Thanks for understanding.

I was simply at the grocery store, picking up a few things, including a card for my sister’s upcoming birthday. I found one, alongside the mother birthday section, which is right next to the daughter birthday section. And there I was, standing alone in this greeting card section, sobbing. Luckily, our society makes people run away when they see a random person crying in the greeting card section, or I would’ve had to say, “Thanks for your concern. My mother died…more than a year and a half ago.”

I’ll never buy another birthday card for my mother. She’ll never buy another one for me. She’ll never buy one for her other daughter or her grandchildren. That is something that is in the past now. This is something with which I’m supposed to be coping better now.

On most days, I don’t sob in the grocery store. On most days, that utterly painful emptiness doesn’t prompt a breakdown that keeps me from being a functional human being.

Some days, however, it still happens. I’ll pass by her picture or something she gave me or something that belonged to her, and the tears spill out as if she died yesterday. There will be a joke that only she would appreciate, something in politics that I want to tell her or talk to her about, a memory I want to recollect with her. When I’m feeling like an utter failure, only she would know what to say. When something that happens between my sister and me as a result of our closer relationship that my mother always wished for, only she would appreciate how far we’ve come.

No one understands this exact pain. No one’s situation is exactly like mine. My sister likes to stay away from emotions and deal only with reality, with what’s happening today. My niece who was closest to her grandmother is busy with her life. My other niece may not miss her at all. My aunt – my mother’s only sister – doesn’t want me to be sad. And no, I don’t want to talk about her with anyone else.

So today, I know that the tears won’t stop until I wear myself out and finally fall asleep tonight. I will wake up tomorrow and feed my dog, work, look for more work, call companies to work out payments for medical bills, and go back to the store for everything I forgot on my list when I had to leave the store quickly so I could cry aloud in my car and ask for the millionth time where she is and why she left and what am I supposed to do without her and how do I make the pain stop.

These are the moments of grief that people don’t talk about. It’s been 569 days. Has it gotten “easier” over time? Sure. But the grief is still there, always simmering, sometimes boiling up and over the side of the pot, not stopping until I turn the burner off on the stove. And what’s left is a mess, tears that have nowhere to go, and a pot that’s mostly empty.

Pazienza, Italians say. Patience.

Piano, piano, they say. Slowly, slowly.

Non ti preoccupare, they insist. Don’t worry.

Aspetta e basta! Just wait!

I’ll be honest. Patience is not my strongest virtue. But having to wait for the Italian law to change and allow me to move forward with the citizenship process, which will be another test of patience in itself, is teaching me how to do it.

Not to wait, well, is simply not an option. Italy is my why.

Waiting to Downsize

As I mentioned in a previous post about death cleaning, I’ve been embroiled in this process for more than a few months. I’ve been doing it over time, since my apartment lease doesn’t end until November this year, and I do have a lifetime of possessions – not to mention the things I took in after my mother’s death – to filter through.

I’ve done a few broad purging episodes this year, one to get through the cluttered mess that my apartment became after cleaning out my mother’s house for its sale, and the other to gather things for a yard sale hosted at my sister’s house earlier this summer. Now, I’m facing more serious levels of cleaning:

1. Setting aside things for a bigger yard sale at my sister’s house in October.

2. Selling large items like my marble kitchen table set and giant desk unit with hutch.

3. Downsizing my life to a size that will fit into my sister’s basement, which is where I’m moving when my lease is over.

4. Sorting that set of possessions into things I’ll want to bring to Italy when I establish my life there and a few boxes of memories that will stay in my sister’s basement for the indefinite future.

For the time being, my life consists of sorting and organizing, as well as uploading things to the “cloud” – whatever that is – like photos and keepsakes.

Two Big Deadlines

As I’ve learned with the Italian citizenship ups and downs, there is no sense in setting a lot of deadlines for myself to obtain documents, plan my overseas move, look at apartments in Italy, etc. Everything is in flux as the Italian court awaits an answer from the European Union court, which will then be considered by the Italian court and possibly the Italian government.

I work well with deadlines, so this process of waiting to see what happens is wildly uncomfortable. However, there are two deadlines I can work with to keep my life from falling into the ever-looming abyss of depression.

Deadline 1 is November 2, 2026. This is when my five-plus years in this two-story apartment comes to an end. I can no longer afford this rent, nor do I need this much space. And I do not want to pay for an apartment that will sit, unused, when I start spending more time in Italy. Moving into my sister’s basement will be the perfect transition space, and I’d rather pay something to my sister every month than a crappy landlord.

Deadline 2 is July 3, 2029. I will be 60 years old. I want to be living in Italy on a full-time basis by that milestone birthday. If Italy is not possible as that deadline nears, I will be living in a nearby country like Albania.

While I Wait

In the meantime, I wait. I find little joys where I can. I work on projects that may provide enough passive income to help with an Italian visa, an alternative to citizenship. I bring as much of Italy into my life as possible.

· I belong to a group of Italian enthusiasts in various stages of moving to or living in Italy. The global participation in this group and the monthly video calls provide a place to share our love of – even our frustrations with – Italy.

· I set my television to a livestream from Venice every day, complete with classical Italian music, as a background for my daily life.

· I’m continuing my language learning journey on my own with various free online resources, since my St. Louis teacher from last semester didn’t invite me to continue, and I can’t afford the other local class I found.

· One of the aforementioned projects I’m trying to launch is focused on Italy.

Sto aspettando, Italy.

The Missouri primary is coming up this week, and to say that voters here have been flooded with messages about it is an understatement. The phone calls and texts happen multiple times per day, the campaign signs are in yards and street corners, and the mailers are out of control. The television commercials are another story entirely, as they are overwhelmingly negative and nasty.

The worst part is that this is only a taste of what’s to come after the primary.

I believe that most of this is wasteful, as candidates squander the hard-earned money of their supporters on useless messaging.

It feels like there is little thought put into campaigns anymore. Candidates and their advisors lean on old and outdated methods without any proof of their value. And instead of trying to find positive ways to promote themselves, they too readily fall back on smearing their opponents, often to the point that the animosity between them makes it impossible for party unity at the time of the November election.

Some of the mistakes they’re making stand out to me, and I know I’m not the only one.

· I now receive daily phone calls from one campaign. I’ve told them I’m unequivocally supporting that candidate, yet I get another call the next day asking me to support. Look, most people aren’t picking up the phone for these calls. So why are they wasting time calling people multiple times and not coordinating or updating lists?

· There are yard signs up and down every street, from neighborhood streets to major thoroughfares. None of them have information about the candidates; most often they just display the name of a candidate without even a party affiliation. Does anyone think this sways voters? Name recognition doesn’t even happen when there are signs for every candidate, and the volume of signs for all candidates makes them irrelevant. And are there really people who see a sign on the side of a road and think…I’ll vote for that name…?

· Amendments are written so confusingly that voters don’t often know if they’re supporting something or voting against something or some convoluted mix of the two. Television commercials just play on voters’ confusion even more.

· The negative ads make me hate everyone. One campaign, using money from a well-known PAC, is running near-constant ads – often several in a row – against their opponent. Any voter of intelligence will look at the amount of money this requires and wonder why this person is spending SO much money to disparage another.

· One person hoping to be a politician calling their opponent a politician as if it’s a derogatory term is a waste of advertising. Perhaps politicians can make the term something positive instead of hurling this term as an insult against everyone without looking in the mirror.

· Mailers are also a waste of money. I receive multiple mailers every day, cluttering my mailbox and wasting paper. Every one of them goes directly into the recycling bin. Many of them are repeat mailers, and they’re cardboard in sizes like 6x9 or 8.5x11, and the vast majority of them are negative. They’re trash, and I can’t imagine that they influence anyone with the sheer volume and size of them.

· In the past, there were newspaper and organization endorsements. One could find reliable explanations of amendments and endorsements from an organization they respect. Today, however, newspapers are behind paywalls, so I’d have to pay to read a journalist or op-ed writer’s opinion about a candidate, read some basic facts about amendments, or get the scoop about PACs and how candidates are spending their money. Unfortunately, that information is no longer free, so the majority of voters are woefully uninformed – only getting information from the negative ads, if they even pay attention to that smattering of info.

