There were seven of us stuffed into
\na Volkswagen, the old kind because
\nthis was the fifties, and we were college
\nstudents. The girl I was sitting under
\nin the back seat was telling us that olives
\nare an aquired taste: either you like them
\nor you don’t, and I, never having pondered
\nso weighty an issue (this was my Petersen
\npipe-smoking period, and I was puffing
\nand relighting very aromatic rum-soaked tobacco)
\nrealized I could come down on either side
\nand made a decision I have never regretted:<\/p>\n
I really like olives<\/p>\n
Now, at night, when I need something
\nto take the edge off, I slide a teaspoon
\ninto the tub of stuffed queen olives
\nadrift in their flavoured olive oil
\nand soon am munching on one-two-three-four
\nluscious salty juicy greeny pimento olives
\nwhich have for me all the delicious
\nsatisfaction that attends to eating
\nripe brie and marmalade
\nor sausages and saurkraut
\nwithout any of the guilt.<\/p>\n
olives don’t just satisfy hunger
\nthey satisfy travel and exploration
\nyearnings as well: they take me
\nback in my imagination to Tuscany
\nto the little store that sold
\nopalescent olive oil and wine
\nmade in their own vinyards
\nand I can remember walking along the
\nmountainside road near the villa
\nwe were renting near Castellina in Chianti
\nI remember the yellowish gravel,
\nthe little sign we often saw outside each farm
\n“Vin Sante” and that was the drink
\nfor Sundays with hard little biscotta
\nof course there were the elegant cyprus trees
\nso typical of Italy and the rows of vines
\nand olive trees and a kind of millennial peace
\nthat just hung over the place as it seems to
\nover any farming countryside.<\/p>\n
Some early life decisions are good<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There were seven of us stuffed into a Volkswagen, the old kind because this was the fifties, and we were college students. The girl I was sitting under in the back seat was telling us that olives are an aquired … Continue reading