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and I remember the line I remember

Carousel was not advertising. It was my evening rendezvous with Caballero and Carmencita, with Calimero, with Tweety and Sylvester, the children who jumped on the mattress and sang bidibodibù, but above all, with that fantastic character who spoke an incomprehensible language and shaped by the same line on which he walked unabated. It was he, Linea. I called him the magic man. He was talkative, fickle, if you took it all. He had a loud laugh and a contagious and a shrill voice with which to communicate even with his designer to whom you could see the hand that intervened only to supplement or to disrupt the adventures of line. Along the way (in the unending search for Lagostina cookware, add in hindsight), succeeded him in all colors: The object fell on him, he found musical instruments, guns, planes. And that hand was always there, ready to redesign that an accident had taken away (the nose or foot) or draw what line required. I did not understand what he wanted, then, but I was fascinated by his language, by his anger, his way of communicating with the gentleman who, lucky him, he could understand the words that the little man Magic's whispering in your ear. Once, just finished the carousel, my mother told me that if I went straight to bed I would see something "secret". Then he turned off the television and made me look at that bright dot in the center of the screen remained dark. He told me that was the magic man who was falling asleep too. Slowly, that dot is getting smaller because he was closing his eyes ... and we had to plan ... and go to sleep ... otherwise we would have woken up ... I protested, waving his arms just as the magic man, saying I was high and that did not believe her. And I went to bed, muttering. During the night I got up. I went to living room on tiptoe, careful not to wake anyone. And said goodnight to the television. I remember Pannonian

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I remember AltoGradimento beautiful and poor transmission radiofonica.Caldissime days of August, irretrievable row from the sea to return home. Final block at the Air Force and there, the explosion of Pa Pa Chiappala Chiappala Scarpantibus and misadventures of prof. Aristogeiton and galactic adventures of Raimundo Navarro sent into space and forget about them. And then the music. It was the only place where they passed groups more or less impossible: The Squallor with was 38 July and a group of which I Pandemonium would like to know the ...... I remember Spalluzza

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Sandokan

I remember when TV began broadcasting on Sandokan Sollima lost all control. I read and reread the books of Sandokan, I traveled on those pages so virulent that the idea of \u200b\u200bseeing a television transposition of the story upset me. And I began to follow the series episode after episode in a state of elation that I had never tried before. It was a constant stress: the Tiger of Malaysia, the sampan, Yanez, bad Brook, the parang and kris Malaysian tigers, praha full of soldiers, Mompracem, the Pearl of Labuan, the forest, which Giro Batol before his death takes away a squad of soldiers Brook, fat and big Sambigliong. It was an extremely strong.

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I remember I remember the mangiadischi of Lesa

blue and white. With roller black to adjust the volume and a red lever that served to move the rate from 45 to 33 laps. Perhaps even called Lady or something like that. Ate tirelessly discs. Before those Fairytale Fabbri Editori, which is invariably closed with the song ".... the disk clicks and you will see a bit of 'stop .... stop ...." and then the REAL music! The 45 laps of the 70. The disk was pushed slightly and .... disappeared inside. Ate. And you wondered, what now? Now part of the story fascinating. First on one side and then ..... Push the button and turn black for what will be the end. Push the black button and you hear another. The red lever allowing you to create magical effects, the sweet voices that told the stories about 45, became the strange deep voice at 33. I could hear the old records of my mother and my father who still cherish: Aurelio Fierro, and many others of which I do not remember the name. You could take it anywhere, thanks to its handle, which also served as support and thanks to the huge pile "torches" huge, round and heavy. But we will use again? My mangiadischi Lesa still works!! I remember Spalluzza

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I remember I remember Papa Luciani

I ... yes eleven and a half. Of popes and Vatican I was never interested much. My parents sent him to church, because "it did so" My mother was and is a believer and practitioner (although I struggle to understand what it means for her) while my father as a good communist did not understand the meaning and hunt on the church abuse DC and whenever there was occasion. Well, I mean, Paul VI had died. Never mind: the gray, the flatness ... the church in its conception "oldest" (ie, old). Nothing particularly interesting: a little 'as usual, frequent elections. But then ... the conclave. My first conclave. I was on vacation in the mountains of Piedmont, including a task for the holidays and an afternoon in my first games room, among all those computers that have captivated me. And here's the new Pope Mom, but this Pope is smiling. Everyone says, is a different Pope. It 's a good new Pope (also because the other, who had known him?). How nice to hear about the Pope It 's a good person. He speaks in plain language, makes you feel good even children. He says so many beautiful things, many good things. He would also disrupt the IOR and the intrigues of the church (understood in a negative sense), in addition to latinorum, I would have understood only many years later that summer but I was really pleased. For the first time the church "had a meaning, a reason to exist." Ma .. how? E 'dead? But how may be dead? After all ... a month? No. .. Already are a fan of Taurus, and lasted just beautiful things I mean. They poisoned him "they said. They made it out. Boh. The short and smiling parable of Albino Luciani was something I went straight to the heart, that beginning in autumn 1978. I remember JoinMe

