THE PINES OF JUAN: SCRIBED, SCRUBBED, REMOVED, AND RETURNED TO THEIR RIGHTFUL PLACE

THE PINES OF JUAN, part one & two

ONE

I pine for Juan

In Spanish:

Yo pino para Juan

or French:

Je pin pour Jacques


TWO


Of all the people I have known in this world, no one has pines like those of my good friend Juan. And so, because I love them, I covet them. I do not have no pick-up trucks (Spanish: No tengo ningunos grandes camiones viejos) but I am tempted to purchase one due to my affection and attachment to the pines of Juan, in order to procure the pines of Juan. I should mention that if I do decide to steal the pines of Juan by pick up truck, the only way I could rightfully acquire such a luxury, I needn't memorize the expression 'grande camione viejo' because Juan is actually from America, and I therefore could acquire a pick up truck here, in English, although he lives, with his pines, truly magnificent pines, in a small town or villa in Italy, his birthplace, where everyone speaks Italian, although his primary residence would therefore necessitate some oversea transportation of the truck, or camione. (Also, I should know Italian, which I do not. Io non parlo Italiano, furbetto!)

Juan resides in a villa that was named after his his great great Italian grandfather, Giovanni, his namesake, and he was delicious.

The villa, equally delicious, it is called 'I Pini di Giovanni.'

Juan's name, in fact, is Giovanni and Giovanni's is Juan, but he, Juan nèe Giovanni, changed it to Juan, because it is easier to say 'Juan' if you are in America than 'Giovanni,' a name more Italian, and less Spanish, that does not roll off the tongue like honey, but sticks on the tongue, like a pine needle: fragrant, sharp, and green, with little brown stems. Perhaps that's where all of this came from.

Which leads me to my next problem: wouldn't a pick up truck, were I to own one, be conspicuous in The Pines of Giovanni? It certainly would, in Italy, or 'Italia.' And if not, let' just say, where do I go from there, with, of course, my truck, my pines, and my dreams? I do not think that I should suppose Juan will help me in my misadventures for I am a rapscallion and perhaps a scallywag, a whippersnapper, an Americano Sincero who does not deserve his attentions. Besides, they were his pines and I took them. Also: how far is it to the ocean? One other thing: I love fizzy grape soda.

Sincerely yours,

Ricci de la Fortuna Imposible. Fragrante y Verde (con un poco de marrón)

all artwork, including monsters but not old timey photographs,
® mr. crispy flotilla, 2007