Rome. 
We just passed the little town of chieti. Where they found evidence of the oldest civilization of Italy. From 13,000 years ago. talking about anthropology. One of my favorite subjects. Very passionate about it. we discussed how rewarding it is to discuss it, like eating an ice cream. know we just recently found a new sub-species a few weeks or months ago. they call it homo sapiens adoltus or something like this. larger skulls than us. longer faces. Still no link though. But we will get there. and what is next? I said teleportation. That is our next unchartered frontier. Just like the fax machine I say. Use the fax machine as our model. Just use our DNA and transpose it from genetic data into binary data. Teleport one’s image or personality anywhere you want to. like a holograph or something but more data. maybe not the actual person. “well then I could be in more than one place at the same time if I wanted to with that method. Kind of.” Steph says. “yes you could. And that’s when the real fun begins.” 
Is there anything better than a brother? Or a sister? (I don’t actually have a sister, but I assume the pleasure is the same.) talking about our brothers. I don’t think you get closer to anyone more than to your brother or your sister. To your spouse of course but in a different way. I don’t even need to speak with my brother. Because we are so close. It is like they are a part of you in some weird way. you feel so at home with them. talking about Beav and how different we are. “is your brother interested in tracing your family like you are? Will he come here?” “No. he’s not like this. He will pat his wife on the back and point to his little babies and say “This is my family right here man. I don’t need to look for our family. My family is right here in my house.” That’s Beav. We are completely different. Living vicariously through each other’s very different lives.

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Uncategorized family history, Labels: chieti italy, oldest italian civilization, siblings, train ride to rome, transcendence diaries

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August 16, 2003

Riding scooters through The countryside on our way to the tiny town of Penne. Hours and hours in the hot baking sun.

This is it. The entrance to the great city of Penne. Hometown to my great-grandfather’s family. The morelli family. Town of 13,000 people. an ancient town dating from 213 AD. The whole town made of brick. All the roads are paved in brick. Everything is built on these hills. And everything is connected. All just one gigantic building housing thousands of people and churches and businesses. All made of this old brick. Climbing up the hills on our scooter, climbing up and up The cold ride back. looking for Carla. The beautiful people. what a feeling it was to sit in a 1500 year old café in the hometown of my great grandfather…. long before I was ever even conceived of or imagined…

Stopped at these family’s home because they make olive oil right there in their house. Sat down and got to know them a little. Eating bread and cheese and oil. I bought jugs and jugs of this olive oil to bring back with me.

Such a contrast to the big city of Pescara. Pescara is like Detroit or something. It is just a sprawling city. highways everywhere. a lot of industry. The ugliest place I have seen in Italy so far. it is actually hard for me to drive through due to the overwhelming lack of real beauty anywhere in the town. Which is funny because so far it is the nicest collection of beautiful girls I have seen in the country. We are truly in awe of what we have seen the last two days. So many beautiful girls and boys it is hard to fathom at first. The Italian girls try to talk with us but we do not speak well enough. And they speak no English except, ‘what is your name. my name is …’ 

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Uncategorized ethnicity in america, family history, Labels: entrance of penne, making olive oil, nationality, Penne itlay, transcendence diaries, what is ethnicity, what is nationality