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Games Without Borders

swimming, fun games, competition, European cities, summer. So I remember, in short, the Games without Borders. As I was born were already on the air, and went on for many years. The teams of European cities and towns will compete in each episode tests involved in imaginative, often with the use of water, and puppets, foam, balloons and scenery. It was an international challenge, this was what effect. And then there were the judges, the historic ones: Gennaro Olivieri and Guido Pancaldi. After hours of time may seem like two idiots, but back then there were two types of armed ganzissimi whistle when announcing the File Rouge There was not laughing. Why, after all, us kids those fun races, unconventional and just made for the summer heat, after all, we lived as the serious challenges. And, I remember, my favorite announcer was Rosanna Vaudetti.

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I remember the PC ... I remember the first beat

PC beat ... I'll be shot! 25 years, a quarter of a century .... This year marks the 25th anniversary of the introduction of the Personal Computer. Today there is more the case, all the PC call, the "box of wonders" that we lit in front of us and makes us as a window on the world. But not until the IBM launched the XT model (in 1981 exactly) the computer was a monster. My first experience of computers date back to (sigh) 1976 or 77 when I was a student of Engineering. So for me the computer (in fact, the calculator, note the capital C) that car was great (you do realize that would come barely in your living room) and a bit 'scary which were part cardboard cards properly and that prick in a few hours (yes, I said hours) was able to perform the calculation in Fortran structural complex of buildings. A machine that could afford to own only universities or large corporations. I remember only in my early 80's father, who had an engineering study in which structural calculations were performed (of course only with the help of calculating machines) you could afford a computer. " He was a Hewlett-Packard (HP today) without the screen, with "well" 64k of internal memory (no hard disk) and a large display less than a mobile phone today, but monochrome and capable only of alphanumeric characters. Cost then? Sixteen million pounds (1980, eh?). Would be easily enough to buy a Mercedes mid-range (for this we had only a Giulia). I still remember the nights spent waiting for data and type (after hours) the fateful "beep", indicating the end of the calculation. Out of the PC, there was the grand finale, a kind of Copernican Revolution. Initially regarded with suspicion, the PC began to take hold in the case thanks to the games, stuff that now would cry of sadness even an infant: Space Invaders, PacMan, all in monochrome. So I was a maniac of programming. I went up there with two small computers that are entered in the myth: the ZX Sinclair and Commodore 64 (then 128 and Amiga). The programming was in Basic primordial strictly monochrome screen (phosphor green or amber? "Was the only choice). In a couple of years the cost of the PC became less prohibitive. In 1984 Amstrad bought an XT with 640k hard disk of 10 MB (ten megabytes!) At a price "how" of 3 million and a half (roughly the price of a small car). The first PC on which I was able to work very professionally was an IBM AT office. It was about 1985 and the "monster" with 640 kb of memory "expandable to 1 MB well" with 20 MB of hard-disk was shared in the office by 6 * lucky * engineers. I was among those who understand a bit 'more and then I was destined to program in GW-Basic traendoci rigorous calculation programs for structural or thermal insulation. For the rest you wrote the letters (Word did not exist, the best was WordStar) and only the most enterprising used the spreadsheet (no, not Excel, then it was the most popular Lotus 1.2.3) or the first real DataBase, that was then and DBase II DBase III. The graphics? Still dot ... The graphical interface of the first color screens, no more than VGA 640x480 pixels (and it seemed a miracle). No one had ever heard of a mouse, a virus, let alone Windows, the first version of which cloning is the genius of Apple appeared only in the early 90's. I could tell even a lot of these my 25 plus years dealing with computers, devouring magazines, through sleepless nights to program in Visual Basic and C + + (and also, I confess, download music and video), disassemble, implementation, setting , repaired and reassembled dozens for friends and relatives. But I'll stop here, I would not make it too long. Just makes me smile thinking back a few days ago when talking to a little known by his thirties, my sentence on the fact that my daughter is pretty good at the computer did not believe that I would understand a pipe and had to rely on the expertise of Ba to carry on with this "box of wonders." Ah, Blessed youth ... Vaglielo to make people understand that the world is not started by then so little ... I remember de The finger and the moon

