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Interview with Julian Ross

Julian Ross greets the audience

In the 80's was the idol of millions of kids around the world. Today is here with us for an exclusive interview. Ladies and gentlemen: Mr. Julian Ross ! Mauro Pes

: "First I want to thank Julian for having accepted my invitation ..."
Julian Ross: "I am happy be here. I still have many fans in Italy ... "
Mauro Pes: " I guess mostly women ... "
Julian Ross: " Er yes (ride ndr), but not only ... "
Mauro Pes: " And Jenny who says? "
Julian Ross: " Well, sometimes I make a scene, but then everything falls ... On the other hand we are now happily married. "
Mauro Pes: " You are with Domenico Morfeo you are considered the largest untapped talent of the last thirty years ... What have you to say to your defense? "
Julian Ross: "Well, you know very well that I had some serious heart problems early in my career ..."
Mauro Pes: "Indeed, indeed I would like you to know that I have always considered a cut above in Oliver Hutton. I mean, if I had not had that problem you would have picked up Mambo and much more ... "
Julian Ross: " Thanks, you're too kind Mauro. Unfortunately there is no rebuttal ... "
Mauro Pes: " But fortunately recovered, and then you have resumed your career. Your case closely resembles that of Nwankwo Kanu, the Nigerian Inter striker ... "
Julian Ross: "Yes it's true. I also know him, an amazing guy ... "
Mauro Pes: " Speaking of amazing guy: Are you still in touch with other players of the past? "
Julian Ross: " No, I often see some fellow the Mambo, but in reality has been lost that round. We last met three years ago at the funeral of Lenders ... "
Mauro Pes: " E 'dead Mark Lenders ? "
Julian Ross: " Yeah, moved to take a knife due to a parking lot ... A bad story, there was bad blood between us, but in the end Mark was a good boy ... "
Mauro Pes: " That 's what I always thought too, but let's get back to you. During your long career in football do not you ever contacted anyone from Italy? "
Julian Ross: " Yes, in fact, in the mid-nineties was a visionary of some observers of Perugia Gaucci: they seemed to be impressed by my performance. So I sent my agents in Italy, but when they were Gaucci did not find ... "
Mauro Pes

Julian Ross from the sun

: "Too bad. Today, what do you do? Are you still connected to the world of football? "
Julian Ross: " I honestly do not. Just stopped playing I thought about a career as a coach, but then I felt a strong desire to break away from this world, so that gave me, but then I took off. Today I filled the taster for sweets and I feel totally fulfilled! "
Mauro Pes: " I guess. About Julian, I know there's a private plane waiting for you, because tomorrow you have a business meeting is very important to Tokyo. So do not you go over and hug you from all your Italian fans! "
Julian Ross: " Not too hard eh? I went away I would not want any heart valve ... (laughs heartily ed.) Among other things, it's true, tomorrow I have a very important undertaking: I have to test a new stuffed with anise and rose hips to a famous producer of sugar-free marshmallows, so I thank you and welcome all friends from home. "

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Life is a dollar of 'Prospects of honor

(That is, we are all "Boraciòn" *)

Dude / Dean Martin

Barba to do, stumbled and handful of dust in his underwear, we are so many little dude "Boraciòn" of Dean Martin in modern look of its Rio Bravo and move forward like some silent shadows of Indians, crossing streets and porches in search of answers and redemption. Yes, because we have just sketched a family, a job to defend tooth and to maintain a dignity intact, but life has spoiled us with his revelry, with its undue excesses, and now we have to deal with the reality of facts and with a future fatally predicted by a double-breasted banker. Yet we go forward, with clenched teeth, with a lump in my throat that will never melt, and a fist full of anger and pride solver who sway hugging jeans.

Stumpy / Walter Brennan

But we are not alone. No, not really. Apart from a small window without light, there is a crippled old man who, broom in hand, cheering for us, emphasizing and exalting himself. "It has nothing in the stomach. Only courage. " supports the dear old Stumpy / Walter Brennan at one point de " Rio Lobo " (Rio Bravo in the U.S. version), accompanied with his croaking voice a Dude / Dean Martin as we advance, finally head high, toward an unknown fate. A deputy sheriff's destiny and no longer by "Boraciòn" any.

Yes, because we all have the right to a petulant Gramps "Stumpy" who accompany us at every step with the sleek look and pointed the gun, that even while we are going to stand guard at Burdette or a mortgage thirty years. We all have a right to a better groomed and some deep feeling every now and then, a slap and a caress, no matter where they arrive. We all have the right to be wrong, of collapse, staggering to think again and go back on our feet as the "Boraciòn" Dude: a loser hero.

