Lorenzo & his humble friends

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

Tag: TLA

Rebuilding is an exciting time

And in my puttering
I’ve let some relationships die
for I did not water them
But I don’t think i’d have known
relationships need watering at all
had I not been away to see them wilt or die.
The plant lives to give us life,
this is simple.
But we must also do our part.
Some of my best friends are like cactus
others wilted much faster-
I blame no one.
In life I have been torrential
other times a drought
Life, for all its seeming complexity,
is an experiment in precipitation.
Explorations ecosystems
and the flower in a badlands
growing through a buffalo’s skull, whispering:
“I let some relationships die
for I did not water them.
I blame no one.”

Poem by thomoose, who can also be found here.

This is fine

An occasional update on my murky links with Premier League’s team Aston Villa. I must admit things are not going well on that respect. Last May I lost this bet as the Villans were slaughtered four nil; and I still have to send my dues – one bottle of grappa – to the old moose Thomas. But things got even worse this season, with Aston Villa loosing virtually every single match they played and occupying the rock bottom of the ranking. I had some hope things might improve with the window of transfers in January. But they did not: Aston Villa signed no one. How a team in such deep trouble can do no business whatsoever in a transfer window almost beggars belief.


No team with 13 points or fewer from 24 games has ever avoided relegation. Or, as it has been kindly put by some pundits, the Villans are now staring relegation right between the eyes. Once again, someone on the other shore of the Ocean is making fun of me.

It’s on

You might remember my previous posts about Aston Villa. It is now time for you to know that Thomas is a loyal Arsenal supporter – which, living in Canada is not easy: you on game day have to go to the pub at 11 in the morning.

Both our teams had a miserable season – more Villa than Arsenal, to be fair. But they had an amazing run in the F.A. Cup. They are playing the final now and we are both watching.

wembley 30 may 2015


So long

last ride

Post scriptum: now that he is gone, this song keeps Thomas alive in my mind. At first I thought it would have been lame to put it on the blog, not least because quite a few people assume we are a covert homosexual couple – for the records, we are not. But then I realized the song was originally dedicated to a dog. There is no better match, Thomas the sundog shall forever be pleased.

And the teenager I betrayed

It’s already April but the wind smells like we are still in January. As you folks know, I am living in Florence and yesterday the local football team was due to play the second leg of the semifinal of Coppa Italia against Juventus, which happens to be the most hated team in the whole country, in Florence, and in my personal records too. Boy, this had the potential to be a great day.

Surely the teenager version of Lorenzo would have gone mad for such a match. Until turning fifteen, a good 70% of my life revolved around football – the remaining 30% was evenly divided between girls, videogames, and masturbation. Unfortunately, a sardonic fate has changed the priorities of my life, putting masturbation on top… well, not quite. But the truth is football is no longer a raging characteristic of my life. Is no priority whatsoever, really. Gone are the times when I caused serious damages to the car of my dad because we were late for the Sunday evening match and I could not tolerate missing the first half an hour of it so I obliged him to pump in the wrong kind of fuel. Gone are the times when I obliged my cousin to record the televised replica of Milan-Monza, a pre-seasonal friendly match played at 3AM on the 15th of August watched by less than 100 people in the whole world. Gone are the times when I painted my hair blue hours before Italy played France in the final of the European Championship, probably unaware that blue is the national color of France too so it did not make much sense altogether – anyways, you got the message.

And so it is. Yesterday, while Fiorentina was being hammered by Juventus, I was happy go lucky with Thomas family, as the kids were jumping on me and the dad was telling stories, and I was just happy to be there with them rather than at the stadium or in a bar. We did, in all truth, end up in a bar for the final minutes of the match. But at that point I realized how football has faded away from my life and does not mean much, while other things still do. Spending time with Thomas family is one of these things and it will suffice to say that being with them makes me feel peaceful. Sometimes this kind of kindness is all what you need to feel. Simple, natural, and probably easier to explain that a pre-seasonal friendly match played at 3 in the night. Or a 3-0 home defeat against the most hated team of the entire country.