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violent earthquake of my life I remember

23/11/1980 I had a fierce headache that day there, strange that do not suffer from migraines. It was a very hot day for November. The laws were at lunch, in-laws had arrived in the afternoon, Mom was returned from the church at 18 and had returned even my son, who had been on a trip with the boys scouts. On Sunday drew to a close, as every Sunday, with that bit of sadness and pain in the ass for the new week to deal with, work, home, children, swimming pool, catechism, grandparents, husband, sister, friends, etc, etc. The children were playing bingo on the floor, in a month would have been home, large sitting through the last coffee of the day, I ironed, like every Sunday afternoon. Suddenly, the headache disappeared as if someone had lifted a weight from the head, I had a little dizzy, I looked up and saw the chandelier in the kitchen and began to swing. Warned that the earthquake was the first swing. Courses to open the door to run away when it was all over. It took us all in the middle of the kitchen and suddenly burst open the balcony, I thought now open the floor and we all die. The quake lasted an eternity, I had the time thinking, other times, as I knew, had already passed. My mother cried, his invocation to the saint "San nepute Genna is my" begging for their grandchildren, that cry I remained imprinted in my mind a long time. When he finished the palace swing (and on the seventh floor was felt and how), went down and we went to seek refuge outside the church, just below the steeple, which was later declared unsafe. The traffic was crazy scenes of panic attempting to determine the order of other family members, we saw occur in front of my brothers-in robe, had been caught by surprise while they were showering. The safest place in the Vomero series was the stage, here we spent the night in the car. News for news, collapse, death, looting, Irpinia devastated. Accussi, accussi, accussi. The 24th was bitterly cold. I remember Didolasplendida

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and Anti-fascism 'is a value that should be taught in schools to young children. I remember when I taught in elementary school. I remember the teachers who taught it. In particular, I remember my teacher. Now say that whatever you teach a young child, this will be 'treated as normal. My primary school teacher before beginning the lesson there was to say the prayers ( a lot of prayers! ) every day. Today I am an atheist. My elementary school teacher, not every day, he made us sing the songs. Among the songs that I still remember there in full '"The Legend of the Piave href="http://www.botulinux.net/24_maggio"> ", "Beautiful href="http://www.anpi.it/canzoniere/bellaciao.htm"> hello" and a song that was Sandro Pertini " dear grandfather, President, really love you so .. . . Sandro Pertini. Sandro Pertini partisan. Sandro Pertini in 1983 ( and do not ask me how I remember it, but I remember it! ) said December 31 in front of the nation unified networks ( text copied from the steering wheel just took a few years ago I do not know where ) talking about Ariel Sharon:

"I I was in Lebanon. I saw the cemeteries of Sabra and Chatila href="http://www3.autistici.org/collettivologomotiva/skunk/skunk_sabrachatila.html"> . It 'something that anxiety to see the cemetery where they buried the victims of that horrible massacre. The person responsible for the horrendous massacre and 'still in government in Israel. It almost goes bold in this massacre. It 'a manager who should be banished from society' "And every Monday

'my elementary school teacher had us do" Abstract . "She read us a story and we wrote what we remember. I still href="http://www.chieracostui.com/costui/docs/search/scheda.asp?ID=210"> remember the "first Tiremm" of Amateur Sciesa , the rose of Maroncelli and other stories from "My Prisons " and who were href="http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ciro_Menotti"> Ciro Menotti, the United href="http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fratelli_Bandiera"> brothers, William Oberdan and many others. My elementary school teacher had us swallow 'also many poems by heart, "Ambrose href="http://it.wikisource.org/wiki/Sant%27Ambrogio"> ", "The gleaner href="http://it.wikisource.org/wiki/La_Spigolatrice_di_Sapri"> Sapri ... Here, when the eve of the April 25 href="http://www.botulinux.net/wp/25/04/2006/25-aprile/"> I looked at a survey that asked what it meant to the Italians and the party too many of these things I babble 'in heaven, I' on earth I was wondering, but where they go to school? This post 'a tribute to the memory of my elementary school teacher, Mrs. Gemma Pierantoni. (I remember Botulinux )

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anti-fascism in elementary school I remember the 80s I remember the phone

