Here's a recent conversation I had with a couple of pre-geriatric Italian-Americans.
Names have been changed to protect both the innocent and the nocent.
CaptiousNut - So, have you seen your buddy Mario at all?
Bruno - Nah, I haven't....he bought a place in Italy and he's always over there now.
CaptiousNut - What?
Bruno - He found some of his distant family....they've adopted him. All he does is hang out with them.
Luigi - [interjecting] Does he even talk Italian?
Bruno - Nah....not a word!
CaptiousNut - Where is he, down south?
Bruno - I don't know....Mario almost killed himself!....He rides his bike all over the place.
CaptiousNut - What, did he crash or something?
Bruno - Yeah he fell near that....whaddya call it????...he fell biking the Khadafi Coast.
CaptiousNut - You mean the AMALFI COAST?
Bruno - Yeah, that's it!
Hah! Ain't nothing like an Italian-American confusing the most beautiful part of his HOMELAND with a ruthless Libyan dictator!
And, 'Does he TALK Italian?' instead of 'Does he SPEAK Italian'???
That line shouldn't have its comedic value under-assessed on account of highly competitive context.
BTW, if any of y'all ever get the chance to go to the Amalfi Coast....DO IT! The food and scenery are spectacular. Best food I've ever eaten in my life, by far.
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