La legge è Uguale per Tutti

The title of this post can be translated as ‘we are all equal in the eyes of the law’ and it is the motto you will see in displayed in every Italian law court. The problem is that this is just not true.

The reason for this entry is an item I heard on the news tonight which caused my blood to effervesce a wee bit and concerned an Italian law which makes it an offence to insult a minister of religion, only, this particular law differentiated between Roman Catholic ministers and those of other religions. Offend a Roman Catholic minister and you will get a stiffer sentence than if you go and insult a minister of any other religion. Fortunately, certain judges have decided that this differentiation is unconstitutional. I think you will understand why from the motto I mentioned at the start of this entry.

Of course, as most of us mere mortals know, the law is rarely as fair as it is made out to be. There is a long running case here concerning a mother who, it would seem, killed her young son. The murder weapon has never been found, but all the evidence uncovered would seem to point towards the mother’s guilt. Despite this though, she has not yet ended up in court and most likely never will . The reason why this criminal act has never been punished seems to be that this person is a little bit more equal than the rest of us. Why would this be the case? Interesting you should ask. The reason for this excess of equality appears to be that the woman is rather well connected. In fact she seems to be connected to a person who could well end up being the next prime minister of Italy. (Eventually the mother concerned did end up in prison, and is there now.)

Another case of the slight abuse of equality relates to the time limits which exist under Italian law – to the extent that if you are not found guilty within a certain period, you can invoke a statute of limitations, and bring the accusations and other nastiness to a convenient end. To achieve this, all you need is a competent legal team and buckets full of cash. Easy. But only if your are the proud possessor of superior equality.

Update December 2009: Silvio Berlusconi possesses superior equality

Someone called Silvio Berlusconi possesses superior equality – or at least he thinks he does.  His competent legal team, which includes a politician who also happens to be his lawyer, seems to be great at ensuring court cases run on and on until they reach their ‘convict by’ dates.

Equality equals cash in bank.

Others who are unable to benefit from possessing higher than normal levels of equality will most probably find themselves sampling an all together different type of Italian cuisine, served by smiling cooks in a high security type of restaurant.  At least they will not have to worry about leaving tips.

As a general rule, not just here in Italy, your equality in the eyes of the law is pretty closely related to the size of your bank account and the capabilities of your lawyer/lawyers.

How equal are you, dear reader?

The Italian Bar

Italian bars come in many shapes and sizes, but they can be divided into two quite distinct categories – those that open in the morning and close at about the same time as the shops do – that is around 7.30 and the bars which are more akin to the English pub – except that they open in the early evening and finally close at around 2 in the morning.

There are some places which open at eight, or much earlier, in the morning and keep on going until two in the next morning, but they are not that common.

I should point out that the Italian bar is not really a pub or a bar in the American sense.  Well, the daytime versions are not.  Italian daytime bars are more like a café.  Italian bars are everywhere.  The choice is endless.  Some are exceedingly friendly, while others will be quite standoffish until you become a regular, in which case you will be treated like an old friend.  The barman in my local spots me from across the road and has my usual caffè lungo waiting on the counter!  Now that’s service!

Shortly, I’ll take you on a tour of what the daytime bars offer, but first let me say something about the atmosphere of these places.

… Continue Reading

Paying for past vices

I used to love playing my music at rather loud levels – much to the disgust of my neighbours. My stereo back in the UK was seriously powerful – so powerful that when the neighbours started hammering on the front door, I used to think it was just part of the music. Well, I was young, free and, let’s face it, pretty inconsiderate.

Well, those who live by the sword, or stereo in my case, die by it or so the old saying goes. Where I now live there is this bar which specialises in live and loud music and it just happens to back onto our appartment block. I do remember asking the former owners about the music level and remember being told that it was hardly noticeable. They were lying, big time. The music pounds away until 2 in the morning most nights and you can hear it pretty well with all the windows closed. Summer is now coming and sleeping with the windows shut here is a great way to suffocate yourself, not to mention finding yourself lying in you very own home made water bed, only the water is not water, it is your sweat. Not nice.

I will never again pay my favourite toons at unsocially loud levels, I promise. Not unless I happen to move into some isolated spot in the middle of the mountains where my own personal disco will annoy no-one.

My ex-neighbours would be laughing themselves silly if they knew just what I was having to put up with. ‘Serves himself right’, I can hear them saying. And much as I hate to admit it, they are right. My sins have caught up with me and revenge is being well and truly, if indirectly, extracted. If you happen to know anyone who is selling a secondhand time machine at a good price, let me know. I promise that I will go back and turn down the volume. Naughty me.

If you go down to the woods today…..