Poll after poll shows that voters are frustrated by the negativity in politics, yet every election shows that it is the only tool in most candidates’ toolbox. Either the candidates have so little to offer in the way of ideas and plans that they can’t make it a campaign slogan, or they hate their opponents so much that they can’t think of the election in any other terms.

If a candidate is intelligent, show it.

If a candidate has a plan for changing everyday life for voters in a positive way, say it.

If a candidate’s only intention is to beat an opponent, they are the problem with politics and government. They are the reason people are so frustrated that they don’t vote at all anymore. If I didn’t feel strongly for one candidate, I would not vote on Tuesday.

This system is utterly broken.

You can imagine, then, that this story caught my attention. After thinking about it for days, I believe I know how to fix the problem.

Unsold Wine is Evidently a Thing

A mention of unsold wine conjures a thought of a few extra bottles sitting in someone’s cantina, possibly too many bottles ordered for a wine party. Other than minor situations like this, how can there be enough unsold wine to be a national problem?

Evidently, according to an article on Wanted in Rome, Italian wine cellars have approximately 6.2 billion bottles of finished wine sitting around, unsold. And this is an increase of nearly 7% over the previous year.

The numbers came from Unione Italiana Vini (UIV) – Italian Wine Union – figures. This is an association representing Italian wine companies, including more than 150,000 winemakers and more than 900 associated companies. Its most recent report tallied figures for the first four months of 2026 showing exports down for Italy’s biggest markets. Some key numbers:

· Exports down 6.8% in value (€2.34 billion).

· Exports within the EU down 3.9% but outside the EU down 8.7%. (USA down 15.4%.)

Oh my. That is, indeed, a wine problem.

Trump Ruins Everything

Of course he does.

The decrease of Italian wine exports to the United States is so significant that it was a top discussion point at the recent National Council of Italian Wines (CNEL) meeting, with UIV President Lamberto Fescobaldi noting that the US is one of the key markets to focus on going forward.

There are several reasons for the decline in US purchases of Italian wine, one being “changing perceptions of alcohol.” Everything else is Trump’s fault: tariffs, weakened value of the dollar, and protectionism. To combat these factors, Frescobaldi suggested that Italy must focus more on promotions and awareness for new American customers, essentially a bigger presence in the US.

My Solution

I’m here to help. While I can’t do anything about Trump – sigh – and I can’t really afford wine prices in the US, especially with the new tariffs, I have another proposal.

Send for me.

Italy, all I need is a plane ticket and accommodations…and a visa. I propose a new Emergency Wine Visa, good for up to one year and renewable if a medical check on my liver shows it’s still functioning properly.

I have friends who will join me, at least for a week here, a week there, maybe a month or two at a time. They won’t even need visas, as they’ll just come as wine tourists. Give me a map of these sadly overstocked cellars, and I’ll allocate resources. I guarantee that we can put a dent in this problem.

Italy, I also propose a government position (for me, obviously) as Wine Ambassador to the US, starting in 2028. I can’t do anything with this Trump administration – lost cause – but I can get right to work with the new Democratic winner of the 2028 presidential election, President Pete Buttigieg. I will develop and implement a plan in coordination with the Buttigieg administration to import more Italian wine to the United States. (Note: Buttigieg speaks seven languages, including Italian.)

This is a win-win (or wine-wine) solution to the saddest of problems. And I can fix it. Comment on this post with contact information, Italy, and I’ll pack my bags.

Grazie per l’attenzione. A presto.

There was a positive ruling this week in the Italian court system, positive enough to open the door again for my Italian citizenship. Sure, it’s only slightly open – the door is barely ajar – but I will take it. And I will peek through it like a citizenship stalker every now and then (or more often) until there is another ruling.

When Hope Took a Hiatus

A few months ago, I wrote a rather long post about my Italian heritage, my journey toward applying for Italian citizenship, and the day in March 2025 that the Italian government ruled that I (and so many others) no longer qualified for said citizenship. The Tajani Decree, as it was called, limited applications for citizenship to two generations. This meant that my intent to apply through my great-grandparents from Alanno, Pescara, Abruzzo was no longer an option.

It hurt. And without being able to qualify for any visa, I was relegated to hope – hope that the Italian government would change the law or that a court would overturn the Tajani Decree and rule it unconstitutional.

The first big court date in March 2026 slammed the door in our faces by saying in a preliminary statement that the constitutional challenge to the law was “unfounded” and “inadmissible.” Ouch. I supposed, then, that it would be years before Italian lawmakers would broach the topic.

A Referral of the Best Kind

The full ruling from the Constitutional Court was published this week – Thursday, July 23 – and it provided an unexpected ray of hope. The justices referred the case to the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU).

I received notice from Smart Move Italy, a company with whom I was going to contract for legal services to usher my citizenship through the court. They keep me updated, and yesterday’s email was informative.

First, I wasn’t aware that the Italian Constitutional Court held a public hearing on June 9 on the Tajani Decree restrictions on citizenship by descent (called jure sanguinis, Latin for “by right of blood”). Second, the result of that hearing was a referral to the CJEU.

… “the Court issued Ordinanza n. 147/2026. Rather than upholding or striking down the law directly, the Constitutional Court decided to pause its decision and formally refer the matter to the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) for a preliminary ruling.”

And what that means is that the CJEU will issue a ruling, and the Italian Constitutional Court will then consider that ruling when making its final decision. More from the Smart Move Italy email:

1. The Issue Is Escalated to Europe: Because Italian citizenship automatically grants European Union citizenship, the Italian Court is asking the EU’s highest court to determine whether Italy’s retroactive limits violate European law and fundamental rights.

2. A Hopeful Sign: Referral to the CJEU is often viewed as a positive development. European Union law heavily protects acquired rights, legal certainty, and legitimate expectations—areas where the 2025 Italian restrictions have faced strong criticism.

3. Proceedings Are Suspended: Final domestic rulings on pending court challenges affected by these specific provisions will effectively be on hold while the CJEU deliberates and issues its binding guidance.

The Wait Begins

The timeline is not the best. Smart Move Italy estimates that it could be 16-18 months before the CJEU issues its ruling, so that could very well be the end of 2027 or even into 2028. From there, the Italian court will need to assess that ruling and make its own, which could take another month…or more.

Should all of the rulings fall in my favor, thereby reopening the door for people like me to apply for Italian citizenship, there may still be a waiting period. I’m not sure of the entire process, but reversing the Tajani Decree or setting a new legal standard might require another decree through official government channels.

Somewhere in there, if I have the money, I will get back in touch with the lawyer at Smart Move Italy, and I will collect the last of the documents I need for the application. If there are any time limits on the documents I’ve already obtained, such as for the apostille certifications, I will need to reorder. When the lawyer says we can move, I will move.

Bonus Good News

My sister is going to apply along with me for an Italian passport. Since the passport grants many rights in the broader European Union, there are many reasons to obtain it, including visiting me when I’m living there and when she retires. Further, she’s going to encourage her daughters to apply as well in case they would ever find a need. Applying as a family costs little more than an individual application, as most of the documents overlap, and that one lawyer will represent us as a group instead of me as one individual.

It makes my heart happy at a time when I desperately need some happiness.

And I know that my mom, if she’s out there somewhere, is smiling at the idea that we’ll be doing this together, as a family.

The age of reading is not over. I read the article titled “The Age of Reading is Over” in the Atlantic, and you’re reading my response here.

I reject the premise and everything about the notion that reading is over, that it was an “age,” and that it is something that can just be left in the dust as a trend.

Of course, those are my initial reactions with no context, and I stand by those statements, but let me get into it. Rose Horowitch didn’t write an 8,500-plus-word piece just for a one-word response like, “No.”

The Atlantic Article

The article by Horowitch is well-researched and well within her years-long scope of writing about education. And I was so interested in the full work that I signed up for a free 14-day trial subscription to read it in full and print it – proof that I like to read words on actual pieces of paper…like books! – to keep for future reference.

I highly recommend everyone read it, if you’re able.

Some of the most interesting statistics in it, cited from reputable sources, include:

· In 2022, fewer than half of all adults reported having read a book that year.

· Americans reading for pleasure fell from 28% in 2004 to 16% in 2023.

· Americans in their 20s read the newspaper everyday in 1975, but only 10% do now.

