Stop, Drop And Roll.

After visiting St. Peter's this morning, we worked our way over to the Pizza Navona area. We had a nice pizza and salad lunch. Brother-in-law Jack grabbed the check and paid with a card. From there we went to Navona. After that, to the amazing Pantheon. Oh, those crazy Christians. They copped a Roman temple built a quarter century before Christ, stuck some altars and Christian statues in it and turned it into a church. Pretty impressive, but even so, I wish it had had been preserved as built. As a temple. 

Same deal with all the obelisks here. The first crime was the Romans stealing them from the Egyptians. The next crime was the Christians sticking their own religious symbols on top of each and every one! 

I wonder if, as those ancients committed their various robberies and artistic crimes, they knew that "Stop, Drop and Roll" doesn't work where they are - in hell. 

Our last tourist stop of the day was at the St. Maria Maggiore Basilica. Too late. Closed. So we decided to eat dinner nearby, outside, and enjoy the first cool evening since we arrived. 

When it was time to pay, Jack and I agreed to split the check. 

NOT-SO-SECRET TEST. How many of the few of you reading this know what's coming? TEST OVER. 

Jack dug in his wallet and his primary charge card was missing. That's huge. That's scary. We ran through the alternatives. Card left back in the room. Card left at restaurant where we had lunch. Card stolen at restaurant. We ran through solutions. Grab a cab and go to the restaurant. Go back to the room and see if it dropped there. Call Chase Bank and cancel the card. Or, call the restaurant to see if they have the card. 

Not so fast. Jack didn't save the receipt. What was the name of the place? I have been jotting down restaurant names and addresses, but hadn't this time. Wendi thought she remembered the name. She Googled it on her iPhone. There it was, complete with a Google map and phone number! She tapped the number on the screen, the call went through, and they had the card! A cab ride to the restaurant and the day was rescued. 

For the record, we ate dinner this evening at 27 Pizza & Rest, #27 Via Principe Amedeo. 

When I was a student here in Rome way too many decades ago - OK, it was the '60s - I would go visit my Rome relatives. My mother was born not too far north of Rome, so I have many relatives scattered around this part of Italy. In the '60s we American boys here wore gym shoes. Over and over, I'd hear a single word muttered as I'd walk by someone on the way to visit a relative.... "Gymnastica." Mostly the tone was disapproving, because gym shoes were never, ever seen on Italian men, except during sports. And shorts? Never! Men here, young and old, were slaves to the notion of Bella Figura, the Beautiful Figure. That is, they wanted to look really, really good all the time. They wore skin tight shirts and slacks, with soft leather loafers. Suits were slim and form fitting. The Italians stuck with that look long after the rest of Europe abandoned it. It's interesting, at least to me, that the Italian styles from back then are not unlike the narrow look that's taking over in American men's fashions right now.

So what's the men's fashion report from here this year? Blue jeans, cargo pants and gym shoes. And lots of men in shorts. Throughout the developed world now, we are becoming fashion twins. 

Off to Florence in the morning.

PHOTO NOTE: Crime #1 was stealing that obelisk from Egypt. Crime #2 was Christianizing it.