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August 15, 2003

Eating this amazing breakfast with a view of the ocean. Hey its not Miami, but its pretty nice. seeing that the “lindenberger” cheese that is supposedly German we are eating has a little Kraft label on it makes me feel very good. everytime I see an Italian smoking Marlboros or some other American brand it makes me feel good. you don’t think about that until you leave America and head abroad and then all you think about is how many of our products are other countries purchasing, how we can increase this, and how we can develop more products in our own country for our own country to purchase. It becomes a little obsession. Thinking about our economy in comparison to other countries. Seeing on TV how Libya now is trying to kiss our ass and finally stand up of that bombing they did. and now we are supposed to authorize the lifting of the sanctions. You don’t realize what power it is to be an American till you start traveling. Then you know. we are immune to it back home. Take it for granted. Libya can fuck off. They killed over two hundred of our people for what? Sorry. Yes we will take your 217 million dollars and no we will not lift the sanctions. 
The longer I stay away the more proud I am to be an American. the more I talk to people here and hear what they go through. The red tape and the beaurocracy. Lack of this or that. “how do so many of you have your own companies over there” Stephano from Germany asks me. “shit dude. At one time I had five going. now I only have three.” “This is amazing,” he says. “is it true that anyone can just start a business of their own?” “yes. We can get the idea today and start it tomorrow if we want to. we’re used to this.” “this is why America has such a great economy. You are all so free. Everyone wants money. Everyone wants to consume. So you all work hard to consume more and this keeps your economy growing. In Germany it is not this way. people want security first. They don’t think about consuming like you do. if you make a certain amount of money you find a way to live according to that. in America you just look for another job or work two jobs or start your own company. This is amazing.” I looked at him talking about this so passionately while I ate my breakfast. I explained to him how I had been in business since I was nine years old, on and off of course. Starting with my shoe shine business, then my own car wash business, then my own lawn mowing business. then my own term paper writing business in college. Then I started taking the SATs and other tests for people at 2 to 3 hundred dollars a pop. (I know I shouldn’t admit to this) and then my own recording studio, then of course my band was a business, record label, health food store, juice bars, vitamin companies, real estate investment company, on and on. He couldn’t believe it. he has always studied about American entrepreneurs and the free enterprise system in university but now he was sharing a weekend with a very typically passionate American entrepreneur. And I was as much surprised and inspired by his awe and enthusiasm. And I’m not even a very successful entrepreneur at that. I go in and out of being rich. I’ve made millions and still don’t have millions. The good ones, they get rich and they stay rich. That’s my goal I tell him. I recount to him how Tony Robbins went from one hundred thousand a year to one million a year in a few years and then from one to six million a year a year or two later. This is what I’m working at. He looks at me with wide eyes. “six million dollars a year?” he exclaims. “sure, that’s nothing. A lot of CEOs make forty million a year, easy.” It is very easy to do this in America. It is inbred in us. we grow up seeing and hearing about it everyday.” 

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Uncategorized breakfast by the ocean, european football, Labels: american football, proud to be american, stereotyping americans, transcendence diaries

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August 14, 2003

The heat wave in Europe is like something they have never seen. Over a hundred people have died in Paris so far. I don’t know if people have died in Italy. But in Germany as well. Now I will take extra precaution. For the other day I felt so sick from the heat that I thought as though I was going to pass out. I didn’t realize you could die from it. you do not want to eat here. it is too hot for food. Only drink. In less than five minutes you can guzzle down two or three cans of soda or Gatorade and not even blink. Your body craves liquids. And you do spend a considerable amount of time feeling sick or just tired from the heat. 
I will miss the street cafes very much here in Italy. They are everywhere. there is a café or a bar every few yards. In the states we do not have this, because we do not have a lot of public places as they do here. we need more of that in America. 
Today at lunch speaking of the difference between languages. High context languages—where the meaning is slightly hidden versus low context where what is meant is what is spoken. Very interesting. German or Dutch being low context. The people very direct. Say what they mean. French or English from England being very high context, where if you aren’t from a certain region or town you may not even know what someone meant by what they said, meanings are more hidden within riddles and ideas. The French are good at it. the English perhaps even better. Of course the Asians are the best at this. 

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Uncategorized Labels: european heat wave, lunch with friends, transcendence diaries