· In 2024, only 35% of American high school seniors could analyze complex fictional themes and evaluate the author’s point.

· In 2024, nearly 30% of American adults cannot paraphrase a multi-page text.

· Most middle and high school English teachers only assigned 0-4 books per year in 2025.

· Average American eighth-grade children spend 4.5 hours per day on social media.

· In 2022, the average attention span on social media spans 47 seconds, down from 75 seconds in 2012 and 2.5 minutes in 2004.

· Average American adult IQ scores decline about three points per decade.

On the plus side of the statistics:

· In 2025, Barnes & Noble opened 60 new stores.

· Barnes & Noble plans to open another 60 new stores in 2026.

· In 2025, more than 400 independent bookstores opened.

But the positives come with a caveat:

· Only 20% of adults accounted for more than 80% of books read in 2025.

An interesting note from the article asserted that “Americans are probably reading more words than ever before,” though those words are often in emails, texts, social media posts, captions, forum threads (like Reddit) – almost all in fragments rather than complete sentences, paragraphs, or more.

With that comes the loss of things I read when I was young, like fables and stories. “Kindergarten teachers say that many of their students don’t know nursery rhymes or fairy tales,” said Benjamin Powers of Yale and University of Connecticut’s Haskins Global Literacy Hub. Not only are they not reading those things, but adults aren’t even reading to children. “In the study of 236,000 American adults, only 2% read to a child on a given day.” These types of stories and fairy tales convey life lessons - how to handle adversities, be kind to animals, make friends, be considerate of others, work and play in the world – that are now taught through memes, pictures, and captions.

Horowitch wrote that studies show “people comprehend less when reading on a digital device than on paper” due to distractions. I will add that this limits the people who have access to reading, as people in lower economic groups don’t often have laptops available for reading, much less e-readers that contain complete written works. And often, even if a person does have a laptop or e-book, they cannot afford monthly fees for subscriptions or purchase prices for e-books. If reading on a website instead of an e-book reader, the distractions come in the form of pop-ups and advertisements all over the screen, begging readers to stop and click on something else. It is no wonder that attention spans are dwindling.

Benefits of Books

A Harvard professor told Horowitch that her students find reading “an unnecessarily burdensome way of acquiring knowledge” and feel that reading entire books is onerous when a summary would be more beneficial. Students of today who’ve grown up reading snippets and hearing news via TikTok blurbs cannot comprehend that reading full text of a book is an experience. It takes the reader into the mind of the author, who took great care to develop and curate a story, creatively and in great detail.

By diving into a book and giving it attention, the reader learns about the author’s experience (in non-fiction) or travels to another time and place (in fiction), gaining deep perspective about things outside of their own world. Even in self-help books, the reader gains a better knowledge about a subject or explores more complex thoughts about something about which they only had limited information before reading. A book expands the mind and can even pull the reader into another world altogether.

Moreover, readers learn or solidify their knowledge of language and its power when written properly. As Horowitch mentioned (see bullet points above), the average eighth grader not only spends 4.5 hours per day on social media, he or she also watches videos at 2x speed to get through it faster and move on to the next thing. Another side effect of this type of communication and absorption of information is that “people use all caps to indicate heightened emotion and avoid the formality of proper punctuation.” This is reflected perfectly in the current US president’s social media posts, which are chock full of grammatical errors and a gross ignorance of capitalization and punctuation rules.

As students who don’t read become adults, studies show that “American adults’ ability to answer logic questions, reason effectively, and analyze patterns declined from 2006 to 2018.” They had more limited vocabulary, and their IQ scores declined.

Writing Follows Reading Trends

Horowitch wrote what I’ve been thinking for quite some time. “Generative AI is the first tool to threaten the continued existence of writing.” She went on to say that writing is a process of learning, and I agree that finding the words to express thoughts clearly and in detail to paint a picture with words is a complicated but ultimately rewarding process, one that gives as much as it takes. But when someone relies on AI to explain something in simple terms, and that’s all that readers want, there is no need for the beauty that is the creative process of a writer.

Of course, she also notes that AI “comes at the expense of mental development” and it is often unoriginal and/or inaccurate. “People will therefore need their powers of discernment and comprehension more than ever” to judge the AI writing, she wrote. “These are the exact skills that the use of AI threatens to erode.”

“What’s at risk is nothing less than the ability to think for oneself,” Horowitch wrote.

Some people still value original writing. There are those 20% of adults who read 80% of the books last year. And even in the poker world, as I wrote in this blog post earlier this year, many people resisted a new writer who entered the poker world with “AI-assisted” articles and books. Counter to that, however, poker media entities want mostly SEO-friendly writing that pops up on search engines much more than thoughtful discussions or long-form interviews or analyses. They’ll take a sound bite from a well-known poker pro over a well-written article every day of the week.

As I’ve been searching for writing work, the vast majority of the jobs available turn out to be writing that will assist AI or “teach” AI. This may be short-term income, but it would feel like poking my own eyes out to teach AI so that this tool can take away more writing work from people like me (and so many out there with much more experience) as time goes on.

Reading and Writing: Invaluable Memories

Some of my earliest memories involve reading, as my mom and dad read to me, and I absolutely loved books.

I was an early reader, and I wanted to read and write everything. As my handwriting improved from elementary onward, I was very proud of my style, the way I could make the letters almost sing from the paper.

My father taught me to read horseracing forms. My mother taught me to read maps. I wrote letters to my aunt, notes to friends, poems and stories in my notebooks, journals after my father died, notes to my mother when I was angry with my sister…I wrote all the time. Reading and writing were some of the joys of my childhood, as I could let my thoughts escape out of my mind and on to paper, or I could escape from the real world into a book.

I went to a unique high school that assigned books for deep examination, books to be discussed and analyzed for weeks on end. While I lost my connection to books during much of my early adulthood, I found it again after moving back to St. Louis. Reading was a love that I shared with my mother, as we often exchanged political books, shared news stories, and wrote op-eds to the newspaper together.

When I began to remember how much I never fit in to most social circles in St. Louis and the loneliness overwhelmed, books were my saving grace yet again. They calmed my mind, allowed me to escape (usually to Italy) in their pages, and inspired me to write about things other than poker. Books also gave me a reason to leave the house, where I sometimes felt suffocated through working from home and trying to handle my mental health issues. I would take a book to a local café or restaurant, order coffee or lunch, and read a chapter – or many chapters – before returning home.

When I am out with a book, restaurant workers and sometimes other patrons – most often women – will comment about the book in my hand. “Oh, what are you reading?” “I wish I could take myself to lunch and read a book.” (“You can,” I tell them. “You most definitely can.”) More recently, I’ve even had a few wait staff or bartenders tell me that they’ve seen more women coming in alone with books, which is greatly encouraging.

On the other hand, people will sometimes say, “Oh, reading a book, huh? I haven’t read a book in a long time.” But by far, the most shocking comment I received was from a waiter who asked me why I always had a book with me. When I told him it was relaxing, entertaining, and informative, I then asked what he read in his free time. “Oh, I don’t read.” I was too stunned to respond.

You don’t read…anything? Obviously, that’s not true, but you never read an article or a book? Not ever?

And that brings me back to the article from the Atlantic. Some of the statistics stunned me, much of the article saddened me, and the trends still leave me angry and scared for the future.

My ultimate takeaway is that reading doesn’t have to die. Reading books, writing, and soaking up knowledge from both does not have to be a lost art or pastime. We can reverse the trend, one book at a time.

And thank you for reading this. You are part of the hope I can hang my hat on.

The World Cup stepped into that role.

I wrote about the World Cup a few weeks ago, about my blossoming relationship with soccer/football despite initial hiccups in the 2026 games and despite Trump’s attempts to ruin it. In the time since, I’ve unraveled more of what I love about the game.

For the Fans

Most countries have been involved in football for quite a long time. While it’s only caught on in the United States in the past couple of decades, it’s been a global phenomenon for so much longer. That popularity appears to point, at least in large part, to fan involvement. It’s a game for the people. Teams seem to understand that the fans make the game, and fans not only enjoy watching it, but it’s a game they can play as well. It’s not like hockey that requires special gear, American football that generally leans violent, or many other sports that can’t be played anywhere at any time with only a ball. Football/soccer can be played alone by kicking the ball against a wall, doesn’t necessarily need a net, and requires physical ability but not specific height or weight to play.

