An evening at the home of a dear friend, and this is the time machine that brings us back involuntarily at the time of the kidnapping of Aldo Moro. I had just seen the film and by saying hello and introducing those who do not know dressed in 70's, with X that says it is time for revolution, that the TV strap, friends abandoned on the sofas, the pasta is ready, we speak of Italy, China, but always with an ancient atmosphere. Bella. Beautiful because there is complicity generational, though (I defend myself) many years I have not experienced first hand but heard and seen through the experiences of my many brothers. The evening ends with the naturalness and spontaneity family. XX then tries in vain to start the car, but the battery has left because the direction lights turned on ... how long did not happen? For nearly 20years, I think ... We laughed and all the cold to push the car ... the wires to power the battery ... but you remember? It happened every other day ...! Barely knew recognize a battery! The instruction in case of failure ... under the street lights and no one with the glasses ... and laugh away the text as possible to intuit groped for words and complete sentences for more visual experience for optical residue of each ... but I was fine. Suddenly I was with the right people at the right time and I laughed thinking of when we went to the gas station with the course of the tank car is not a reserve, but more, pushing nearly five or six passengers in a 127 to the first gas station and oil, because oil consumption and lose with dignity ... and of those who have only 1,450 pounds for a liter of gasoline. ... there national and two cigarettes on the dashboard, buy loose a few hours before the tobacconist ... the hours spent in the car as the purchase first home ... we were hot, you could read news and yellowed newspaper left on the seat a few months back, we smoke, we kissed and it was thought to the future ... and the future was often the next day ... thank Lu, Lu unknowingly ... (more)
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