Several days ago, I was proof-reading my new book, a novel, with my friend. She lives in an up-scale community here in Naples. We took a break for lunch, and decided to eat at the community’s restaurant. It’s at their Town Center, where all the sports facilities are located. As we walked to the restaurant, to my surprise, we came across residents playing bocce. I haven’t seen bocce played since I left New York.
The wonderful part of living in the city, is experiencing its diverse cultures, in their neighborhoods. Most of my life there, was spent living, and working in Manhattan. One of my favorite sections was Little Italy, a short walk from where I lived. I would wander through the streets, passing wonderful restaurants, small groceries, and pastry shops. My trips always included visiting the small park, with its bocce courts. It was here, watching these old-timers, that I really learned how the game was played. This was a daily ritual for these men.
Bocce also brought back another wonderful memory. It was during my first real job in Manhattan. I was working for an advertising agency in the early sixties. It was located on 59th Street just off of Lexington Avenue, a stone’s throw from Bloomingdales. I had started in the mail room, then was promoted after six months, to the traffic department, then six months later, I was working as a layout artist, in one of their two art departments.
There were four of us in this one-room art department. Once or twice a week, we would all go out, and have lunch together. The area surrounding Bloomingdales, was filled with a vast variety of restaurants, and we would try many of them. Someone told us of an Italian restaurant several blocks away, that was excellent, and reasonable.
The restaurant had a large main dining room, that was filled when we arrived. The maître de suggested that there was a back room, which was usually not crowded. What we saw, when we entered the room, were several tables lining one wall, and a regulation bocce court taking up the rest of the space. Wow, this was great! Not that any of us really knew how to play bocce, but we all had witnessed the men playing, in Little Italy. This became, a once a week regular visit for us. We would order drinks, tell the waiter not to rush with our entrées, so we could spend time playing bocce.
Talk about an entertaining lunch.