Most teams and countries also provide access to games. Some countries offer reduced transportation fees for fans, reasonably-priced tickets to matches, and free television coverage so everyone can watch.

Of course, the United States hasn’t gotten to that point yet, as the World Cup has demonstrated that only those with a plethora of disposable income can attend these 2026 games. And many of the games are not available to watch online for free, as a subscription to a cable provider or channel is required to see the games as they happen. Capitalism – yeah!

Regardless, football players know that the fans make or break the sport. It’s obvious during World Cup games, as teams know where the majority of their fans are located and look to them for crowd support. Players run in the direction of those fans when they score a goal, wanting to celebrate with the fans. And at the end of each game, the teams go to their fans and applaud them, thanking them for their support whether the team won or lost. That acknowledgment is not existent in most sports, at least in such a direct way.

Sportsmanship, Mostly

Of the games I’ve seen, there is a fair level of sportsmanship. Most players enter matches without animosity toward the opposing team, though there might be an occasional case of bad blood from a previous encounter. For the most part, though, the intent is not to humiliate or harm the other team but to play a sport and play better than their opponents.

The games in the World Cup are all meaningful to the teams for their own reasons, so every loss or knockout is tough to take. There are often tears when knocked out of a World Cup round, at which point teammates comfort their colleagues. In many cases, players from the winning team also try to comfort those on the losing side. There are almost always handshakes or hugs after a game, no matter how consequential or exhausting.

Many times, players end up on the ground, whether due to a foul, collision, or simply a slip or trip. Those on opposite teams often extend a hand to help them up, though there certainly are occasions when tensions are high and there is a lack of such kindness. For the most part, however, any anger or frustration doesn’t get out of control, and if it does, they can often check themselves pretty quickly and let go of hard feelings.

Men and Women Included

When commentators and writers discuss the World Cup, they usually specify that this is the 2026 Men’s World Cup. This is a nod to the fact that there is a Women’s World Cup that is not just a side mention but a true world competition akin to the Men’s World Cup. In addition, commentating panels very often include women, like Rebecca Lowe and Carli Lloyd for United States audiences and Emma Hayes and Gabby Logan for BBC. Noticeably, the only all-male panels to discuss matches before or after or at half-time are solely comprised of men from US men’s teams. International channels, as far as I can tell, make more of an effort to offer diverse panels and voices.

As a woman watching the 2026 World Cup, this is refreshing and welcoming. It feels more natural and respectful of the broad audience that watches and to which they want to appeal.

Trump Ruins Everything

This may be a recurring section in any article about anything, as Trump has to insert himself into any situation in which he can show his name, face, and sphere of influence.

Of course, any time he talks about the World Cup, he makes it seem as if he brought it to the United States and, out of his charitable nature, allowed Canada and Mexico to have some of the games. In fact, it was the soccer federations of the three countries who collaborated to put in a bid for the World Cup in 2016, during President Obama’s administration. However, the US president doesn’t truly have much to do with the proposal and most certainly not the decision-making, which is handled by the FIFA Congress and its FIFA Council. Regardless, Trump will try to take credit for anything that has a positive result.

That’s not how he ruined the initial rounds at the World Cup, though. It was during the Round of 32 that the United States played Bosnia and Herzegovina, and US player Folarin Balogun received a red card for a violent collision. While many commentators and analysts didn’t believe Balogun deserved the red card, the referee decision stood. It meant that Balogun was out of that game and suspended for the next one, which would be the Round of 16 match. That was until someone told Trump about it, and he called up FIFA President Gianni Infantino to request a review. This is a clear violation of FIFA standards – of any sports standards – that a political figure would step in and exert influence to try to change a ruling or penalty. But, of course, Infantino already violated all norms by creating a “peace prize” and awarding it to Trump prior to the World Cup, leased space at a Trump property that remains mostly unused, etc. So, Trump knew that Infantino would likely do his bidding, and he did. Infantino ordered the red card suspension be rescinded, allowing Balogun to play in the Round of 16 game against Belgium. And even though Belgium appealed that decision, that appeal was denied. Of course.

The United States team could have made a statement by not putting Balogun on the field – the coach saying he wouldn’t put him on the field or Balogun himself saying he wouldn’t take the field. But there was no such action to distance themselves from the unethical intervention.

With that, Team USA took the field against Belgium this Monday and lost by a score of 4-to-1. I couldn’t bring myself to cheer for a team that took part in unethical behavior, and I simply shrugged off the loss. While the team and most of its fans aren’t likely to learn anything from the way everything played out, the rest of the world mostly breathed a sigh of relief that the USA is out of the competition and there is a lesser likelihood that Trump can have any influence over the rest of the games.

I share that relief.

Back to Joy

Now, the quarterfinals begin today, and I’m cheering for several teams, though it’s looking more and more like France is the best team. Regardless of who wins, I’m going to enjoy the games and allow myself the time and energy to learn new things, enjoy the good sportsmanship, and continue growing fonder of this game of football.

The first few summers that I didn’t do any serious reporting from the WSOP were tough for me, as I felt out of the loop, disconnected from an industry in which I had been immersed for two decades. But now, nearly 25 years after I found my writing voice in poker, I’ve made peace with my disconnection. My work for one client and my few remaining friendships are just enough to allow me to peek inside the window of that world just enough to be glad I’m not in there all the time.

Then, something significant happens that evokes such a reaction from me that I feel the need to say something.

Women in Poker

I’ll start by saying that I spent many of my years in poker advocating for women in poker. I learned over my initial years in the game what women faced at the table – the harassment, bullying, misogyny, and direct and indirect verbal abuse. That doesn’t even take into consideration the loneliness, intimidation, and insecurity that can affect a woman’s play – if she decides to play live poker at all – because she is such a minority in mostly male poker rooms and tournaments.

I came to realize that women-only tournaments often offer a less intimidating environment in which women can enter the game or play without fear of being sexualized or demeaned, bullied or generally made to feel that she doesn’t belong. Thus, I supported these tournaments, encouraged women to play, and spent time defending these events in countless opinion articles and on social media. And sometimes, women who enter women-only tournaments often gain the confidence and desire to play more open-field events as well. It was one of the ways that poker could welcome more women into the game as a whole.

Most poker tournament series organizers got on board over time. They responded to requests for women-only tournaments, improved structures when women demanded fairness, helped to decrease sexualization and condescension that some tournament staff used to display in and around those events, and some even increased guarantees and buy-ins over time. None of this happened organically, but the female contingent in poker used their collective voice to spur change as the years progressed.

Women at WSOP

The World Series of Poker had its share of issues over the last two decades with regard to non-male players. In fact, the very first women-only tournament was introduced in the 1970s, though only as a way to keep women from interfering in their husbands’ play and giving them something to do while their male partners played serious poker. In the early 2000s, during the poker boom when the WSOP worked alongside numerous poker entities to host a poker expo of sorts, the first few iterations were filled with strippers and women in bikinis promoting poker sites. The WSOP leadership took steps to improve their treatment of women over time, again when women collectively demanded better (and progressive men supported those efforts).

As the annual WSOP Ladies Championship tournament started to deliver larger numbers during the poker boom, some men simply couldn’t handle the fact that one tournament out of dozens was set aside for women only. So, a few men entered the tournament, as Nevada law prohibited discrimination, in the name of “fairness to men” or due to the “softness” of the field (meaning women were easy to play against and defeat). Of course, there were also a handful of men who thought it would be funny to dress up as women and enter the tournament as a joke.

HA. HA. HA.

Eventually, the WSOP found a workaround to stop men from playing that singular tournament each summer. In 2013, the WSOP decided to implement a new rule stating that women would pay the traditional $1,000 buy-in to play in the Ladies Championship, while anyone clearly presenting as a man could play but would have to pay a $10,000 buy-in to do so. That year was the first in recent memory that no men played.

