Carpe Diem

I was in one of the villages along the Alsatian wine route the other day, and I came across a clock emblazoned with the phrase "Carpe Diem!" Literally translated, it means "Sieze the Day." But what it's really meant to convey is "Don't waste time!" A fitting motto for a clock - and for me. It's reassuring to have such talismans along my way, little reminders that I’m doing the right thing with my life, that I've chosen well.


For the last few days, I’ve been based in Colmar, right in the heart of France's Alsace, and prior to that in Strasbourg. Both towns (Strasbourg's really a city) boast canals a la Bruges or Amsterdam. And both have incredibly beautiful pedestrianized old towns, with outdoor cafes along the quais especially appealing at night when lights twinkle off the water.

It’s hard to describe this part of France, which borders Switzerland and Germany, without falling back onto adjectives like picturesque, quaint, and yes, charming. Its cities, towns and villages are wonderlands of half-timbered houses, shuttered windows, cobble-stoned pedestrian streets, and vibrant overflowing flowerboxes. Cathedrals are around each corner, their bells ringing the quarter hour never quite in sync. Maybe its just that these towns resemble nothing so much as the fairytale-lands of my childhood, just the sort of place Little Red Riding Hood might have lived before setting off into the woods to visit Granny.



In fact I had a quick tour of Germany’s Black Forest, home to “Red’s” Gran and setting of many of the Brothers Grimm’s fairytales. I was there in bright sunlight and only on the edges, not lost in its midst, like Hansel and Gretel, but I could imagine the mystery of the unknown that inspired those legends which have delighted and frightened children (and lined Disney exec’s pockets) for so many years. I got to see how cuckoo clocks are made, considered and quickly dismissed buying one (temporary insanity). And of course sampled some Black Forest cake, so that now I can be one of those insufferable people at cocktail parties who remark “Yes, this is delicious, but let me tell you about the divine version I had while actually in the Black Forest.” Slays ‘em every time.

The tour I took to the Black Forest was through a company called Regioscope (www.regioscope.com), which also runs minivan tours throughout the old-world villages of the Alsatian wine route. Regioscope’s cheerful and multilingual guide is Frederic Albert and let’s just say that he is my hero du jour - a regular Dudley Do-Right. Without going into detail about why I would need rescuing in the first place, suffice it to say, he goes above and beyond for small children, dumb animals, and idiots of the human sort. Beyond his personal valor, he also runs a jaunty tour, throwing in red herrings as he shares the local history (just to see if you are awake) - “The Swedish invaded this area because they were Muslims, Non?”

The towns we visited along the wine road were magical. Granted, I have some powerful residual images from a childhood spent with Disney (not to metion Rankin and Bass - I fully expected the Burghermeister MeisterBurgher to come bounding out of one of the ornately carved wooden doors and shout at me to stop playing with my toys)! But maybe its just that they look so much like my childhood memories of Hershey Park and Busch Gardens (without the rides, but complete with hokey tourist traps). Either way, there’s something enchanting about them.

A particular symbol of the Alsace is the white stork - always considered good luck and encouraged to build its nest on steeples and rooftops throughout the region. In addition to its worldwide association with fertility (it seems that wherever you go, the stork is delivering babies), its migratory habits have also made it an emblem of the traveller. Which I like. Nearly every town we drive through has storks on the tops of steeples and clocktowers. There's even a stork preserve.

As I take the Cisalpino train through Switzerland for a few days in Milan and then on to Rome, I recall again the motto which started this blog - "Carpe Diem." 21 years ago, a friend of mine was killed in Rome a victim of terrorism (we sometimes forget that it's been going on so long). I don't want to dwell on the particulars - that's a story for another day. What I want to convey is what he taught me. I've rarely met a more decent and generous person. Outgoing. Friendly. Always with the winning smile. The unexpected kindness. Someone who liked to have fun, and liked his friends to have fun with him. He did a lot of living in his 20 years. He seized the day, even if he didn't know why he did it. It just came naturally to him. His name was John Joseph Buonocore III, and while he wouldn't have minded remaining anonymous, just writing his name is a little tribute to a friend, and the least I can do to honor his memory. He'd rather I go raise a beer in his name. And I'm about to go do that too.

I won't write about my devastation, or that of his family and friends, at his death. Many of you have suffered similar losses. I will tell you that it resolved in me the determination to sieze the day, not ever again to waste time. I can't say that I've always kept this promise to myself and to John, but I'm trying. "Carpe Diem."

In one of my Father's bouts with what can only be called old age, I invited him to see a film that had just come out in the theaters, "The Shawshank Redemption." He declined, saying that he wasn't up to being in public. Perhaps he wasn't going to live long, he implied; what were films to him anymore? I countered, "So, what you're saying is you're old, and you're never going to see another movie at at theater again? Then isn't today as good a day as any to see your last film with your daughter?" We could be blunt with each other sometimes. He gave in and met me (still not to old to drive, you notice). And it is with some satisfaction that I report that "The Shawshank Redemption" may have become my Father's all-time favorite film - he certainly quoted it often enough. There is a point to this - beyond that of my desire for my Father and me not to waste the time we had together - and it's found in the film itself. There's a line that gives me goosebumps every time, and it accounts for a lot of my actions: "Either get busy living, or get busy dying." I believe that wholeheartedly. Because, if you aren't actively living, then you might as well have one foot in the grave. My Father, by the way, went on to live another 6 (mostly healthy) years. In fact, the year before he died (he was 89 at the time), he went parasailing in Florida. He got busy living. Not that he hadn't already lived quite a lot - he was barely out of his teens when he'd built and flown his own airplane. And that's just for starters.

So I look to those who've gone before me, John Buonocore, my Dad, and remember how to live my life. So, look around you, count your blessings (because they are many), and Carpe the bejeezus out of your Diem!