“When … the … moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, … that’s amoré”
‘That’s Amoré’ - lyrics by Harry Warren 1953
In the 50s, aside from his comedic shenanigans partnering with slapstick sidekick Jerry Lewis, Dean Martin was famous for crooning this classic pop hit. So whether it’s Neapolitan, deep dish Chicago, or New York style, pizza is on the short list of everyone’s favorite comfort food. In That’s Amoré, the pie was deemed a lunar projectile delivering a payload of love. Tapping onto pizza’s versatility, I made use of it as modeling a life in transition, mine.
How so, you ask? Here’s the scenario…..
Once the exit strategy for closing out my forty year career in periodontics was set, I needed a way to break the news to patients. Many of them had faithfully been coming to my office since Day One. Even those with fewer years of allegiance believed my staff and I would be there, like forever, and wondered what’s next for me.
Maureen, Ana, Me, Deborah, and Rosemary |
The answer I gave was to consider my whole persona as a pizza with three slices - one for professional pursuits, i.e., practice and teaching, a slice for expressing artistry, primarily photography, and one devoted to family and community. With career retirement approaching, the size of the practice slice would begin shrinking. But guess what, the other two slices would get bigger. When the practice door eventually closed signaling Time to Go had arrived, the two other slices would then comprise the whole enchilada, or pie in this case. My Chapter II Encore would then officially begin. Of course this new pie would still be divided into more pieces as additional slice options undoubtedly presented.
Sometimes Time to Go arrives in a much shorter, less mathematical fashion.
Sylvie |
Special moments with my granddaughter Sylvie after a weekly pre-school class come to mind. At school, just before the closing bell sounded, kids would sit cross-legged in a circle for a parting song. Then with a “so long for now” to her beloved teacher, we went for lunch at Sylvie’s favorite place, Bertuccio’s, aka Bertucci’s to most folks. No need for a menu, her regular lunch choice - kid’s pizza, chocolate/vanilla Hoodsie & wooden spoon, lemonade (always cut with water to avoid an afternoon sugar buzz), and crayons for placemat embellishing. You might think that with all cheesy parts of pizza consumed and Hoodsie scraped clean, it was time to call for the check and head home.
It wasn’t.
As long as unadorned areas of placemat remained, there was always more coloring to do. And there was still more. With our weekly lunchtime ebbing away, Sylvie pivoted attention to the scattered arcs of now cheese-free pizza crusts. Once all were carefully placed on the pie plate’s perimeter and transformed into a ‘carbohydrate clock with big and little hand crayons', we knew then it was Time to Go.
Arrivederci.
Twelve ten or two PM? - either way it was Time to Go |
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Special thanks to my friend Gail for reminding me of the pizza slice story during a recent dinner get together with other good friends.
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