Trans Women in Poker

Considering the discrimination that many women still face in poker (yes, in 2026), it is not a surprise that there are few openly trans women in poker. There are a few of whom I’m aware but none more visible in major tournaments than Aubrey Williams. She has registering live poker results since 2019 and is a staple in East Coast poker, having earned nearly $500,000 in live tournaments (not including online poker) per the Hendon Mob database to date and capturing several tournament titles. Most recently, she won the BetMGM Borgata Winter Poker Open Hybrid Championship (played online and live) for more than $52K. And this week, she finished second in the WSOP Ladies Championship in Las Vegas for her largest ever live tournament cash of $129,692.

No one at that livestreamed final table had an issue with a trans woman at the table. Moreover, many of the players in the tournament and several at the final table were already friends with Aubrey and didn’t give her gender a second thought. She has long presented as a woman, and she plays women’s tournaments, though she is a respected player in the game as a whole, not to mention an upstanding and good human.

Who had a problem with Aubrey? Men.

Interestingly, these men are not known for standing up for women in any situation, but suddenly this contingent of the poker community tried to act concerned about a “man” playing in a women’s tournament. And they expressed their feelings in disgusting, hateful, and offensive comments across social media and on the WSOP livestream of the Ladies Championship final table.

Livestream and X Transphobia

There were several days of livestreams for the Ladies Championship due to high demand for such in previous years. I didn’t catch any of them as they happened, but I did go back and watch a bit of Day 3 and then Day 4, the latter of which was the final table. Aubrey was a prominent figure on both of those days due to her solid play and substantial chip counts.

The Day 3 livestream offered Joe Stapleton and Jennifer Tilly as the commentators, and as I watched the chat while listening, I noticed that there were extra chat moderators warning against inappropriate comments. And it didn’t take long for them to start deleting comments. Just minutes into the livestream of the action, Aubrey was in a hand, and comments that made it past the moderators included “there’s the man” and “adams [sic] apple”, though a great many comments were deleted during the original livestream, so I was unable to see them in the rebroadcast.

For the final table livestream, Celina Lin joined Joe for commentating duties, and Joe chimed in after just the first hand to say, “I would just love for… if all of the misogynists and transphobes could make yourselves known right now in chat so we can ban you now, that would be great because I would like to focus on this. I do get great pleasure with removing your chat privileges for the rest of your life on the World Series of Poker channel, so just do it now, and then we, the rest of us normal human beings who aren’t terrible people, can enjoy what we’re watching.”

The moderators had their hands full again, as other comments suggested that when it was live, the transphobic comments were being deleted right away.

The same could not be said for X (Twitter). While I only follow news accounts there now, I clicked on some posts about the Ladies Championship when I heard about the comments regarding Aubrey. They were abhorrent.

And when another woman at the final table, Caitlin Comeskey, stood up for Aubrey, she became the target of the vile hatred as well, so much so that she eventually turned off the ability for people she didn’t follow to comment.

WSOP Silent as Always

The World Series of Poker could have taken a stand on this and stood up for its players like Aubrey. The company could have quieted the angry mob by saying that Aubrey was welcomed in the Ladies Championship and all events, that they respect their players, that they condemn the hatred hurled at Aubrey.

The company, the organization that is the WSOP, did nothing of the sort, of course.

Kudos to Some in Poker Media

Several members of the poker media – the vast majority of whom are male at this point – did stand up for Aubrey.

· Matt Hansen at PokerOrg wrote: “Aubrey Williams, who has shown nothing but class and professionalism at every step of her poker career, faced a wave of ugly bigotry on the internet and in the livestream chatrooms throughout the first two days of the tournament.”

· Connor Richards at PokerNews wrote an entire article, saying in it: “Williams, a transgender woman, entered today’s Day 3 tied with the chip lead. And while her table mates greeted her with friendly smiles and open arms, her deep run created a stir in some anti-transgender social media circles.”

· Rebecca Scales at Women Poker News: “The strength of poker is not found in a rulebook alone; it is found in the character of those who choose to face one another with integrity. We do not need to share the same viewpoints to offer the basic respect that every human being deserves.”

A number of poker pros, including some men, did chime in to support Audrey.

Men Have a Trans Problem

By all accounts, most of the hatred toward and about Aubrey came from men. Of course, men speaking out against trans women in poker, just like men speaking out against trans women in sports – all because they’re advocating for women. Men to the rescue. They’re just thinking about women and integrity and fairness; that’s all. Right?

Here’s a suggestion for everyone who has a concern or problem with our trans brothers and sisters or, for that matter, anyone who doesn’t line up with your traditional notion of male and female genders:

Let people live.

If you can’t love them or respect someone because you don’t understand them or care to understand them, that’s your problem. Walk away – literally and figuratively – if you can’t treat people with decency and kindness.

But there’s something about football, errr soccer – the one with the black-and-white ball. My nieces played soccer in their youth, one enjoying it more than the other, but I didn’t understand it much until I started watching the occasional match on television. The commentators brought context, and my love of Italy gave me a team to support. And seeing what the game meant to Italians (one of the oldest teams in football dates back to the 1893 Genoa team) pulled me all the way in.

Now, it’s World Cup time, and while the Italians didn’t qualify (much to the dismay of an entire country that took it very hard), I’m watching with excitement.

Italy or USA?

I’m aware that the United States has competed in soccer/football for years, and the national team is in the World Cup this year. And yes, I watched the first game and cheered for the USA to win, which they did. And then won their second game, securing a spot in the next round. I’m happy for the players (and their Italian coach!).

But somehow, USA fans in so many sports have turned me off to being a USA fan. There’s a sense of entitlement with American sports…and all things American, really. “The USA is the best fill-in-the-blank in the world!” The “U-S-A!” chants often come with a hint of anger, a pride so toxic that it’s dismissive of everyone else. It’s the same “U-S-A” chants used at far-right political rallies almost as a demanding statement rather than a meaningful shout of support and unity. In addition, instead of being fun and cheerful, the sole USA chant is boring and lazy.

Alongside that sense of dominating entitlement that comes with the general “U-S-A” chant, it represents what America has become, which is a place from which I’m desperately ready to escape. The Trump Administration, with its leader and all of its sycophantic members who bow to their king, stands for selfishness, egomania, wealth, white nationalism, elitism, callousness, narcissism, and general insensitivity. The majority of this country voted for this, and showing patriotism feels like supporting what American stands for on the world stage. And I do not support it.

With that said, I do not have to support a nation’s government to cheer for their players and their supporters. For example, I hoped Iran would win its match, partly for its people who have seen such difficult years, as well as for the team that has been treated so embarrassingly awful by the US government. That doesn’t mean I support the Iranian regime. So, I do support the players and true soccer/football fans who enjoy this game and hope to – not feeling like they deserve to – win.

However, if Italy was in the World Cup this year, the Azzurri would have every ounce of my heartfelt support because, well, I just love Italy.

Trump Ruins Everything

With Donald Trump’s tiny hands in various aspects of the World Cup, there is a bad taste to the overall series this year. But didn’t I just say that I don’t have to support a nation’s government to cheer for their players and their supporters? I sure did. But there’s more to it with the United States, as I also mentioned the sense of entitlement that some USA fans bring to the table. This particular Trump government has purposely tried to diminish the games and what they stand for.

FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association) announced North America as the host of the 2026 World Cup back in 2018, during Trump’s first term. When FIFA President Gianni Infantino went to the White House to make the announcement with Trump, the first thing the latter said was FIFA should change the game’s name to soccer instead of football because that’s what Americans call it. During that press conference, Trump asserted that the United States wanted to host the games and “we got Canada, we got Mexico involved,” as if it hadn’t been a joint effort. And that was only the start of Trump’s gloating about the World Cup while demonstrating that he knows nothing of the game’s history or global significance.

In the runup to and start of the 2026 World Cup, Trump did many things to jeopardize the planning of the World Cup. On several occasions, he threatened to pull the World Cup from certain cities in the United States if their mayors were “doing a bad job” or states if their governors didn’t allow ICE or the National Guard troops to police their cities.

Amidst these types of statements, Infantino created a new award just to give to Trump – the FIFA Peace Prize, complete with a medal and trophy – for “a leader that cares about the people” and advances “peace and unity throughout the world through his notable leadership and action.” It’s unclear if Infantino ever actually listened to words that Trump said in the past or saw his actions that undermined world peace and unity, or if this was simply a way to placate a petty, whiny president who loves gold and winning things over all else.

