Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli - Fear and Loathing in Indiana

      It has recently been brought to my attention that some people think that I am nihilistic, cranky, and have an all around curmudgeonly attitude. I have reflected on that and all I can say is . . . BITE ME.

       And so I begin another post. I haven't talked all that much about school because quite frankly, I don't like it. I only have 186 more days till they slap that 30K piece of paper in my hand, then I am out of here - out of this apartment - out of this town - out of Indiana. Quite frankly, I don't like Indiana either. I know, I know, they have Orville Redenbacher, Dan Quayle, John Mellencamp and a shit load of NASCAR - so what's not to like? I'll tell you what's not to like - the entire state is devoid of any good Italian food. Don't even try to argue with me (FYI, Olive Garden doesn't count) and I don 't want to hear about this pizzeria you know called Paulie No Nuts in Indy that has great zitti -  NO, it doesn't! Don't even try to tell me about the terrific pasta fagioli at Mama Mia's in Evansville, because you are wrong! So just fagidaboudit.

        There are only two areas in the continental United States that have good Italian food - the entire state of New Jersey, and a couple  of joints in the Chicago area - specifically The Sicilian Bakery and Al's Italian Restaurant on Cermak in Cicero. End of discussion. So what the hell has this got to do with my fear and loathing in the Hoosier state? A lot apparently  - I spend massive amounts of time missing my favorite food and an equally massive amount of time disliking many of the people I come into contact with on a daily basis, which got me thinking . . . you can categorize people into three different types of Italian desserts: Struffoli, Zeppole and Cannoli. Just bear with me a second here.

          Struffoli is the ultimate dessert, served only at Christmas, isn't common, it's a special treat and just rare enough that it hasn't yet been corrupted on the menus of Buca di Beppo or Fazoli's. Struffoli is just the right combination of honeyed sweetness and  marble-sized delicious dough. People in the struffoli category are the best, you don't run across them very often in life, but when you do, they are the stuff that lifelong friendships are made of, a perfect example of human hood  - interesting but not pompous, candid not fawning, so engaging you can't wait to see them again.

           Zeppole are about the size of a doughnut, deep fried, stuffed with custard and chocolate and sprinkled with sugar, heavy and over the top, you can't handle too much of these. Similarly, people in the Zeppole category can be overbearing, they are OK on an occasional basis but you just can't take too much of them at a time. Meet up for drinks - every once in awhile. Bike trek the Trans Siberian railway with - never. There are a good number of zeppole people in this world  and these folks are best left to the areas in which they excel: planning bachelorette parties,  kvetching and organizing labor strikes.

            Cannolis, the dessert, like this category of people, are the most common. They are everywhere, restaurants, grocery stores, coffee houses. A real cannoli, according to my Sicilian bisnonna, Vincenza Quatrocchi, God rest her soul, has a brown bubbled shell. The slightly sweetened ricotta filling should be infused with citron and the ends dipped in ground, green pistachio, covered with a light dusting of powdered sugar. This is a genuine cannoli, but how many times do you see cannolis like this? I have seen smooth shells, waffle shells, phyllo shells, chocolate dipped shells. I have heard of flavored filling, chocolate chip filling and of all things, shells filled with cake icing. I have seen them served drizzled with chocolate syrup, raspberry sauce and sprinkled with cinnamon, sprinkles and nonpareils. So what is my point? My point is that just like cannolis - there are tons of poseur people out there. Watch out for the cannoli people, they are never what the should be.

            So what does any of this mean - this whole bite me, NASCAR cannoli thing? It means that for the last four years here in Indiana I have been so incredibly unhappy - why? I couldn't tell you. I'm attending a top university. The topography of the Bloomington area is gorgeous - rolling hills, state and national forests abound. There are freaking deer roaming in my apartment parking lot - what is not to love? I've asked myself  this question over and over, and then I came across a commencement speech comedian/actor Patton Oswalt gave a couple of years ago, and it made perfect sense. Here's an excerpt:

             And then this banker – clean-shaven, grey suit and vest – you’d never look twice at him on the street – he told me about The Five Environments.

He leans forward, near the end of the dinner, and he says to me, “There are Five Environments you can live in on this planet.   There’s The City.   The Desert.   The Mountains.   The Plains.   And The Beach.

You can live in combinations of them.   Maybe a city in the desert, or in the mountains by the ocean.  Or you could choose just one.  Out in the plains somewhere, perhaps.

“But you need to get out there and travel, and figure out where you thrive.

“Some places you’ll go to and you’ll feel yourself wither.    Your brain will fog up, your body won’t respond to your thoughts and desires, and you’ll feel sad and angry.

“You need to find out which of the Five Environments are yours.   If you belong by the ocean, then the mountains will ruin you.   If you’re suited for the blue solitude of the plains, then the city will be a tight, roaring prison cell that’ll eat you alive.

He was right.   I’ve traveled and tested his theory and he was absolutely right.   There are Five Environments.   If you find the right combination, or the perfect singularity, your life will click…into…place.   You will click into place.

                      I am just not in the right environment here in Indiana - I just don't click here. So here's hoping that in 186 more days as I'm driving a U-Haul to who knows where, with my diploma packed away in a box - here's hoping that as I venture forth that I find my struffoli, cause right now all I'm seeing is cannolis.

 Clemenza's most famous line from The Godfather     

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