Bo-Bo Knows Neapolitans Are Dangerous

Restaurant. Mike and I. Our default neighborhood dive. Same stupid worst-Italian-songs-of-all-time CD they spin every time we're there: the theme from "The Godfather," a song with a chorus I swear goes "bippity boppity boo," and Dean Martin's "That's Amore."

Ever get turned around when you suddenly really hear a song you thought you knew well? For example, there was a time I thought the narrator in Simon & Garfunkel's "The Boxer" was coming home from the WARS on seventh avenue, and The Police's "Every Breath You Take" was a sweet, little, love song. Turns out Paul and Art were whoring it up on seventh avenue, and Sting was a crazy stalker creep watching every breath some sad sack of a girl took.

Tonight it was time for "That's Amore" to catch my ear in a new light.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie
That's amore."

All I've got to say is this: If the folks in old Napoli really think that love's about getting hit in the eye with a pizza, I'm staying the hell away from Naples. Because if Neapolitans sling greasy pizza at their loved ones, I don't want to know what they're catapulting toward the people they don't like.

When the oil burns your skin like you screwed up again
That's our hatred.

Everybody!

Bo-Bo Knows His Valentine

Today Bo asked me to deliver a singing telegram to the ladies (two people and one dog) who live in the condo downstairs: Caringheart, Windy, and Chasey. Their names are actually Corina, Wendy, and Casey, but no matter how many times I correct Bo, the change just doesn't stick. In Bo's defense, Casey does love to chase him up and down the stairs--Chasey must seem like a perfectly reasonable name for a dog whose energy stores make the Energizer Bunny look like a slacker.

But back to doggy valentines. The perfect gift for that cockapoo love of your life? Sharing some of your precious Vitalife jerky and a little Suzanne Vega:

My name is Bo-Bo
I live on the second floor!
I live upstairs from you!
Yes, I think you've seen me before.

I know. I know! I tried telling him that a song about child abuse might not send the right message, but he just sang the "my name is bo-bo" bit again and again.

"You're not listening carefully enough, " I told him. "This song's about a knocked-around kid."

"Just sing it, OK?" Bo said. "My Chasey's gonna love it.

Fine. Fine. Have it your way, but mommy and daddy will be listening to our song instead:

Happy Valentine's Day everybody!