In the immediate run-up to the start of the World Cup, as Trump was in a war/not-war with Iran, he found out that Iran had a team in the games. He actually advised the players not to play their scheduled games for “their own life and safety,” a threat he never explained, of course. Trump had also appointed Andrew Giuliani, son of the disgraced and utterly embarrassing Rudy Giuliani, to be the World Cup “czar.” With visa denials and a hostile administration, Iranian players and staff were in somewhat of a quandary until Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum offered them permissions to stay and practice in Mexico rather than their original plan of doing this in Arizona. Giuliani only permitted the Iranians the ability to enter the country to play a scheduled game and then depart immediately, and he called this a “goodwill gesture.”

Speaking of visas, there were numerous incidents involving denial for entry to the United States, all of which were left mostly unexplained by the Trump Administration and its US Customs and Border Control (Giuliani cited “very good reasons” for denials). Iraq’s team photographer was denied entry to the United States, as was a Somali referee who had worked hard to garner international acclaim, secure a spot with FIFA, and obtain a visa. It goes without saying that many fans from around the world have been denied entry to the United States to watch games, as well as members of the press, which prompted complaints from the International Sports Press Association. Even dozens of Scottish fans were denied visa entries for unclear reasons, as were many from Morocco.

And to demonstrate that Trump knows nothing of true sportsmanship or a healthy dose of pride, Trump actually suggested to FIFA that Iran be disqualified and Italy take its place in the World Cup. Italian Sports Minister Andrea Abodi immediately responded by saying it was not possible nor was it a good idea. Other Italian officials chimed in to say the mere suggestion of it was offensive and shameful.

FIFA Leadership Fails

As some World Cup teams and staffs experienced difficulties gaining entry to the United States and some fans were locked out of the experience completely, FIFA under Infantino’s leadership tried to remain above the fray. But in doing so, the World Cup organizer not only left many around the world without access or answers, it showed a willingness to kiss the ring of Trump to placate the erratic leader and try to minimize potential distractions.

In addition to creating a “peace prize” for Trump since he was so upset not to have won the Nobel, Infantino and FIFA opened an office in Trump Tower in New York City last summer, even though the organization already had an office for its staff in Miami. By all accounts, no one works in the New York office, and it remains empty since its lease began nearly one year ago.

There have been numerous complaints about Infantino’s ethics or lack thereof, as the head of FIFA – and FIFA itself – is supposed to be a neutral organization with no political ties to particular countries. He has overseen FIFA since first elected in 2016. Interestingly, the 2027 FIFA Congress will be held in Morocco, one of the nations whose fans felt the detrimental impact of Trump’s unfair, vague, and racist immigration policies. It will be quite interesting to see if Infantino keeps his position after the 2026 games.

Canada Leads the Way

In my opinion, Canada and Mexico have been excellent hosts for the 2026 World Cup. The football fans in Mexico are second to none, and the country’s leadership stepped up for the Iranian players when the United States failed them. Canada stands out for several reasons, not only for its world-renowned kindness and welcoming nature, but for its attitude toward the World Cup in particular.

While the United States appointed a FIFA czar, Canada made its Secretary of State for Sport of Canada, Adam Koeverden, the FIFA sherpa. A czar is an autocratic ruler, while a sherpa is a guide and mentor, someone who is tasked with helping others navigate a difficult journey.

And after Canada played on June 18, suffered an injured player but won the match against Qatar by a score of 6-0, Prime Minister Mark Carney not only visited the team in the locker room but delivered an emotional and uplifting speech to the players.

My World Cup Experience

I must confess that I only started watching international football during my years in the poker world. With players from all over the world at events like the World Series of Poker, years in which it coincided with the World Cup were the most fun. Players from around the world brought their jerseys and flags, representing their countries in poker and football. I watched quite a few matches in casino sports bars, and the passion of the fans was contagious.

As I learned more about Italy and have worked toward moving there, I’ve caught the Azzurri football bug as well. It’s been fun to get invested in a team, learn more about the game in general, and watch more of a truly exciting sport.

I was inspired to write about all of this by a content creator I follow. Arlene moved from America to Italy years ago, a writer and interior designer who brings a unique perspective to the Italy-focused content I consume. She had a solid take on many aspects of the World Cup.

Like I mentioned earlier, I don’t have one team in the 2026 World Cup that inspires my passionate support. I like the American team, but I find that I’m more excited about the Canadian team going forward. I’m cheering for the underdog teams like Haiti, Cape Verde, and Curacao. I’m hoping the Iranians do well, and I’m happy for any team like Mexico whose presence in America has been under fire for so long but whose spirits remain strong. And I’m cheering for England because my close friend’s husband is English, and they’re trekking around the country to see the team play in this initial round.

Moreover, I’m cheering for good sportsmanship, dedicated players and fans, and a fun series of games. Go World Cup!

My mother died nearly a year and a half ago. I chose this week of her 87^th birthday to go through the boxes of cards and notes from her that I kept. There were so many birthday cards, Christmas and Valentine’s Day cards, some for Thanksgiving and Halloween (mostly from the years I lived far from home), and so many random cards. She and I loved giving and sending cards, and I still have the ones that say she missed me when I lived in Los Angeles, that she was proud of me for various things, that were simply funny or punny, and that were just meant to remind me how much she loved me.

The goal of going through the boxes of cards was to reduce it to one box, as my death cleaning continues and I consider what I can move into a smaller apartment and eventually to Italy. Throwing away a large pile of those cards was more difficult than I anticipated. It felt like I was moving farther away from her, cutting more ties, deleting more memories.

Yes, I know she lives on in my heart, and that’s the connection that matters, the one that will never actually die. But that doesn’t make the process any less difficult or heartbreaking.

A Lonely Place

It’s been three weeks since Meta closed my Facebook and Instagram accounts. On one hand, it’s been a peaceful and productive three weeks, as there were no social media feeds to scroll. On the other hand, it’s been an all-too-quiet three weeks with fewer connections to the world outside of my apartment.

It’s also been an eye-opening experience. Few people connected to my Facebook and Instagram accounts read my Substack posts (thank you to those who subscribe and read – I notice and appreciate each of you), and without the context I provided about the hacking fiasco, it looks like I simply disappeared. One friend from poker contacted me soon after I disappeared, for which I was very grateful. Another friend from poker called me this week to see if I was okay, as she’s been well aware of my issues with depression and worried that I cut off social media contacts. I’m grateful for her, too.

That’s it.

Realizing what a small part I play (or played) in people’s lives was hurtful but confirmed much of what I already knew. For many people, I’m an acquaintance, former colleague, or friend of a friend. Outside of a core group of friends and my sister and nieces, I am alone. My mom used to be my rock, my ally in everything, the definition of home. I no longer feel grounded by anything but my sweet dog, Vinny. He needs me more than ever since his brother died, and it is comforting to be needed. Of course, I need him, too.

And I will get through it, hour by hour and day by day, with Vinny at my side as long as he is able. I promised my mother I’d keep going, and I will.

There, again as in everything, is my mother. As I wade through this seemingly unending grief, especially on her birthday, I try to remain focused on Italy, which is my why and my future. It keeps being pushed further in the distance, but it’s there, waiting for me.

After 50

When a person hits the age of 50, it is a trigger for more medical tests. One of the most dreaded is the colonoscopy. If there is a person who hears that word and thinks, “Finally, I can get one!” I’d like to meet them and find out about their mental health.

Of course, six years ago, when I had my first one, I tried the easier method of testing. I requested the Cologuard box so I could possibly just send in my sample and be done with it.

I should’ve known better, as my mother had a lot of polyps as she got older, and I tend to follow in her health footsteps. So, my Cologuard result came back as problematic, and I had to have a regular colonoscopy procedure. I did it and absolutely hated the Golytely liquid I had to drown in as I starved myself in the lead-up to the appointment. And the result was that the doctor had to remove a number of polyps. They were benign, but their mere presence meant that I needed to have a colonoscopy every five years instead of the usual ten. Great.

Last year in May, I did it again. There were more polyps, but this time, in addition to the usual 3mm-5mm ones, there was a large 14mm polyp that had to be cut out. (The resection was not painful for me, but I know it required a little work to remove it.) Worse, the biopsy of the polyp showed pre-cancer cells.

