Coffee Date

This morning, I had an inter-continental conversation with Dolores, an American friend who, along with her life-partner, Scott, became expats and have made Assisi, Italy, their permanent home for the past two years. I had received a text from one of my dearest local friends just moments before.  My friend wanted to know of my "schedule" for the next week so that we could set up a date to have coffee together. I cherish times with this beautiful woman and of course I will set something up. Do not get me wrong, I am not finding fault in her quest. It's lovely to know that someone wants to share time. But, I did comment to Dolores about how odd this request would be in a small Italian town such as Assisi. Her answer was one that affirmed that I live on "Italian Time", yet another reason why she and Scott think I am away from home, most of the time.

On Italian Time, pre-arranged coffee dates rarely exist. If they do, the occurrence will most likely be happening very soon. Perhaps tomorrow morning, or maybe this very afternoon. But, to look at next week's schedule, that would not make sense.  To actually write in an agenda book "Have coffee with so-and-so at such-and-such time",  ehhh, no.  The selection of a venue also would not be considered.  One knows these things. And rarely does one have to assign a time in advance. One also knows this.

My ex-pat friend reminded me of that sweet part of life in which things are simply assumed. Coffee in the morning? Just find us at "The Sisters" (I know who she means) and join us. No need to ask about time. I know, you know, and everybody else knows. Time hasn't the same meaning. Or, is it that the reference point is so very different. Want coffee? We're there. I love not having to get into a car for a "coffee date".  If later in the day, an aperitivo might replace a coffee. And we all know where we all will be. No need to rush to or from. Today, you pay. Tomorrow, I pay. And if that doesn't happen. So what? Bene bene.

I live in an area of the country that is heavily populated by people who have retired from their life's work.  Bragging rights seem to emanate from the ability to announce that one is "happily retired" and that alarm clocks are no longer needed. The words "what I want" and "whenever I want" seem to dance out of mouths of the newly-no-longer-employed. Yet, it doesn't take very long for the very same people to acquire new bragging rights. "I'm so busy" seem to be the words that everyone wants falling out of their mouths within a month of kicking their way home from the Rat-Race. Very soon, they enter into yet another race. The "Who's the Busiest" race. They also alter the whole perception of what it means to be "busy" and tend to start in some fashion, to make judgement calls based upon who can be the busiest. They even stop their impulse to spend un-scheduled time with a friend who has been assessed as "very busy"to the point of never being invited to do something considered mundane. That friend, who may be so, so busy, would not possibly want to take five, right? The wheel spins on and on. And, who would want to be thought of as "un-busy"? Must be something terribly wrong with that person.

There have been lots of studies surrounding the question of why Italians live longer than Americans. Certainly, the Mediterranean diet gets a lot of credit but, it's not the one specific factor. So much is being written about the other key factors, the contributors to a longer life expectancy than we have here in the U.S. or in the U.K. In the literature, decreased stress and increased physical activity or small-town Italian residents factor as huge contributions. Having stated that, I will venture forth with a guess that the lack of schedule-induced stressors might very well be part of the equation and that simply being available to spend time with a friend, old or new, might be one of the ingredients that our American diet is lacking. 

Food for thought.