Lorenzo & his humble friends

The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool

My angel strikes again

Yesterday I got to Bologna Central train station at 16:00. I had to get to the airport to board a flight to Bruxelles and for some reasons I was convinced I had plenty of time as boarding was scheduled for 17:30. It wasn’t: it was scheduled for 16:30. I realized I was dramatically late only when getting off the train. I then ran outside the station, smacked down a couple of old people on the stairs and caught my lifetime opportunity to do what I always wanted to do: get on a cab and shout the driver “to the airport! as fast as the light! I will pay you any prize”. In fact I didn’t: I payed him 15 euro, with a tip of about 2. Still. I realized I had a chance to get onboard when we arrived to the airport and the radio was playing ‘Highway to Hell’. I check-in, passed security and got to the gate in 15 minutes neat time. And so I departed.

The Barkley Marathon

In 2014 Stefania and I are going to participate to the Barkley marathon, that has been elegantly described by a recent article published on the New York Times. But do not tell her: she still doesn’t know.

On Friday night, in the Cumberland Mountains of eastern Tennessee, 28 men and 7 women will lie in tents half asleep in anticipation of hearing a conch shell being blown at Big Cove Campground in Frozen Head State Park. When they hear the call, which will arrive sometime between 11 p.m. that night and 11 a.m. Saturday, they will know they are 60 minutes from the start of an ordeal once referred to as a “satanic running adventure.” Enlarge This Image Geoffrey S. Baker Runners in 2012 heading up an incline called Rat Jaw. Runners are required to complete a bizarre entry form with questions like, “What is the most important vegetable group?” It is a 100-mile footrace that some say is actually 130 miles or more, through unmarked trails that have names like Meth Lab Hill, Bad Thing and Leonard’s Buttslide and that are choked with prickly saw briers. Temperatures often range from freezing to blistering on the same day, and there is a cumulative elevation gain of more than 60,000 feet, or the equivalent of climbing Mount Everest twice from sea level. A 60-hour time limit forces competitors to run, climb and bushwhack for three days with little or no sleep. They endure taunts from the race director, who deliberately keeps the competition’s entry procedure a mystery. It is a race in which there are no comfort stations, and runners cannot use a GPS device or a cellphone. Read the rest on the New York Times


Conosco tanti cazzoni che tirano a campare facendo il minimo possibile. E poi conosco tante persone che lavorano e si inventano iniziative nuove, senza essere guidati da nessun interesse o rendiconto personale, ma solo da una genuina passione per quel che fanno.

Su questo blog ho già citato gli esempi di Walter e Piergiorgio, due maestri. Un altro esempio é quello di Old Tom, che dal 2007 organizza dei corsi di Politica per gli studenti del liceo superiore di Bologna dove ha studiato. Tom adesso vive a Londra, dove mi ha ospitato, e dove, se mi devo sbilanciare, potrebbe restare per molti anni. Per questo ha ora dovuto lasciare quest’impegno, scrivendo un bel post di congedo che vi incoraggio a leggere.

Cerco sempre di ispirarmi a buone pratiche per vivere appieno le mie esperienze, con nuove idee, entusiasmo, passione. Questo é un ottimo esempio.