The doctor basically told me to take more calcium, eat better, and have another colonoscopy in a year.

A Long Year

This year, I had to change insurance companies via Obamacare because Aetna left the program in Missouri. I switched to Anthem this year, and I set up my colonoscopy for June 1 with a new doctor, but I transferred my records (obviously).

After a long year of pre-cancer cells weighing on me as I struggled through grief and career moves and financial woes and quite a lot of ups and downs challenging my depression medication to keep up, I drank the liquid – Cololyte this time but same nauseating prep method and general grossness – for today’s colonoscopy.

I tried to keep my emotions under control, getting all of my tears and panic out of the way before my sister picked me up for the ride to the hospital, and I held it together for the procedure.

The doctor had spoken with me prior to the anesthesia, knew of my worries, and assured me he would be honest with me afterward. And he was. As I awakened from my anesthesia with my sister next to me in the room, the doctor came in and told me I had only one small polyp that he removed easily, and he saw no signs of pre-cancer cells. Of course, the polyp went off to the lab for proper testing, but the doctor said that everything looked very good. (How sad is it that the only compliment I’ve received from a man recently is about my cancer-free colon?)

I could breathe.

He suggested I focus on more fresh foods, fewer processed foods, and fewer cigarettes. Other than that, the doctor wants to do another colonoscopy in three years.

I can do all of that. I did ask if I could get a prescription to move to Italy, where fresh foods are reasonably priced and readily available, and he said no. He also informed me that they don’t even have prescription pads anymore, so he couldn’t even write a fake one.

Prescription for Italy

I’ll figuratively write my own prescription, and I’ll back it up with numbers.

The most reliable numbers I can find to compare the overall health of Americans to Italians come from the World Health Organization. But thanks to perfect timing, the Commonwealth Fund just released its 2026 edition of U.S. Health Care from a Global Perspective expanded brief by authors Munira Z. Gunza, Evan D. Gumas, and Reginald D. Williams II. These numbers are interesting even if not so surprising.

USA vs Italy: World Health Organization Stats

First, let’s look at some of the World Health Organization numbers. I couldn’t figure out how to do a country-to-country comparison, so I took screen shots of the data to get the numbers.

Life Expectancy at Birth (2000-2021)

This is the average number of years that a newborn could expect to live.

· Italy: females 84.3 years / males 80 years / total 82.2 years

· USA: females 79.1 years / males 73.7 years / total 76.4 years

Healthier Populations (2018-2025)

This is the number of additional people expected to be enjoying better health and well-being by 2025, as calculated in 2018.

· Italy: 3.6M of 60.3M people (6%)

· USA: 6M of 335M people (1.8%)

Unnatural Deaths

This is the number of unnatural deaths by several categories per 100,000 people.

· Road traffic deaths: 5 in Italy vs 14.2 in USA (stats from 2021)

· Suicide deaths: 6.77 in Italy vs 15.11 in USA (stats from 2019)

· Homicide: 0.68 in Italy vs 5.78 in USA (stats from 2019)

USA vs Italy: Commonwealth Fund

The Commonwealth Fund released its 2026 U.S. Health Care from a Global Perspective on May 28 as a way to compare the United States healthcare system to those of other nations belonging to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD). This recent edition compares the USA to 19 other OECD countries: Australia, Canada, Chile, Denmark, France, Germany, Israel, Italy, Japan, Korea, Mexico, Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, United Kingdom, and United States.

The overall conclusions are:

· The US and Mexico are the only countries in the group in which a substantial portion of the population lacks any form of health insurance (8% = 27M people in US).

· The US spent more on health care than any other nation (18% of GDP in 2024, twice as much as the average OECD nation).

· The US has one of the lowest rates of physician graduates (8.6 of 100,000 people) and the lowest rate of primary care physicians per 1,000 people.

· Americans die prematurely at some of the highest rates.

Let’s break down some of the numbers that specifically compare the United States to Italy.

Insurance Coverage and Access to Care

These rates consider a broader spectrum of years than the WHO statistics that were readily available.

· Life expectancy at birth: 83.5 years in Italy vs 79 years in USA

· Avoidable deaths per 100,000 people: 145 in Italy vs 312 in USA

· Amount of GDP spent on healthcare: 8.4% in Italy vs 18% in USA

· Dollars spent per capita on healthcare: $4,109 in Italy vs $12,649 in USA

· Dollars spent on pharmaceuticals: $254 in Italy vs $462 in USA

· Patients likely to skip prescribed medicines due to costs: 0% in Italy vs 23.1% in USA

· Patients likely to skip medical tests or care due to costs: 2.8% in Italy vs 26.4% in USA

· Patients likely to skip consultation due to costs: 4.5% in Italy vs 26.8% in USA

Delivery of Healthcare

This pertains to the availability of care now and in the future.

· Physician graduates per 100,000 people: 16.6 in Italy vs 8.6 in USA

· Primary care providers per 1,000 people: 1 in Italy vs 0.3 in USA

· Hospital beds per 1,000 people: 3 in Italy vs 2.8 in USA

· Potential years of life lost at 75 years old per 100,000 people: 3,181 in Italy vs 7,384 in USA

· Maternal mortality, deaths per 100,000 live births: 3.6 in Italy vs 18.6 in USA (14.5 for white women and 50.3 for black women)

· Intentional self-harm, deaths per 100,000 people: 5.7 in Italy vs 14.6 in USA

How Many Years Do I Have Left?

This is a necessary question to ask myself as I wade through my late 50s, especially after a cancer scare, albeit a minor one relative to all that are possible. I do want to make the most of the years I have left, and I can increase my chances for a longer life and happier years by living in a country that cares if I can obtain healthcare and better quality food, if I can avoid being the victim of gunfire or dangerous driving, if I can find happiness in daily life and ease (or even erase) factors that worsen my depression.

The United States simply doesn’t offer the options that I can find in Italy at prices I can afford. And America’s current trajectory indicates that affordable healthcare will become even less of a priority than it is now for the foreseeable future. By the time America changes course and tries to turn things around, it may be too late for some of us.

If you know me, you know I don’t do those things. I don’t begrudge people who do and believe in those actions and concepts. If a vision board helps you focus on your vision or manifesting what you want in your life, do that. To each their own.

The why, however, is something I embraced to keep myself focused, to give myself purpose. It’s not written on a board or illustrated by a collage of pictures. It is in me. It is a part of me, a part of who I am.

The Origin of the Why

I think it’s important to give credit where it’s due. While the question itself – why? – has a history longer than I care to explore in historic and linguistic terms, the purposeful question of why in relation to self-exploration and personal objectives is a relatively new concept.

As far as I can tell, the “why” came from author, entrepreneur, and motivational speaker Simon Sinek. His first book – Start with Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Everyone to Take Action – was published in 2009, and his corresponding TEDx talk has more than 13.3M views on YouTube.

A shorter synopsis of the origin of his why story is posted on his own YouTube channel.

In general, Sinek’s why concept was a business-centric idea. His examples focused on companies and social movements, larger entities that put values at the core. When the why is the starting point, the how and then the what will both follow.

A More Personal Version of the Why

As with many great ideas and thought processes, human beings will find different applications for them. When I first heard about the why concept, it didn’t occur to me that it was a business model, and I had no idea of Sinek’s initial explanations of its application. It was something I understood to be a personal motivation, something that drove one’s decisions and helped one push through challenges to achieve a goal, which was the ultimate why.

I adapted the why concept to my own life, as I needed a why.

Most people have obvious why choices, as they have steady career paths to pursue, children to raise, spouses or significant others to plan lives with. I never had any of that in the way that so many others do. So, I just floated through life, looking for love and wondering about my purpose in the world. Dealing with manic depression also meant that, very often, just finding a reason to get through another day or week or month was a task in itself. Things did take a bit of a positive turn when I left St. Louis to move to Los Angeles in 1999.

For many years, my world revolved around friends and writing. I lived near some of my closest friends in Los Angeles and pursued writing with vigor. Even as I transitioned from dreaming of writing for television or film to actually writing about poker and its players, I worked on something every single day. I was good at it, I worked to improve on that talent, and I got great satisfaction from writing just about anything. When I moved to Las Vegas for a few years, I had a few friends there and saw many people in my industry (poker) as they lived in Vegas or visited regularly. I was still doing quite a lot of writing work.

