Italy has added some perspective to my attitude about good luck. Specifically, luck plays a role in where, when and to whom we are born.
When we were fumbling around trying to get some kind of internet while living in the Tuscan hills, we went into a store called Euronics. It’s sort of like Best Buy.
We were helped by three very knowledgable, friendly and courteous staff members. The one who spoke English (she had studied languages “all her life”) was interested in us and how we came to be in such a funny little town as hers and the one we were staying in.
I told her we were retired and this was a huge trip for us.
She smiled and said she envied us, she was never going to get to do this, she would likely never retire. I remembered how it felt back in the 60s to get your social insurance card with a note that said you will be eligible to retire in 2011. It seemed impossibly far off, impossible that we would achieve it — it was a different century for heaven’s sake.
I told her this story and she just shook her head and said, “No, in Italy, in this economy, I will have to work the rest of my life.”
A couple of weeks later, as we were leaving Italy our landlord’s “Mum” had come over to see us off, collect keys etc. She said our timing had been perfect. “Tomorrow is a general strike in Italy.” She went on to explain that Italy was in crisis, unemployment was rampant, especially among young people.”
Last night, Ken was reading a news report on Italy. Unemployment in the under 25 age group is 43 per cent.
Being born in the right place is very much luck.
