Bad Rice!! Bad Rice!!

When I was a teenager, I saw a film called Love is a Many Splendored Thing.  It starred Jennifer Jones and William Holden (he was a teenage crush).  It was a three-handkerchiefs-movie.  Set in 1949-1950 Hong Kong,  it tells the story of a married  but separated American reporter (played by Holden, who falls in love with a Eurasian doctor originally from Mainland China (played by Jennifer Jones), only to encounter prejudice from her family and from Hong Kong society.  Of course it has a tragic ending: Bill Holden dies in a plane crash, and the drawn-out final scenes elicit sobs.  In one of the happier love-scenes, Jennifer Jones -- in an attempt to keep the gods from envying their love -- stands on their hilltop and shouts:  "Bad rice! Bad rice."  Apparently, this is how the farmers protected their crops.  I believe all cultures have superstitious tricks to fool the jealous gods.  My grandma used to spit three times if someone admired one of us children.  

My Italian aunt tied red ribbons to the baby carriages.  There are any number of spells to avoid the evil eye.  Little bags of various herbs, necklaces or rings of particular gemstones (depending on the protection needed); even a rabbit's foot used for luck. 

All of this is prelude to answering a question posed daily to me these past few weeks:  Aren't you excited about your trip???  (That would be my birthday week in Italy.)  I answer, "Sure."  But they don't believe me because I'm not frenetic about it.  Well, it's a case of "Bad rice!  Bad rice!"  I'm psyched; I'll get excited when I'm standing in the airport in Rome --    My friend Dennis says he's never excited about a trip until he gets there.  My friend Bobbie, who's been teaching me how to pronounce Italian phrases so they might actually be understood in Italy took me to dinner last evening to my favorite North End restaurant Antico Forno.  The dinner was celebratory; the rule was that I had to order in Italian.  And I did!  Of course,  none of the wait staff were Italian or understood the language.  That didn't matter after a glass of vino rosso!  I guess my useless point is that if I get really excited now, when I get there I'll have spent all the emotion.  I will have used it up.  But going one day at a time, enjoying the approach of the holiday, will make it last that much longer.  And I will be carrying a little black velvet bag that hides in my purse; it holds several good luck charms.  That and a couple of valium to get me on the plane. I'm still looking for a pair of good walking shoes!