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August 13, 2003

Today I went to lunch with the French guy and the two German guys from class. Good times. Three of us are in the same age group. They are all very surprised by my being here etc. as if Americans don’t come to other countries etc. They are all here for their jobs. When I explained to them that I had a little Italian in my blood, it made more sense. But there was this feeling in the air about us. they told me that I was not like an American. That America is all puppets and circuses with nothing of substance. That Americans don’t speak other languages, either English or Spanish if they are from South America. That most of them don’t even know that other countries exist. Etc, etc. I told them they were stereotyping. Walking home one of the Germans Stephano asked me if it is hard for me in the states being an intellectual and being surrounded by dumb people. and If I planned on moving here to Europe so I could be around smarter people. I’m serious. He just came out and asked me this. My first reaction was how does he know if I am intellectual or not. Cause I don’t think I am. I think there are plenty of intellectuals in the states and I’m not one of them. I explained to them that I’m a creator. We know a little bit about a lot of things, just enough to keep us constantly stimulated and inspired, but we certainly aren’t intellectuals. I have some friends who are intellectuals and they bore the hell out of me. Give me the big picture baby! But I did know what he meant. I told them that in fact yes by the time I had left America I was so bored with the lack of intellectual stimulation I was getting and so disgusted by the constant barrage of crass commercialism in our arts and entertainment—its as if it is a sin to have a brain now in America, one gets the impression that you are better off if you hide the fact that you are smart. Just try to act cool instead. 
Yes I knew what he meant. But I explained to them that I didn’t necessarily find it anymore intellectual or intelligent here and I had been to the four largest cities in the country. It is true that most Europeans do speak 2 or 3 foreign languages. And this is impressive. And most Americans only speak English. This is a fact. And it is also a fact that most Americans don’t know where or even what Belgium is for example. They kept explaining to me how dumb we were because people like eminem and Britney spears and J lo are like cultural heroes in America, and everything is about being cool and sexy, but that we offer the world nothing of substance. And in America no one cares about being smart. They were really nailing into me with some serious prejudice against Americans. They resent the fact that now their countries are being polluted with crappy American R&B music about sex all the time, and cheesy American movies about sex all the time. they said they are afraid it is going to bring their countries down. I’m not kidding. They nailed into about this for hours. I felt totally discriminated against by these other three guys…
Of course they mentioned GW Bush, and asked me what I thought about him etc, which I get asked by everyone. I told them that on behalf of most Americans we are really sorry for Bush and that although he is a typical American, his administration and his questionable policies are not necessarily representative of most American people. I told them that all of this may be true about a lot of the stupid stuff that is in the mainstream in America. But there is something about the new world that is very special, very stimulating in a different way. it is as if in Europe there is this “we can’t” or “lets wait” mentality. And in the states we have this “we can” or “lets do it” attitude. So yea we’re pretty dumb sometimes, but if I were sick I wouldn’t want to go to a hospital anywhere other than in America. In fact I told them I think really we are the best at everything. I was as shocked to hear this come out of my mouth as they were, but I told them that yes I drive a German car, but that’s America, were smart enough to know to drive a German car if we want performance or an Italian or English car if we want luxury and style, or a Japanese car if we want a good deal and a reliable car that will last forever. that’s us. maybe we aren’t so intellectual, but I just think we are the smartest people. maybe as a whole we aren’t, I mean our lowest common denominator is lower than most of the rest of civilization, as evidenced by the inane music in our top forty (for example in America we get our Sting and our Peter Gabriel from the UK (we just think they’re ours)) and of course our very low test scores show the same thing. 
But still I think that the best of us are the best anywhere. And I think our achievements over the last 200 years have shown this. cars, flight, electricity, space program, medicine, government, the list goes on and on, and of course what is an American but someone who came from somewhere else. why are we the best at everything? (I laughed at myself here). it is the fact that all of us came from somewhere else so there is this wide variety of minds and spirits in the states. We have the best of the entire world in our country. Also the innovative spirit that dominates our thinking. Innovation and entrepreneurism are our most prized possessions in our free enterprise system. And the spirit of freedom and liberty that we enjoy is like no where else. I also think that there is a sense of safety in America that other countries don’t experience as much. All of these things have lead to and continue to lead to America being a world leader in innovation and achievement in any field we want to undertake. Lets hope we keep it that way. I think by the time we all separated after lunch they were convinced that I was just another egotistical flag waving American like anyone else over there. but I don’t care. I have been away long enough now to appreciate more than I ever could before how wonderful America is. and wonderful the American people are. I think we are the smartest coolest most friendly open-minded and spirited polite helpful innovative and motivated people in the world. Every time I meet another American on the street here I am amazed at how sweet and nice AND how knowledgeable they are in this funny kind of American way. like they may not know anything about Rome, but they are pulling in 75 thou a year at home at their job and they are the top at whatever they do. so there is something to be said about that. 

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Uncategorized democracy, entrepreneurism, freedom, Labels: america viewed from the outside world, liberty, stereotyping americans, transcendence diaries

