My Olive Groves In Italy

I think I was born in the wrong country. I love British humor, music from the UK, as well as candies and teas from the UK. I also love how Europeans are so damn practical. For example, my car is paid off. It has been paid off for almost a year. My car has 97,xxx + miles on it. I just had my 90k mile service and did not have to do anything major to it. I could buy a new car, but, why bother? My car runs and handles like a dream and gets incredible gas mileage. Besides, I promised him (my car) that I would run him into the ground before I would think of buying a new car. He has taken care of me, so I will take care of him.

If I won the lottery, I would move to Italy and make olive oil. Olive oil is amazing. It lowers the bad chloesteral, and raises the good. It is beneficial for the skin. I even use it sometimes to lube up my vocal chords before a gig, if it has been a three-nighter (four hour gig, three nights in a row). I would love to be able to wake up and have breakfast in my garden overlooking the green rolling hills of some part of Italy or another.

I don't dislike the States. I love my country and am extremely proud to be American. I just don't fit the throw-away, easily marketed to, Tweety Bird sweatshirt wearing, Wal-Mart shopping, American stereotype. Maybe this is why I tend to blend in wherever I go. When I am overseas and people try to guess where I'm from, they always say France or England. Good for me, right? I always say I am too practical for my own good. I think I'll go buy a lotto ticket.