Malinconia

[Belligerent Savant]

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My father, in many ways, was an idealist in his views of the world, and of humans in general. He befriended people of all races, creeds, and social status. They, in turn, always smiled heartily at the sight of him.

He often refused to dig too deeply into the sordid machinations of those that are presented as world 'leaders'.

He danced and sang until his final weeks (though he had his bouts with melancholy in his later years), when a sudden and aggressive form of cancer took him last Fall, surprisingly to all, at 72.

It was his youthful idealism that I will always admire the most.

When my brothers and I were young lads, he'd always play Italian songs for us, and record us singing along to them -- one of the first in our neighborhood with a "video recorder".

This is one of the songs I recall the most from those innocent years of my youth, and in many ways it captures the essence of his spirit.

The video reflects a bit of the kitschiness of the era, but I always distinctly recall the expression in her (the singer, Romina Power's) eyes: Earnest. Genuine. Traits shared by my father.




Ci sara’

1.
Dopo questa vita che si dimentica di te,
dopo questo cielo senza arcobaleno,
dopo la malinconia che mi prende a ogni bugia,
dopo tutta questa voglia di sereno dimmi che ci sara‘.

2.
Dopo il sogno della hawai come tutti i marinai
attraverso questo mare di cemento,
dopo un altro inverno che soffia neve su di me
che ho gia' freddo se non sono accanto a te.

Coro:
Devi crederci
Ci sara’ - una storia d'amore e un mondo migliore.
Ci sara' - un azzurro piu' intenso e un cielo piu' immenso.
Ci sara' - la tua ombra al mio fianco vestita di bianco.
Ci sara' - anche un modo piu' umano per dirsi ti amo di piu'.

3.
Dopo un oggi che non va, dopo tanta vanita'
e nessuno che ti da niente per niente.
Dopo tutto il male che c'e nel mondo intorno a te
com'e bello ritrovarti accanto a me.


English translation


1.
After this life that forgets about you,
After this sky without a rainbow,
After the melancholy that takes over me at every lie
After all this desire for serenity, tell me that there will be..

2.
After the dream of Hawaii like all the sailors
I am crossing this concrete sea
After another winter that is blowing snow on me
That I am already cold if I am not next to you

Chorus:
We must believe
There will be – a love story and a better world
There will be – blue sky more intense and a sky more immense
There will be – your shadow by my side dressed in white
There will be – also a world more human for me to say I love you the most

3.
After a today that doesn't come, after so much vanity
And nobody that gives you anything for nothing
After all the evil that is in the world around you
How beautiful it is to find you again next to me

[Belligerent Savant]

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(I considered removing the above as it was an impulsive posting based on my mood at the time and not meant as anything other than brief catharsis. But since it seems I no longer have the option to delete it, may as well leave it be.)

While I'm here, a bit more context:

My father was a self-made man; my parents arrived in this country with about $300 between them, barely conversational in broken English. As an engineer, he began a career drawing up and building custom tools and dies, while my mother stayed home (though later worked for a time in a nearby public school as a 'paraprofessional'). After saving some money they eventually invested in property -- first a 2-family house for their growing family, then later, a couple apartment buildings as a landlord.
He decided to retire in his early 50s with a pension, social security, and income from monthly rent (he later paid off the mortgages of the house we initially lived in and one of the 2 apt buildings).
They managed to to this -- at least initially -- on a middle-class income, all of which would be virtually impossible today. For the majority of Americans (outside the 1%) today, the above reads like a fairy tale.

Amazing the difference of a single generation. What may have been possible for those with modest means 30 or so years ago is now just about impossible to achieve even with an income markedly above whatever may now be considered 'middle-class'.