I remember the 80 's from the perspectives of the child, but I remember them. On Sunday evening, the drive that followed in the smurfs, while eating noodles ... The urban legend of the figures that contained drugs and shapes edged in purple. The John Travolta. Saturday Night Fever, Grease ... no, yes. The feeling that something bad would happen suddenly, at any time ... Not a war ... Not really ... Similar. My sister and I singing Spain that shoe on ... I love my chico When I realized it was not a feeling. For a while no outdoor play nor milk ... The gray sky, I thought that was the toxic cloud. Tattoos stickers with hearts, roses and thorns. Hair frizeè The advertising Rotowash ... Turn, turn, turn, choose ... And the interior ... with Mercatone majorette ... E-man, The Black Tulip, Wonderwoman ... And the man with the blue jacket of glittering ... A snowfall over-no school-no walk in the snow not to squander ... And then make the slush ... The Chronicles of games. Vialli to the insults and the initials The striker seemed to say that I give-a-do '... the player ... So that my father was AC Milan. I remember a little too much. Who knows when logorrhoea doubling ... Ah, yes nothing Double or nothing, but Lunch is served ... What we did not care to Clerici .... (I remember Baju )

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Bakelite

I remember the details of Bakelite, Black, Teal rarely, sometimes hanging on the wall. He had the phone heavy, so heavy that a child had to use two hands to hold, an ear level and the other headset. The dial slipped effortlessly, but also the holes on the bottom of which stood the white numbers were so large that it took to dial the number at least two fingers. The receiver cord was wrapped coil and could become lunghiiiiiiissssimo! We could play it seemed like a skipping rope. He driiiiin .... driiiiin that you understood that he was playing the phone and heard throughout the house. And then the phone lines were in pairs. It is called duplex. Typically, the couple had with your neighbor and if their son or daughter's engagement was the end. Then I had to go knocking on the doors of neighbors to ask if, please, could free up because you had to do an urgent call. It 'obvious that we were going to knock you, why would they say a rudeness to a little girl! I phone that black, shiny, heavy and does Riiiiiiing I still have and still use it! I remember Spalluzza

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I remember the kidnapping of Aldo Moro

I remember the kidnapping of Aldo Moro. In March of 1978. I remember I was in school, media, and when we went out into the street we found an unusual scene. Outside there were many parents waiting for their children. There were mainly mothers. I remember that we were amazed to see them before us. They were worried. My parents were not there, but the mother of a classmate who had abducted us speigò Mr Aldo Moro. I went back as usual to walk home, but I was worried, m ain sense vague, smoky. It was the first time a concern, "external", that is, from another world requires their attention. It was a knock on the door of the school. I remember the kidnapping of Moro impressed me from this unusual event: the alarm in the circle of daily life for something that happened far away, at a distance seemingly huge for us kids. Then the images on TV where the car was taken away Moro, and the other in the days following impression on me, I confirmed once and for all that the "outside" was bigger, much bigger than my neighborhood and also of my city. You could abduct people, it could be kept closed in a hole and then killing them. It was really a big thing. I had understood at once, watching the eyes of mothers outside the school.

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I remember I remember the sinalcoli