….you may meet one of these. I don't know if it's for real, but I do know that John Deere, the company behind the insect, do make very sensible tractors and stuff like that. Although seeing the contraption they have created seems to beg the question: Have their engineers and designers been munching a few magic mushrooms down in the depths of the woods? Programmers get involved in Open Source stuff, tractor designers, instead, go about dreaming up and building super weird beasties in their spare time.

Boy, would I love one of these things. Wouldn't it be fun to mosey on down to the supermarket in one? Or pick up the kids from school? ' Let's go for a little walk', as the words to an old song go.

If I've got you in the mood for some more examples of wierdness, why not check out this article in the Register.

What's this entry got to do with Italy? Nothing, zilch, zero – apart from the fact that it was written in the Living Museum. And, well, hey – it is MY blog!!

Parking your car – Italian style and other little problems for motorists

While hanging about waiting for the bus to arrive this morning; I was on the way to the hospital where our little one is staying; I happened to notice this rather crookedly parked car, which also sported a nice dent on one of its wings.

Well, as it happened, this car had not finished attempting to park and for me the fun was about to start. There was already one person standing around trying to direct this hapless motorist, but she was not doing a great job. First the driver thumped into the car behind. I should point out that it is quite normal here to see cars being nudged while their owners are attempting to shoehorn them into an almost suitable spot, but this driver seemed to be rather lacking in the control of the go-faster pedal department. So, having thumped into the car behind, our hero attempts to straighten out his vehicle, a newish VW Golf incidentally, and in the process thumps into the newish looking Jaguar estate which was unlucky enough to find itself in our hero’s firing line. The Jaguar rocked forwards and backwards on its suspension noticeably. Next, the Golf man tries to reverse once more and thumps the car behind once more and then finally gives up having re-thumped the poor Jag yet again for good measure. It was a sight for sore eyes and the Golf was finally abandoned by its owner parked at a slant to the pavement. If you have not already guessed, the driver was a bloke and a young one at that, thus casting to the wind all those sarcastic comments which are regularly made about drivers of the fairer sex. For my part, I found this appalling example of how not to park a car quite amusing and it put me in a much better frame of mind for entertaining baby in the hospital for a many long hours. My thanks go out to the driver in question. He was a star, although I’m not sure the owners of the other cars in his flightpath would have been so grateful to him.

Moments after the comical parking, I saw one of the tow trucks which the local police use for removing cars parked where they shouldn’t be. This particular truck was dragging a Volvo which had a foreign registration, it was from Luxembourg I believe. I started thinking about the owner’s reaction to his or her missing wheels. Your first reaction would probably be ‘Damn. It’s been stolen.’ So most people would call the Police and report it stolen. This is where little problem number 1 arises: What happens if you don’t speak Italian? I mean, you may come across a copper who speaks English, but I would not bank on it. However, this is where problem number two makes itself evident: Like, er, which police do I call? The Carabinieri, the Polizia or the Muncipal Police? Spoilt for choice you are. So, not only do you have the little problem of the language, unless you happen to know an Italian, but you may have three problems trying to explain your predicament to no less than three groups of police, of course this assumes that you know there are three different types of police here. I also ask myself whether, if you happen to make yourself understood, the Polizia will have some kind of computer network which is linked to the other two police bodies and can differentiate between a stolen vehicle and one which has simply been taken away. I could very well be wrong, but I doubt it. It’s a potential mini-nightmare situation if ever there was one.

Now, how can you avoid this type of incident? Well, seeing as the parking regulations are a bit fiddly and complex here, you could do a lot worse than find a car park. Yes, you may well pay through the nose for it, but at least you should avoid waking up to a nasty surprise in the morning and having to face trying to communicate which whichever police force you finally decide to contact first. Then there is the juicy fine you will have to pay to the kind gentlemen who took you car to a nice safe compound – this comfortably exceeds even the most expensive of car parks’ hourly rate, I do believe. And finally, leaving your four wheeled pride and joy in the relative safety of a car park will mean that your wheels will not end up meeting the gentleman who cannot park his Golf who I went on about at the beginning of this entry.

I reside in Milan, if you were not aware of this fact, and they are getting very keen here on removing cars which have been left in the wrong place and very efficient at this little labour of love too. Foreigners are not shown any mercy. You have been warned.

Three interesting facts about Italian TV

Fact 1. The main broadcasters RAI and Mediaset recently got fined for showing too many commercials.
Fact 2. Fewer people are watching it. (This fact is related to fact 1., most probably.)
Fact 3. It’s 90% crap. ( OK, so it’s not an ‘interesting’ fact, but it’s true – look at the above two facts.)