* boraciòn / Dude nickname given to the Mexicans because of its dedication "to drink"

Rio Bravo / Rio Lobo

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beyond

A Japanese symbol that does not remember anything, just useless tiny serial numbers and dozens of screws, if you're good to see them. The back of an LCD screen leaves you only to consult with yourself. A wonder if all those cables can also act as fuses. To turn the eyes in climbing ivy or a lone climber. Of those with bare hands.

The fact is that with you the other side, the screen reminds me of those pictures as a hairpiece that hide the safe. He has the desire to deviate from the first moment, but you end up with let's eyes, blinded by their ugliness desirable. So it is with me in front of this gray plastic that evil is contrary to my eyes. I'd pay for a quick peek. The rest is half an hour I try to intrude without success. To me you'll stay a pink sweater and a hand on the mouse shell. With the tips of your hair and brown wool on the enamel without long fingernails scratching the air.

And if now you ask where is the bathroom? Maybe you tick threatening to the wall as the fin of a great white shark for a walk in the ocean. I cut the legs, which are already paying for shaking my stupid shyness. Besides, then you need to point the finger to turn me into an inert doll sbrodolante and purple in the middle of the corridor. In both cases touch me drag me to the bathroom crushed by the weight of yet another defeat. Yet I feel I have to, something moves me. It is not courage, but even the bladder.

Second door on the right. Your words came as a timely and accurate that some stone thrown by a boy. Soon there's not that I came down into pieces like a glass plug in full launch. You did not move. The eye has been glued to the screen. The fingers were not taken down by the mouse. And now I'm here, alone, to repent before the mirror. The smell of soap mixed with a faint smell of urine. The water goes down slowly to the tube. The light that leaves me every thirty seconds. And then I should not gnash their teeth. Which teeth?

The return to the seat is quickly and quietly. Mesto like walking behind a coffin. The time to remember and review of your pins chew your hair. Who knows who had done him wrong. Well, what does it matter? Whatever the reason I will stay here mulling over myself. On my clumsiness. On my cowardice. I have the feeling to sink slowly in five centimeters of foam that I have under the seat, but the intercom beep me shake all over and almost fall off the chair.

Moments after entering the lock emits a nice metallic click and the door slowly swings open. An old man with a set of dentures floating in a transparent bag comes in and closes it if the shoulders. My eyes see the child struggling with a goldfish just won priced. My eyes must not be much. He looks at me puzzled and say all is good.

Do not worry we are only at the dentist he says. Already

the dentist.

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Cabaret Voltaire

E 'finally on-line " Cabaret Voltaire", the cultural magazine of Corriere Vicentino . I recommend sfogliatelo, download it, print it and read it.

Among the many pieces there is also one of my own: "Life is a dollar of honor." You'll find it at the end next to that big man John Wayne!

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San Crispino forever / Final

Read previous parts

Part III (Grand Finale)

head girl in the vineyard of Botticelli

The final stage of spot is a veritable crescendo of emotions. The first series is the appearance of fine lavanderina converted to harvesting by the absurd logic of the evil corporate factor. Smurf hat in hand, she is a beautiful view and also seems to give a lot of trouble with experience handling a bunches of grapes weighing at least 5 kg. However, in reality few people know that she represents the transposition of television "Head of a girl on the vine" less work by Botticelli. Work that does not seem to be particularly enjoyed by the painter himself, who had repeatedly tried to set it on fire by rubbing with fingertips, not only without ever succeeding, but putting a brutal end to his great career. Icon cursed and then come to the speaker.

"It gives us good grapes!" strongly supports the girl, even if, in the frame later, a bearded little man wields it as if doubtful in the hands of a baboon excrement.

Fortunately

carts are already full and beautiful three thousand peasants, finally fell from their trunks naticizzati, the cry of "The last pay to drink!" Three thousand drive their tractors to the farm, blessed by the eye invisible San Crispino . The first to arrive at the courtyard of a former tenant's double TG1 and Kabir Bedi with knowledge that reflect the linguistic puzzle that has lasted throughout the spot.

"The door to the San Crispino" says former conductor of the TG1

"What makes a good wine! " echoes the double of Kabir Bedi attaching the shoulder of fellow vintage.

Now the spot is considered final by all, including the director, but the grandfather's Ectoplasm have something to say. Hath been delivered of the child with a stick behind the ears and can look with optimism and serenity to its future. A purely spiritual future.

