Chesterton and Dad Go To Milan

On the last trip to Milan, Mercer and I never got our tickets punched, so we still had two unused tickets to Milan. So this week I took Chesterton for some last-minute Christmas shopping while Rachel hung out with Nanny and Poppa and the boys. The snow was gone, the city was pretty, and the fun we had!


We took the 10:21 train this time -- forget that 5 Am wake-up call!


Chesterton in training. Getting excited...


Funny billboard: The Marlboro man misses the train! No smoking on trains in Switzerland as of December 11, 2005.


Chesterton felt sorry for the horse... so he offered his bell pepper.


We realized we couldn't read the signs, so we just did what they told us to do.


On the train at last... going tanti kilometres per hour!


Everything a boy needs for adventure: tickets, passports, hot chocolate, (tonic water for Dad), and a page full of tic-tac-toe victories. We also played hangman. The napkin reminded us of the poor guy on the horse again, who missed the train, but we just shrugged it off: we didn't have to quit smoking, because we never started. After all, we were the kind of guys who ate bell peppers in public.



Chesterton Brown Schuchardt, world traveller, in the Milano train station, track #6.


Duomo wari gato, Mr. Roboto? The big - dum, da-dum, dum - Duomo, was kind of um, dumb: it was hidden behind scaffolding. Getting gorgeous for the next tourist season, I guess: "Boy Dad, that's a modern-looking church!" " You know those Italians, son, Milan is the fashion capital of the world, so even God has to dress up real nice-like."


We got thirsty, but couldn't get the can open. Still, cool Austin-Mini with the Red Bull treatment. In truth, you can see these puppies in every major city in the world, and my stepfather once got to see the private jet hangar of the president of this company, one of Europe's wealthiest guys. His secret? He never sleeps! Also, FYI, the Red Bull logo is in my dissertation, along with the Lamborghini bull, the Merrill Lynch bull, the Chicago Bulls, and lots of the other bullish icons of the Wall Street universe. The golden calves pulling their weight, A is for Ox, Alpha and Omega, all that symbolic Metaphysical stuff, still pretty much in operation down here on planet earth, oh Lord help us...


Oh Italy, how do I love thee? Let me count the cappucinos...


We found a Games Workshop in Milan. Even in uber-macho Italy, I guess young men need a consumer venue in which to enact their masculinity. I am red bull, hear me roar! "I am Chesterton, I'm tons of fun!" We checked out the cool new Lord of the Rings stuff, but resisted all urges. It was getting near lunch time...


Check the method -- prosciutto, olivo, mozzarello, yumm-o!!! Easily the best pizza we had all day...


Gulp... Now the circle is complete: here we are in a real Italian restaurant, which is in Italy (a real country!), and they have a framed print of the program for West Side Story! Must not have gotten the memo about Romeo and Juliet! It's like living in the Neuschwanstein castle in Germany and deciding to visit EuroDisneyland to see Snow White's castle! Hyperreality time warp! Umberto Eco, get me out of here, there's no intelligent life in this cramped entertainment prison!


Movo, the only hobby shop that matters. Chesterton acquires the Formula 1 Ferrari race car, Christmas presents for other boys also found.


Does this picture look familiar? The Aviation Collect Shop, the only hobby shop that doesn't matter, because it's always closed. Never again.


Better to be a live mouse than a dead zebra! White with black stripes? Or black with white stripes? You decide -- but remember, either way you answer, you're going to offend somebody.


The glass-blower dude. AWESOME!!! Afterwards, Chesterton said, "I still want to be an architect, but maybe I could also do that too."


Were we having fun? Big Time! This actually was in an architect's office, and afterwards Chesterton thought big clocks were cooler than blowing glass.


Having more fun than reasonable in the subway station architecture.


Tinker, Taylor, Baker, Guy: Where Mercer gets his name from: from mercer, an English word for "a dealer in fine linens." You see it in the States only on your fancy socks, if they happen to have a sticker that says, "Made with mercerized cotton." As you can see in the photo, it's a fancy clothes store.


Well worn out and now back on the train heading for Lugano. A day well spent.