On the 24th of December, 1973, I was cleaning up after a dinner party I had held in my rented studio in Positano, Italy. I had used up the last bits of my recently deceased mother's purchases from Fortnum and Mason that evening and everyone left sated and of good cheer, promising to join me down at the cathedral on the beach for Christmas Eve mass.
Around 22:30, I descended to the street in search of my lazy whore of a Norwegian Elkhound who preferred to kip at my friend's home which was street level. I knocked at Peter's decrepit door and there was no answer. I just knew everyone from my party was just too tired to join me at church as they said they would and I started to get sore. So, I broke down Peter's door and found him in his usual resting place, the cot in his painting studio. Peter was a drunken, stuttering, New Zealand artist of tremendous charm, good looks, and some talent.
'Peter, are you coming to the Mass tonight?'
'No Willy, I, I, I'm too beat...ahhhhh'
Kristina, my Elkhound, came bounding into the studio, pink tongue dangling, happy as Larry. After futilely scouring the place for some string or rope I asked:
'Peter, I need a leash for Kristina; may I use the phone?'
Now there was an old black wall phone which hadn't been in service for 10 years and Peter in his state of mind had only heard 'may I use the phone?', to which he chuckled and stuttered:
'Oh Willy please, agh, agh, be, be, eh agh, be my guest. Aghhhh aghhh!'
I went into the hallway, took the phone, ripped it off the wall, tied the other end to Kristina's collar, and quickly left Peter's abode more of a wreck than usual.
I had the presence of mind to have brought along a bottle of Kabinett white wine and I arrived at the semicircular stone seats and walls at the entrance to the cathedral, sat down and started drinking my wine. A Carabiniere walked up to me:
'Ciao Willy, come stai?'
I told him I was great and that I was going to mass, to which he informed me it had already begun; so I gave him my bottle of wine from which he gratefully took a swig and I walked into the big church with my dog with just a black telephone in hand connecting us. Kristina and I shuffled into the pew where there was an American couple I knew - the Underwoods. Kim was this flamboyant, gay actor and ex Protestant priest who had converted to Catholicism. His wife was a petite, oblivious, meek thing who followed Kim wherever. It was just time for Holy Communion and I was a bit peckish thinking I might get me one of those wafers at the alter; so, after Kim brushed past me, I turned to Mrs Underwood and asked if she would mind holding Kristina's lead while I took Communion. Before she knew what was happening, she was holding the phone and I was off standing just behind Kim in the queue leaving Kristina perched on the wooden pew looking very dignified, and content just to be somewhere she had never been before. In the queue, I tapped Kim on the shoulder and asked, as I wasn't Catholic or anything for that matter:
'Say, Kim; do ya stick out yer tongue or hold out your hand?'
I forget what the answer was, but I'll never forget the disdain in Kim's countenance and voice. Just then, we heard a clap of thunder, then two more, then lightening - then silence. Suddenly we could all hear the howling of a disorientated Norwegian Elkhound in our darkened midst. In a flash, the lights came back on and all eyes were fixed on poor Mrs Underwood tightly gripping a black telephone in her hand, connected to a short black cord, finally connected to the source of the howling which continued a brief while longer. The woman was in shock.
It was many years before Mrs Underwood would at least nod when we passed on the streets of Positano. The Positanese had known me and put up with my escapades over a long period - since 1968; so, in 2000, when it had been ten years since I'd last been there, I was amazed the reception I got. My companion remarked
'Will, they all love you; I can see it in their eyes'.
Oh, pshaw; but, I couldn't argue it. These people young and old accepted me as one of their own after all the crap I pulled in my history there. This brings me to the reason I share this episode in my life, to cap off the last article which showed some of the reasons humans don't deserve to be on this planet. You see, after all is said and done, humans can be very noble creatures in their capacity for forgiveness and love; so there is justification for our existence.
I wish you forgiveness and love for 2006. But, like the song says 'love is all ya need -ta-ta-da-da-da'.