I realized that unfortunately many of you know not to play anymore .. you remember what it's like to play? Mean wait of playing for someone to ask your mother who is facing "may come down to play the Giarina?" You mean sit in a circle on the ground fighting over whether it should be playing musical chairs or witch raised, it means getting up snorting If you choose the game that you did not want, but it's just a snort, because you just shake the dust off the pleated skirt, run to your place of combat to find a smile so wide. And maybe you run up and melt the strings superga blue, and then it is necessary to do again, and if caught right away and then you do not win is the same, the game will change soon and do not am-salam bell beats you no. And play It also means making those alliances that last space of a snack .. I have a disk with Thumble full of oil in half, you the one with Creamy chocolate, half do? And if there is snow also means going to cry from his mother because you have pulled down in a Pallotta Coppino wool gloves or because you are all wet and you can not play, you're wrong hands, but then come back down immediately, with gloves and your brother with a plastic bag over, tied with an elastic, not to wet them. You must not lose this desire to play and where if not here you could never find? In vitavera? What awaits you with many problems, out the door? Ecchecaspita! It's a shame, and I'm really sorry for those who can not understand it, but now they just want to make a gift .. Be careful, because it is a precious gift and although I have little time these days, I realized that many of you around here, even vib, eh? Not know what they are now and then I will teach you to make sinalcoli, so maybe you want to go back down into the courtyard to play until dinner is ready. So to make sinalcoli need crown caps, those oranges, bitter oranges or beer of your brother .. or go to the corner bar and ask if there can give some 'Be careful when you choose us, because they serve only those nice and smooth, bent ... not sure it would be best to have the bottle with a knife and gently lift the crown, all around, just so you get a cap really perfect, but you see .. I do not want responsibility, I, then if you're wrong . You must obtain Glaziers' putty, and also can not help you here and if you have an older brother who takes him home, I can not help it .. certainly not the grout, you should give up and worse for you .. It must also be a piece of glass in the cellar you will certainly have a frame or the old broken window pane, even if it is not broke, do not want anything, just a stone, so no longer needed, but even when you thought One brother to whom to blame, no? Now run down, but not before, in the garden .. back, where there are pebbles, and look for one a bit 'large flat if you're lucky enough to find the right one, do not throw it, once you finished the work, which is more precious than gold. So if you have everything in front, we can get started: - Take your glass and place it over the cap with an indelible pencil and draw a nice circle of the accurate measurement of the crown - with rock smash the glass more transparent and placing the circle on a brick, worked all around the glass, crumbled very slowly, always with that stone, until you reach the right size. - The figures with the faces of the cyclists of course you will not I talked about before, because it seemed useless Anquetil .. Poulidor .. merckx .. Gimondi, Biton .. here, cut it out the right size, so you can adjust to fit inside the cap and for heaven's sake be careful not to sever the head of Merckx, eh? otherwise there will tell your brother for each .. floor-plan, there's no hurry. - Now close the cover with the glass and then sealed it with putty, not too much, which becomes very heavy, no longer runs in the evening and especially your fingers you would give a malecane dint of pinghelle designed to make him run on the track chalk sidewalk. .. See how easy it is finished? .. but it will be a marvel of sinalcolo? and now gone doing a race although on reflection, there you satisfy because we were luckiest us with our cyclists with cap visor .. building it now, your sinalcolo will have the onions with a figurine of an alien helmet, body and a pink bike less bike so you can not. The fact is, times change, you know. I remember Francesca Ferrari

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Television

I remember when television began at lunchtime. The next morning nothing. Pattern. O radio (Call Rome 3131). But there was an exception. In April or May when there was Fiera Campionaria then transmitted as so marked the laconic Radiocorriere a "film show". I at that time (we refer to the years 1969-71) I often went to school in the afternoon, we did the "double shift" (three days a week three in the afternoon) and waited the 11 with trepidation. Timely, at 11 the announcer announced: "On the occasion of the 25th Fair in Rome, is now broadcast the film ..." Most of the time were war movies. Or, rather, were films of submarines. I loved (and still) the films of submarines. You know the films of submarines, no? They're all alike. Most of the typing. The depth charges, torpedoes (one out!) The perisocopio pulled up and down, the alarm (a-hu, a-hu, a-hu) water entering the hatch, "immersion", the commander who takes aim, that the electric fry when they are struck by a mine, the sonar. Mitico. Unless were film submarines was glad same. But those submarines ... (I remember Blogsenzaqualità - http://blogsenzaqualita.splinder.com)

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I remember the earthquake in Friuli

I remember exactly two years ago, the earth had trembled for a few seconds. Nothing extraordinary here, in Friuli, you end up getting used. E 'on the run to get there, to really worry. The earthquake of 1976 but was a party. We children had a huge tent for all of us, did not go to school, stay awake Late, great to confabulation between them leaving us free to roll in the grass and beat to a pulp: how to live in camp within the city. I'm not even scared when I saw the first shock, one that seemed to never end. I remember that my mother had a habit of rocking me to sleep on the bed. For a long time I continued to stay quiet until I opened my eyes and I realized that the room was empty. My father has fallen in the room a moment before turning into the surprise terror, was a snap. I remember two years ago was different, I got scared a lot. Yet there was no damage, nothing, a small helmet without stumbling. It made me fear the noise, the roar coming from somewhere under your feet. And 'the land that roars in some way, move that tells me trouble, my weight, I get bored. And that makes you think. That we are incapable of small little things to stay stuck in the ground, that we are worse than carrots. And there's no field in which to roll and I do not like most campsites and one night if I sleep on the floor the next morning I have to manually twist the neck and that the next time I could finish in the great out in confabulation tent while the kids are asleep. E, sorry not me goes. (I remember Fineberg )