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August 12, 2003

Tonight I left the Internet café at 10:45 for my hotel which is about a five minute drive away. I got to my hotel at 1:00 AM. Two hours of just driving around totally lost in this God forsaken crazy fucking city. 
Mom called tonight while I was lost. About midnight. On my cell phone. Seriously. I’m on a motorcycle miles and miles from my hotel, totally lost at one o’clock in the morning on some desolate street in Rome. And I’m having a fucking nervous breakdown. And my cell phone rings and its my mom calling from America. Thank God for this miracle. This is what I mean by angels or spirits that help us out. “Honey are you sleeping? I just had a feeling I should call you…” “No I’m not sleeping mom.” “wahts wrong with you? You sound upset honey.” “I’m fucking lost. I have no idea where I am and I’ve been driving for two hours.” “Honey why are you always lost? Everytime I talk to you, you are lost. Even in Miami…” “I don’t know. I just don’t like driving. I hate driving. Its so boring. I can’t believe I don’t have someone to drive me around everywhere all the time….” “Well you don’t right now. so you are going to have to discreate this belief of yours that you can’t drive and that you get lost all the time. you can’t go around your whole life getting lost.” “Mom. I know that. fuck. God. I am just so fucking lost. I hate this.” “Well don’t you see any police men you can ask for directions?” “mom this is Rome. Its one o’clock in the morning. There are no police officers. The streets are empty. I’m going to have to sleep in the street here. I’m just going to lie and down and sleep. And get run over in the morning.” “Fishy you’re so dramatic. Now c’mon pick yourself up and go find someone to ask for directions.” “I hate asking people for directions.” “Well you may want to discreate that too. then maybe you wouldn’t be getting lsot so much. Now c’mon, don’t make me worry like this. go find someone to help you and I will stay on the phone…” I was literally on the verge of total panic being lost for almost two hours at that point. When she called I was just sitting on my bike on a corner pissed off, not knowing where I was. I could not find my way home. I was miles and miles from my hotel, even though where I started from was only a few blocks away. and here my mom calls… things like this…. just make you believe….
Rome sucks in this respect. Their streets aren’t marked. Their highways aren’t marked. They seriously don’t have highway or street signs like we do in the states. Every now and then you will see a tiny sign on a the side of a building to tell you what street you are on but not often. You can get to an intersection in this town and look at all four corners and not see one sign to indicate where you are. Half the time I throw my hands up in the air and scream. Can you just give me one fucking sign per intersection?! That would be a good start to join the rest of civilization people. the other thing is the way they have it mapped out here where every street is a one way. so you may want to go five yards ahead of you but you cannot because the street won’t let you. so you have to go around. And then around and then around and on and on. One minute you are driving one direction on a street and the next minute the street has big do not enter signs on it even though you are driving that direction. The street just literally dead ends into another street that is headed in the opposite direction. All of this with almost no stop lights. So you have to turn off the street you are on and turn onto some other street. But of course they don’t have any signs on that street so you don’t know where you just turned onto and then all the streets might be one way for two or three streets in a row so by the time you make the turn you think you need to you could be in an entirely different neighborhood and of course you are totally lost. They have highways that come out of nowhere with no exits for miles. So you get stuck on these highways and you end up all the way across town. Two hours of this. maddening. I felt as though I was going crazy. I have never seen city streets so completely without order or sense or logic. And I’m comparing this city to Sao Paulo or Rio or New York. Much bigger cities. But at least in Sao Paulo the streets make sense. (of course the people there drive worse than any city in the world—so at least give Rome this much—they drive better here) Here it is just tons of curves and twists and turns everywhere. Next time I am just going to drive the wrong way down the one way if I have to. Again, if you are here to be a tourist and walk around just in the historic center and see the sites, it is very romantic and beautiful, and more than that, it is very interesting. After all it is Rome. But if you are here to live and work and drive around like in any other city it is a little confusing at first. I have been assured that I will get used to it. and also advised that most newcomers don’t start out by renting a motorbike their first week. they usually learn the city first. So I know that this is some of my own doing.  
All of this could be due to the general stress I am experiencing now. Sometimes I think I am becoming malnourished from living here. I don’t get enough vegetables, that’s for sure. All I eat is pizza and pasta and cheese and tomatoes. I think that’s all they have. A major transition obviously, and often times they are difficult for us—these ‘what now?’ moments. I miss Cleo very much. I have never been on my own before. I have always had girlfriends. I have always had a staff to do everything, at least since my adult years. I am learning so much from being on my own and not being around her or having her call me ten times a day. I hate this actually. I find it very difficult to be without her to advise me what to do about things. I hate being away from her and I hate not having her to ask for advice. Having no girlfriend. No job. Not enough money from my music. When will we ever stop being a local band. If I fucking hear that again I’m going to punch the person in the face and break their nose. We’ve been working so hard for so long. No major record label. No big deal. I figure if you can’t make it on your own you have no business making it anyway. But it’s the no assistant right now that makes me feel totally lost—I just can’t handle it. and no income, barely a band because they are all so busy with a hundred other projects. It is just a complete start over for me. What am I doing riding around Europe on a motorbike attending a school every day to learn Italian? seriously what the fuck am I doing? Who the hell knows. Welcome to my world. Actually I think it is good. I think it helps me get much needed separation from Cleo and my house and the business and the staff and everything I had going there. I was floundering.

