June 2018

We celebrated Annalisa’s 30 years at the Carroarmato by tasting some wonderful wines and laughing and sharing.

Here is a photo of us toasting Cristina Geminiani after tasting her fabulous Scacco Matto, a passito made from Albana grapes.

 

 

And now to slip in to reminiscence.

At the age of sixteen I took my first after-school job. My mother intended this to be a simple character-building exercise. For me it became an entry into the first of my careers. Had I applied at the supermarket as she imagined I would, my life would have turned out differently. Instead a school friend took me to the radio station owned by her father.  He said I had a good voice and hired me on the spot.

For a few hours every afternoon I recorded commercials in a small beige room and on Saturdays I read the local news into a microphone the size of a prizefighter’s fist.

This led to a summer job at the black soul station in a nearby city. Its studio occupied two floors of a narrow corner building across the street from the university. My first day on the job I slipped into the thread-bare office chair in my little booth and looked through the thick glass window at the D.J., an exceedingly tall and muscular young man going to the university on a basketball scholarship.  He flashed me a wide, reassuring smile. Tammy Tyrell and Marvin Gaye warbled “The world is just a great big onion. Ah huh.”

My hands shook. The pages of my script rustled.  I took deep breaths, hoping to calm down.  I adjusted my trendy wire-rimmed specs and brushed the dark, uneven bangs from my forehead. More deep breathing. Again the D.J. flashed me a smile. He turned a knob and Tammy and Marvin faded. He moved in close to the mike and crooned in his Barry White Voice: “Now let’s welcome my sexy little news mama.”  My hands stopped shaking: I was horrified.  Sexy Little News Mama!!!  What if my father was listening!

I filled my ten-minute spot with news about local fires, marijuana busts and the highlights (if they could be called that) of the most recent city council meeting. The second our mikes were off I charged into his booth ready to do battle with the D. J.  “Wow,” he said mildly. “I’ve never seen anyone turn pink before.” From that day forward his goal was to make me blush. My three months at this job prepared me for anything radio could dish up and left me with an abiding fondness for Marvin Gaye.

Here is a link to The Onion Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ElC4UwYVuA