Wednesday, October 14, 2015

No Funny Stuff In: “JFK’s Swimming Pool!”

Diario di Roma II (Rome Diary 2)
Wednesday October 14, 2015
Cloudy 68°F/20°C in Roma
Sunny 90°F/32°C in Rancho Santa Margarita
Buongiorno,
   One of the highlights of my entire Roman Holiday this time were my moments with No Funny Stuff, my son, Michael’s new Jug Band. That’s right, a down home aggregation of musicians who join
Michael Botula and NFS
in the singing and play not only the traditional instruments but also some unusual ones. Here’s the line-up: Michael Botula on voice Ukulele, Kazoo, and slide whistle. Giuseppe “Beppe” Cassa on Guitar, Mandolin, Oil can guitar, Dobro guitar, Saw, Watering Can-o-Fone, and Glockenspiel. Gabbo Hintermann plays Double Bass, and Cello.  Rounding out the NFS line-up is Giuseppe Petti who plays Washboard, Bells and Whistles, Olin (whatever that is), cymbal, and bicycle bell, among others. It’s a down-home bluegrass ensemble transplanted from the mountains of Appalachia to the Seven Hills of Rome, and they are turning the Eternal City on its ear. Starting as one of Rome’s Busker bands, or street musicians who set up one step ahead of the cops and leave Gabbo’s top silk hat on the ground to collect tips, No Funny Stuff has progressed to music festivals all over Italy as well as a few other European countries. And, based on the track record of Michael’s old band, Inbred Knucklehead, No Funny Stuff is now doing a lot of pub dates and club gigs around Rome. Their unique sound has now been heard on several popular Rome radio stations.
No Funny Stuff at the Coliseum
No Funny Stuff - Tolfa Busker Festa
  The day after I arrived in Rome on a hot August night, Laura loaded me into her car and we drove north to the medieval town of Tolfa for a Festa that had attracted Buskers from all over Italy. It seemed that every piazza in that 12th century mountain top village had a soundstage set up for the many bands of all types who were scheduled to play that weekend. Where the music of the Buskers left off, an art festival continued. Italians really know how to throw a Festa and the Busker Festa was first cabin. It was here that I met Rachel, who was auditioning live that night for washboard and vocal, to temporarily replace Seppe Petti, who had been unavoidable sidelined. Laura and I arrived just as the band finished its sound check and we all sat down to dinner in a nearby piazza before the show. We finished with plenty of time to spare because No Funny Stuff didn’t take the stage until well after 1 a.m. It was my introduction to Michael’s new band, and I became a die-hard fan quicker than you can ring a cow bell at a Sacramento Kings game.
   Naturally, I kept a keen ear on Mike Jr.’s performance. He plays a mean guitar, and is a solid vocalist but I had never heard him play the ukulele at a performance, much less the kazoo and slide whistle, and I listened proudly. Then Beppe Cassa stepped to the front to solo, first with his mandolin, then with the electric guitar he built out of a one gallon olive oil can. Finally, Beppe soloed on Over the Rainbow on his carpenter’s saw using a violin bow to make the saw sound like the music from It Came From Outer Space, or some other old ‘50s science-fiction movie. Rachel, meanwhile was kickin’ butt on the washboard with its bicycle bell and cymbal and belting out This Train is Bound for Glory, This Train! They were rocking the walls of the medieval village. By the time the band finished, it was well after 2:30 in the morning but the piazza was still packed with fans, and several other bands were lined up to play. The sun was high in the sky before the last group left the stage. Even the Oktoberfest in Mϋnich closes up before Midnight.
 
At Dinner in Tolfa
Earlier over dinner as everyone at the table was munching their pasta or Caccia and getting acquainted, Rachel, who has a day job on the staff of the U.S. ambassador to Italy, invited Michael and Laura and I over to the home she was “house-sitting” while its occupant was away. Michael quickly accepted her invitation, and suggested that he bring Beppe and his guitar along with a few other instruments so they could jam after dinner. We’ll be out by the pool for our barbecue, Rachel said. The boss and his wife are away so we can’t be in the house, but the garden and the pool are very nice, and there’s a country kitchen next to the pool that we can use for the barbecue. It’ll be fun!
  To be honest, I didn’t give this much thought beyond, That’s nice, we’re invited to a friend’s house for a barbecue! I didn’t even think much about the invitation until Michael asked me for my US Passport number. Why do you need that? I asked. Because, he replied, Rachel is “house-sitting” at Villa Taverna, which is the official residence of the U.S. Ambassador to Italy. They need your passport information for security! Whoa! I thought, does my kid have friends in interesting places, or what? I remembered Rachel saying she worked for the government. And was house-sitting for her boss. But, I was new in town, how am I supposed to know stuff like this.
   So, a few days later, Michael, Laura, and Sofia and I (Sofia is their dog, a black Volpino) with Beppe
The Earlier Houseguest(L) and Il Papa
following behind, arrived at the main gate of Villa Taverna, which was flanked by two soldiers with automatic assault rifles. One of them spoke into his walkie-talkie and they were joined by a third soldier armed with a Beretta pistol and a clip board. After giving him our names, (Sofia doesn’t have a passport, but she has an honest face) he gestured to another guard in the booth behind him and the huge steel gates swung, silently open. Beppe Cassa, the guitar, mandolin and musical saw virtuoso followed right behind. To me, the whole thing seemed Medieval. Rachel was waiting in front of the 15th century palazzo, and greeted us like long-lost relatives. After the appropriate number of Ciao’s, salve’s and buona sera’s she showed us to the garden where an Olympic size swimming pool and a barbecue grill awaited. During dinner, she told us “the interesting story” behind the swimming pool.
   Villa Taverna has been the official residence of our ambassadors since 1933, she told us. On his visit to Rome in July, 1963, President John F. Kennedy stayed here as a guest of the ambassador.
NOT JFK and Rachel
That’s normal protocol when the President travels. He always stays at the residence of the American ambassador. Mr. Kennedy spotted the garden on his way into the villa and concluded that the ambassador’s swimming pool must be right there. Early the next morning, as the story goes, J.F.K. slipped past his Secret Service detail, clad in swim trunks and bathrobe and slippers and went down to the garden expecting to take his usual early morning swim. But when he got there, all he saw was the vast expanse of lawn. Just then, his security detail, accompanied by the ambassador caught up with him. Mr. President,
they asked, why are you down here in your bathrobe? With a puzzled look, JFK explained, I – er – was headed to the pool, to take a swim! But, sir! The ambassador responded, Villa Taverna doesn’t have a swimming pool. Just this big yard! Still in his bathrobe, slippers and swim trunks holding a towel over his arm, the 35th President of the United States intoned, Well, gentlemen, I intend to visit Rome again in the near future, and, while this beautiful residence does not have a swimming pool at this moment, rest assured that there will be a swimming pool in this garden when I return! The pool was built right after the President departed, but he never returned to Rome or the Villa Taverna. He had an event in Dallas to attend in November, 1963.
  After our barbecue, Mike and Beppe retrieved their instruments  from the car, set them up under the garden lamp, and the jam session got under way. Every few minutes, an armed security guard strolled through the pool area as he made his rounds of the villa. I couldn’t help but wonder how he felt about the music he was listening to. No Funny Stuff’s sound isn’t exactly the music that’s played at state dinners in the East Room of the White House. Listen for yourself - No Funny Stuff is on YouTube and Facebook. Next time, I'll include a song or two.
Ciao,
MikeBo
PS: Check me out on www.mikebotula.com or  MikeBotula.blogspot.com...
© By Mike Botula 2015

 

 

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