'ciao bello'

Post-scriptum: I thought I had already written something about this post, which is beautiful. Turns out I haven’t. So let me tell you now that football for me still makes some sense as a mechanism to mock my friends. Alvise is Parma, Stefano is Milan, Max and Tommaso are Juventus, Thomas is Arsenal, and so on. Obviously I am not immune from this system, so yesterday night I received quite a few messages from these friends. Here I will report only some, those pointing at my vile attitude to switch team depending on the circumstances and always side with the winner. I initially titled this blogpost “Frankly, my dear, I couldn’t care less“. I then realized how wrong that was. In fact, I would have cared very much about being able to send some ill mannered messages around. Instead, I will have to keep my mouth shut for quite some time now.

A glorious week

So a couple of weeks ago I went skiing on the Dolomites with Giallu, Martin, and Thomas; and then, right afterwards, we traveled down to Rome to watch the disastrous rugby match between Italy and France.

Skiing was absolutely perfect and, as I wrote elsewhere, May the god of the skiers be eternally blessed for these glorious days up in the mountains where I used to come as a kid with my parents and I am now sharing with some of the finest friends I have met along the way. The trip to Rome was pretty messy, although it was good to be in eternal city and meet Sara, Paolo, Andrea and help Pierre moving back to Rome. At the end of the day I will remember this hectic March week with enormous gratitude for the weather, the mountains, the sport and, most importantly, for my humble friends whom I have met in very different occasions and yet they all fit together so grandly.

Because we are all very narcissistic and occasionally lazy, we took a lot of pictures and even a couple of videos (one and two) when we were on the mountains. But then in Rome it was rainy and crappy and we only took a few shots. I am putting everything online now to satisfy both my ego and my mother: the latter has been asking for some documentary evidence for the last few days, the former will gladly provide it now.

Meet Thomas

Thomas has been a constant presence on this blog. I wrote about him one of the very first posts. No wonder: I decided to start this blog shortly after returning from Victoria, Canada, where the two of us met in 2011. He was such an inspiring presence and I could go on for long, but I won’t. There is only one thing you need to know: there are people you meet, and I meet people constantly, but there are some of these people you meet and you immediately realize they will become an important part of your life. Thomas was one of them, and so were Iris, and later Manuel, Mindo, Dani, Giallu, and Jonas. Anyway. After I left Canada, Thomas and I met again only once, in Denmark. That was 2012 and now you see why to keep a blog can be quite handy at times. Thomas kept popping up: his letters, his poems, or some other stuff. He is now moving to Europe for a few months and he will be living in Italy, in Florence, in our house. Funny how it feels like a football club announcing the signing of a top player. But in fact this is about a very good friends with whom I am finally crossing path again.


You know that feeling when you do something and you are happy you did it but you also know, deep inside, that you never ever want to do that same thing again? That was exactly my feeling on January 1st 2012 after the big dive in the Nortern Sea, The Hague. Legendary, but also painfully cold and borderline unbearable.

Now I did it again. And it felt great! (In fact, it didn’t. It was as cold as the last time, windier, and on top of that all I forgot to bring my underwear for the after-dive). But ehi: I am glad I spent yet another NYE with the canadian crew after a messy journey through Austria and Germany. I am now reporting from Rotterdam harbor with Thomas and Clement. I will try to reach a couple of European capital friends in the next few days before getting back to work.

For now old friend, it’s time to leave

After two years, Thomas left Victoria. Before the final goodbye, he wrote her a romantic letter.


Musical movement
And the way fall comes in a crescendo of leaves.
There was a time we listened to this music without Youtube.
When brownness was not death,
And branch cello’s were not bare,
But alive with music.
This was when you sat
Below the tree in autumn, and heard the beat below
Your feet, and the type of tuning the leaves made for the next day.

Atuned, both you and treetops,
You suddenly hear this musical movement, and hearclearer, the seasons, and reasons, for change.
The Creator (el maestro) and you.

TLA, Thomas Laboucan-Avirom