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Uncategorized internet cafe, intuition, Labels: city of rome, lost in rome, spiritual connections, transcendence diaries

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August 11, 2003
Lunch with one of the Germans. He is about 60 or so. A wealthy retired attorney for some large company there. he knows all these senators in the states. Speaks a few languages. Well spoken man. Interesting. He shared much with me. told me not to wait too long to get married, that the longer you wait, the more faults you find in the person, and the pickier you are, and the less you are willing or able to change of yourself. I thought this was interesting. He thinks it is really awesome what I am doing all on my own going to all these different towns where my family is from and hanging out there. I told him I could feel the places, as if I had a memory in my body of being there before. He said he agreed. It is possible. Probably DNA in our bodies that we share with our grandparents etc. Told me not to forget to go their graves to see them. A good idea. I really like the German people. They are always very nice and intelligent.  
In our afternoon conversation class we have five students. A Korean nun, a Brasilian nun, the retired German lawyer, a Ukrainian college student, a French student, and of course me, an American dilitant. It is so amazing to sit in this class and watch and listen to all of us from such different countries and backgrounds speak a new language. It is frustrating because no one can speak the other person’s native language, so this is rather difficult. We can only speak the Italian. but we find other creative ways of communicating. For example I may know some of the words in Portuguese that I can then tell the teacher what the Brasilian nun is talking about, because she uses like half Italian and half Portuguese when she speaks because they are so similar and it sounds very confusing. Or I can tell the German guy something in English and he can tell the teacher what I am trying to say because he speaks a little English etc. although we are all so different, we are all the same when we are in this class speaking Italian. it is a truly amazing experience to realize. How similar we are. Tomorrow I will talk to the Korean nun about eating cats. I would like to try cat one day.
Difficult day today. total funk kind of after speaking with Cleopatra last night and just realizing how much I am still dependent on her for things. Sometimes I sit in the shower and let the water run on me and pretend I’m dead. Then I snap out of it and pump myself back up. but it is interesting to see how sad or immobile one can get just from not hanging out with another person. But I must find ME. who am I? Without anyone else. who am I? I feel like I have spent so much of my life pretending to be something I am not. I just want to find ME. and depend on ME. and be in love with ME.
On the screen: my big fat Greek wedding. But it was in Italian. so maybe I got about a third of it. cute movie. 

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Uncategorized Labels: lost love, lunch with friends, moving on from love, transcendence diaries

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August 10, 2003

Woke up this morning at 8:03 what a glorious morning. Stayed in bed the sun pouring in slowly in this meditation. Recanting over and over again in and out of a soft sleep, “I am at one with God. I am at one with myself.” This is how I felt this morning upon awakening. The sun shining through the window and the smell of fresh sea air. 
This is nicest hotel I have stayed at yet. Not the fanciest for surely the one in Venice was that. all marble and … but the nicest, the coziest the warmest. I just feel so at home. 
One thing I will miss very much is that there is a bar in every corner and in every business etc.
But one thing I will not miss is the complete lack of bathtubs. I have not seen one bath tub in the country yet. I still sit down every morning as if I were taking a bath and just let the shower fall one me. for some reason this is an important ritual I have been doing since I was born I think. it is a meditative time for me first thing in the morning to just sit with the water running on my head and think and plan and sort of just be me. I wish I could find a bath tub. In the strange ladies house in Rome I cannot sit down because the shower is so dirty so I think that is part of what is throwing me off in Rome too. it is just so gross. 
It is 10 o’clock at night. I am so stressed. What a day. traveling all day by scooter. Then the bus and then the train to back Rome and then a long hike through the streets with my luggage trying to find the scooter place again. crazy. five hours of just traveling from one city to another which is only an hour away. would have been better if I would have rented a car. Now I am back in Rome at the strange lady’s house. Why the fuck I am here I do not know. driving here is treacherous. I have to drive up and down all these super busy highways on this little scooter. I had two big bags with me from my trip to the sea. And trying to drive with them on a scooter is stupid but I did it anyway. and this place is so far away from fucking Rome. I don’t care what they say. If its off the map, which it is—I need two maps to get here every day, then its not in Rome. So that sucks that I don’t get the Rome experience from driving to and from school every day and the worst part is that it is just so dirty and three there is all this stuff every where of this whole family that I don’t even know. their toys and their pictures and their vhs tapes etc. its really weird.

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Uncategorized Labels: don't settle for less, learning from experience, life lessons, transcendence diaries, venice

A private little world for me… a private little world for you. The online journals and musings of singer-songwriter author and activist Ed Hale. The Transcendence Diaries have been posting regularly online since 2001. Comments are always welcomed. And so are YOU.

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