Thursday evening, an evening of culture and the beautiful music of the concert was Lollipop .
Bwahahahahahahaha, no, no, just kidding, of course, put away the cleavers.
I went through and pushed the company of the always excellent Nico, to feel Ludovico Einaudi, I did not know of a club, except that the surname of an editor and a president of the republic (which I found to be all and three relatives).
I like the piano, and the concert was very pleasant, although it seemed a bit 'short (and I know that Nico will say that it is the fault of the Tuscans who do not ask for an encore, but you could also take some more to the base, I would say) is the only demerit of note was the "room" is used: the already mentioned "Theater of the rocks of Gavorrano" . How to spot, is very suggestive, and I appreciate the fact that it is necessary to achieve it, however, plenty of shoes for a mile on a dirt path that climbs along the side of the mountain (a little 'working it should be, then it's fun to count the exit slips), but I think the steps raised too uncomfortable, and the jacket was not enough to protect my Terga the angularity of the rocks so I spent the night to change position, bending low legs, propped against the riser behind, taking positions yoghistiche, meditative and even kamasutriane, while giving peace to my backside.
All this tirade, which may seem a plethora of uselessness, is actually the crux of the matter, which I have Busillis veiled anticipation in the title. As
, his ears still saturated with minor notes, when we arrived in front of my house, where Nico was back on the road to Pisa, here is the unexpected: no house keys. As in a sit-com, dialatano my eyes, the look is lost at the top, and part of the flashback: as I was turning over the stones type sausage fire, perhaps I have not heard for a while, a jingle, that the subconscious has the ears and the excluded in the midst of the "background noise"?
I'm sure, I have to go to the theater to avoid reprisals at home: back on the road, parking lot across near the exit: to see the car, and avoid closing the gate with you and me inside, so I travel the mini marathon that separates me from the arena (actually running the first 10 meters, the rest in a state between the quick pace and emphysema). There I find the group of workers who dismantle the stage and two fighters who watch it all: tell them, between a whistle and squeal effusion, the reason for my presence and I run in my place stepped on: nothing. They reach even the guardians of the traffic to give me a hand with a torch, but did not find anything. Reminded of the terrible doubt that the keys are lost in transit between the parking and the theater, along which the machine acts as my escort of the "iron", and fortunately, that half-way off the lights ( Nico was very appreciated the poetry of the walk in the light of stars in the bush , but if you're looking for the keys to fuck, you see!). However, the lights of the glittering point gavorranese not reveal neither the path nor the parking lot, so turn back, hoping that the deck has been found and handed over the entrance to the theater or in common, and not without some cursing between his teeth, I would refer the streets with empty-handed and soft legs, do this trail 4 times in one evening, two of which quickly, this is not for me. At least, in the excitement, I remembered that my mother has devised a way to enter the house if you lose the keys, though, being convoluted that even the villains of the 007, I repeat a bit 'vaguely, so I can return Defeat the awakening and sending back a day after the controversy, and here's the unexpected number two on my right, and put in place, my keys. I had left there.