"A wine for all!" Says looking in my eyes the cameraman, while his smile widening taste sofficino magically change slowly in an enviable teeth tomato & nostalgia. (End)

sofficino The smile of his grandfather: "Tomatoes and Nostalgia"

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San Crispino forever / Part

Read the first part

Part Two (The factor Farm)

At this point the die is cast, and grandfather is petrified because she knows well that will have to await the end of the spot to say something else just as deep and above all they must do it with that of his nephew breaks chestnuts. Yes, it is unlikely to break free from the power of those little hands smeared boogers and nutella and just as unlikely to hope for an early death for investment. The road is not there in front of the A4 motorway, in fact it is not even on maps, is a simple furrow in time by divine studded tires of St. Crispin. Therefore futile to hope for the grandfather in some other transit van.

The line then goes to a kind of thin that Bud Spencer sitting on the hood of a tractor exclaims

"We are more than three thousand!"

Three thousand farmers all sitting on the hood of a tractor from morning to night, because it is obvious from the image next to work only three old men, who come back tired and sweaty from the fields to which they had left early to get dead tired at three in the afternoon . Fortunately, after a worker enters a real, and possible wife of Bud Spencer thin, sitting on a stool which bombards the hens with bread crumbs and saliva. Bread and saliva? Yes On the other hand, the woman says "cultivate the land" , not we feed the chickens.

Hens that are the sole support of another old man who appears smiling soon after. Not so much for the hens in itself, but because to him the bread crumbs with saliva like crazy. In fact, outside shot makes hoarding hiding (the Chip & Dale) in the hollow of a tree trunk. (Continued)

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San Crispino forever / Part

A clear sign of changing times is undoubtedly the fact that when you replace the advertising and you're forced rifarti idea of \u200b\u200ball: the product, and the actors used in commercials, soundtracks and so on and so on. All this obviously takes quite a commitment of time and assimilation, which may vary from person in person, but are often inversely proportional to the age of who is in front of the television screen: the grandmothers are often faster than their grandchildren because of time spent in front of the carousel fossilize commercials of all time slots.

After this enlightening explanation (or slop) without pseudo-source (who knows maybe one studietto across the Channel have also done ...) and not clinically tested on anyone back on the right path for you to note that recently we lost those two bontemponi of San Crispino . Like what? The two guests on Sunday, those who fall in the middle room in the basement to get the wine. Cardboard.

"But you keep the brick in the wine here?" Said host to host finding surprised that they held the cardboard wine aging in place.

"Eh, is a wine taste ... hear that! "replied the wise the landlord failing to be polite and menacing at the same time, in style " Misery .

These two have given way to something much more artistic. In a spot that seems to come out straight from the Italian Renaissance . The you've no doubt seen, but I will describe the same through my child's eyes thirty.

Part One (The child's grandfather el'ectoplasma)

The child comes running. Despite the heat. Despite the hellish stench of fermentation. Despite the dozens of flies that are squashed in the tonsils. He saw the van of St. Crispin and end of the world wants to be the first to warn his grandfather.

"Grandpa, Grandpa is San Crispino" yells in timpani snatch the bell Amplifon that always surrounds a mo 'of plastic wrap.

His grandfather, taken aback by the attack-bite child-van, immediately becomes colored by fear and mozzarella burst instantly if it were not already dead in 1981, hit by a cart of Robiola Osella crazy. Raising his eyes from shooting ectoplasm actually see San Crispino speed past with the sunglasses and the arm out the window of the van and can not help but show off a smile sofficino & cheese taste bitterness while some incoherent words to come out unconsciously of mouth:

"It 's our wine said before taken in full from the dust of the holy divine unleashed from the van. (Segue!)

1

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The meaning of the word "help"

Friday night. A quarter to nine or so.

get down to empty the garbage and I see a car stop. Beyond the road. Straddling the sidewalk.

Inside there is none. I look better. There are some. It 's a shrunken old man sitting in the back seat. It looks like a mannequin. A mannequin with no arms who is about to be thrown out. The car is a Opel Kadett. I wonder how I came to recognize it. I do not know, but I'm sure it is an Opel Kadett . Of gray. A gray made from the dark night.

let go of the bag and rest stop at the gate ajar. I look up the house lights on. The mirage of a sofa through my mind. Then I return the car. Man, if a man is still there. I wonder what the exact meaning of the word help. If still worth something to me. Then I turned and briskly through the deserted road.

No. Deserted not. The passage of a cat surprises me on the right. Slips on the pavement, scale a high fence of bricks and not see him again.

Now the Opel Kadett in front of me. A few steps away. The old does not seem to have seen me. E 'property. Something is covering his head. A hat. No. A cap. A cap from which sprout a nose and two lips clearly tightened. It 's a bathrobe? No. It 's a habit. A dark cloak that goes down along the body. I stand on the sidewalk. The cold air stings my feet. Slippers and socks are not enough. Should I get closer. Tour around the car. One, two times. Man's gaze is fixed into the unknown. And the unknown is a dead end between the light fields. I look to the house. E 'close, but I feel a thousand miles away. The light is still on. Waiting for me. I knock at the window. I hear the sound of bone against the glass. Busso stronger. Of even more. I pull the door handle. E 'is closed, as all the others. The old man is locked inside.

The word "help" is pumping through my temples. The heart beats trying rhythms unknown. I leave the pavement and back across the street. A small step, but quick as those of the cat. I look up at home. The light is turned on and off before my eyes. Then something lifts me up. I feel nothing. Slammed to the ground between the trash. Raining glass and smoldering shreds. Stars. No.
"Help".
"Help".
Or the meaning of the word help.

help

[a-ver-to]

A sm

1 rescue operations or assistance to those in difficulty or danger: a. material and moral, ask, ask, call a. someone, in the. someone, give, give, give a., a a. to someone, run, come in. someone, does not want help from anyone

‖ action helpers: a a. decisive

‖ A collection of material resources provided to those who are in a state of great need: food aid, cash

‖ What that brings relief, comfort, I need a small a.

Vocabulary Workshop E Review Units 4-6

Interview with John Wayne and Sara

First I would like to thank Mr. Wayne for accepting my invitation to be here with us tonight.

John Wayne: "Ah, I who thank you Mauro. It 'a long time that someone asks me for an interview!" Mauro Pes

: "I know Mr. Wayne, but I want you to know I'm a big fan ever since I was a child, and that is why it is truly an honor guest in my humble blog. I still do not I can not believe it! "

John Wayne: "Nonsense Mauro! But call me John, I do not like formality." Mauro Pes
: "Well, then: like you want John! I would not make you angry ... However let me tell you that you speak Italian really a perfect ... "

John Wayne from my old magazine

John Wayne: " Ah thanks Mauro , you're too kind. The Italian taught me Dean Martin (born Dino Paul Crocetti, ed) on the set of "Rio Lobo" and since then I do not have most forgotten. Besides, nowadays if you do not know the language "you're dead!" Mauro Pes
: "Yeah John, but tell me you are frequently in Italy?"
John Wayne: "Every now and then. I bought an old prison here in Vicenza and sometimes I go there to see if it is still standing." Mauro Pes
: "For obvious reasons I do not ask where exactly, but tell me, is still standing?"
John Wayne: "Eh?" Ah yes, you can swear. I was there just yesterday to install two solar panels on the roof I was arcistufo to wash with cold water ... " Mauro Pes
: "I still much to be done by John."
John Wayne: "Oh you never stop working, there is always something to do ..." Mauro Pes
: "What idea have you tried our country? If you've taken a course ... "
John Wayne: " Italy? Well, it's a wonderful country in many respects. Too bad there is no room for cattle and horses in the wild ... "
Mauro Pes: " His name is John reckless. "
John Wayne: " Wild eh? I could "make a good film ..."
Mauro Pes: "John would be great. And the events linked to Premier Berlusconi did you get that idea? "
John Wayne: " I do not know Mauro, I heard about it, but I have not followed the whole thing ... Berlusconi had known at the time of TeleMilano, but I have not had contact with him ... "
Mauro Pes: "And I ask you why you had contacted?"
John Wayne: "Of course! Wanted to offer to become the human image of the issuer. At one point it was all done: we shot some pilot episodes of a quiz game that I had to submit, but then all jumped in the air and I replaced Mike Bongiorno. " Mauro Pes
: "Oh yeah, Well, speaking of Mike Bongiorno. You will certainly hear that they have stolen from the cemetery where his coffin lay ..."
John Wayne: "Of course I knew. AND 'frightening, but are you sure that there are no Indians around here?" I remember it was a tribe that's cooked and of raw ... "
Mauro Pes: " No, there are Indians around here John. Not least of the kind ... "
John Wayne: " I thought ... You know with globalization, today ... However, I am made another idea on the death of Mike ... "
Mauro Pes :" And can you tell us to? "
John Wayne: " Sure! Are you quite sure that not too lacking in some old ladies addicted to television? I were you I would look for in nursing homes, hospices ... You will see that you find it. After all, those people need company and without him it is no longer the same ... Or am I wrong? "
Mauro Pes: " Maybe not John, maybe you're wrong at all, but in the end: who am I to say that John Wayne is wrong? "
(more?)