It was my move back to St. Louis that began to change everything. I was close to my family, though I mainly spent time with my mother. I had a few friends from my childhood and met a few new ones, but my writing became more of a job than something I enjoyed. Being farther away from poker games and players made it difficult for me to find good stories, so my writing became more focused on website copy. Occasionally, stories would grab me, and I would do some meaningful work, but as time progressed, websites began shutting down or focusing more on SEO (search engine optimization) than good stories and keywords rather than long-form content. Some of my best work was deleted from sites to make room for SEO-friendly articles. Younger people were taking jobs that involved travel, as I was turning down the few opportunities that did arise, as my dogs aged and my mom required more attention. In addition, I became much more interested in politics and social justice (I moved back to St. Louis just days before Michael Brown was murdered in Ferguson), but I had no experience in those realms, so I found no paid writing work for those areas of interest.

I started thinking about my why, especially during the pandemic. What was my purpose? What was driving me to do anything? By that time, I had visited Italy many times and knew that I wanted to live there. I began pursuing the idea of obtaining my Italian citizenship, which would open the door to spending more time there and beginning to build a life there. That was a somewhat distant dream, though, as I had responsibilities at home.

By the time I decided that I didn’t have much of a meaningful place in the poker industry anymore, my mother’s health was failing. Soon, I had to face life without my mother, who had been my biggest supporter, cheerleader, and best friend throughout my life. I had to deal with the fact that I had never let go of my father, who died when I was a child. And my two rescue dogs were aging at the same time. This year, I had to let go of Rocco, and Vinny is hanging in with me at 16, but he has health issues that force me to face the reality that he won’t be with me forever.

As for my Italian why, a glitch in that plan appeared when Italy changed its citizenship law in 2025. My why remained the same, but I needed to rethink what it meant to have that why but not have the ability to obtain Italian citizenship. But with so much going on in 2025 and into 2026, I kept pushing that thought process off to the side. Italy remained my why – my goal, my future, my passion, my happy place – but I hadn’t had the energy to adjust how that all looked.

Getting Real with Why

At the risk of overusing the word, I should expand on why Italy is my why. It’s a beautiful country, obviously, and the link in the previous paragraph explains my ancestral link to Italy. But it’s more than that. The happiness I feel when I’m there is something I had never experienced before, the feeling of heartfelt belonging and connection, a deep sense of understanding despite my loose grasp of the Italian language and an ongoing education about its culture. I often describe myself as being in a relationship with Italy, one that is complicated but solid.

The growth of that relationship has included falling in love with so many aspects of Italy.

• I love the food, but more than just the taste, I love the care with which Italians handle and respect food, create with ingredients, value seasonal growth, respect the farmers (and the animals and the land they care for), and the pride with which they present it.

• I love the respect for history by ensuring structures remain intact, refurbishing without removing essence, legally restricting rebuilds and remodels, stopping construction or restoration work entirely if more ruins or artifacts are discovered in the process. Every street and structure has character that tells a story, sometimes centuries upon centuries old.

• I love that work is work but not life, and people work to live, knowing how to keep a job out of most conversations and not let it interfere with the quality of family time, leisure time, meals, or friendships.

• I love the way walking is an integral part of life at every age, no matter the speed with which one walks, as it is the preferred way to get around town but also a pastime. Italians walk after meals, during work breaks, for pure enjoyment, with or without a companion or group, and in a way that allows them to stop and chat, admire surroundings, or simply smell the flowers along the way.

Suffice it to say, I could go on and on with everything from generalizations to minute demonstrations of an Italian way of life that I simply adore.

All of this is to say that Italy is more than just a destination for me. It is a place that I long to call home, a place in which I want to be immersed for the rest of my days. I want to live in it and live it, dive head first into the relationship and soak in it.

That makes my why a multi-dimensional goal, a purpose that pairs with the belief that I belong in Italy, a direction that steers me through work and language learning and death cleaning, a sense that getting out of bed each day and fighting my mental demons may move me one step closer to living the life I believe I’m meant to live.

The reality, however, is that citizenship is not an option right now. Sure, there are court cases that point to the potential for the law to change, which may allow me to obtain citizenship. But in the meantime, this reality and my lack of qualification for any visa puts me squarely at odds with my why.

There’s also the minor inconvenience of having no money with which to hire a lawyer to pursue citizenship should it become available or to obtain my necessary documents and apostilles and translations. And this same inconvenience forces me to take some of the focus off my language learning and death cleaning to – ya know – find work, launch a website, finish my novel and edit it and submit it to publishers, and somehow earn an income that allows me to live while I try to go after my why.

The Why Does Not Change

My why is clear. My ultimate why remains the same as it has been. I don’t need to redefine my why after all, just reorganize the path (or paths) that are available to take.

And that’s going to take a lot more than a Substack post to figure out.

For me, returning from Italy brought more than simply a state of melancholy that would pass. It was a frame of mind that could only be described as restless. While a state of mind is more of a mood, a frame of mind is all-encompassing. This restless frame of mind was affecting everything I did, my attitude toward life, and my planning for what will come next.

As I was grappling with that, increasing the intensity of my death cleaning and planning to downsize from my two-bedroom two-floor apartment, the previously stable parts of my life began to unravel.

Social Media Shutdowns

Earlier this year, I reduced my Twitter (X) usage dramatically. I unfollowed everyone but a couple dozen media accounts, as I do like the breaking news features from accounts like the BBC and CNN. I also like to see updates from several mainstream journalists, notable figures, and Italian news outlets.

However, I kept my Facebook and Instagram accounts, as they were mostly ways to keep in touch with friends. I had been on Facebook for nearly 20 years, and it was a way to keep in touch with my cousins in California, friends in St. Louis I don’t see often enough, and friends and colleagues from poker who live in various parts of the world. Not only was I able to keep up with their lives, but I was able to share some of mine as well. As for Instagram, it was also a way to keep in touch with family while also following accounts from Italian content creators and expats who had moved to Italy.

This week, someone tried to hack those accounts, which are connected under the Meta umbrella of companies. They tried to hack those sites of mine so quickly that by the time I received notifications that it was happening via email, text, and Whatsapp, both Facebook and Instagram informed me that my accounts violated terms and were closed. HUH? I immediately reached out to customer service chats for both sites, and they tried to confirm my identity, but despite being able to send codes to my email and text for me to repeat back, they needed to confirm via facial recognition. But since I never took many selfies and didn’t have my own face plastered all over my FB and Insta accounts, they couldn’t confirm my identity. They permanently closed my Meta accounts without any opportunity for appeal, without any further explanation as to what happened or any deference to the fact that I was hacked.

Within about an hour, I was cut off from all of my Facebook and Instagram friends and accounts. Pictures and videos were deleted. Everything was gone.

I was stunned. I was sad. II felt violated and attacked. And I felt more alone than I had in a long time. My daily communications with people through those social media platforms – sometimes my only contact with other humans as I work from home – were taken away, an action completely out of my control.

Work Reduced

Without going into too much detail, I’ll just say that I’m broke. Not “I can’t afford another vacation” broke but down to my last dollars broke. Any money that I had in the bank went to Italy with us and didn’t come back.

I’ve been trying to launch a series of journals on Amazon, though I only have one available so far, and launch a website featuring lists of resources for Italy enthusiasts, which will be ready in the coming days (maybe a week or so). There have been issues, as I can’t afford ISBN numbers or copyrights yet, and Amazon KDP doesn’t issue ISBNs for low-content books like journals. That means I can’t show a preview of my journal on the Amazon page. And I’m just learning about KDP (and Canva) as I go along. The website also costs money, but I’m starting with the bare minimum to get it going. All of that to say that these are long-term projects, not necessarily ones with short-term payouts.

None of my past gambling clients have work for me, so I’ve been looking through job sites for remote work. I may have to start applying for jobs at my local grocery store or a bookstore, but kids out of school for the summer are taking those quickly.

And there is a downside about leaving home for work…

My Aging Dog

As I wrote about in March, I had to put my sweet Rocco boy out of his misery from numerous health issues. Since then, Vinny and I have been mourning and coping.

Vinny is 16 and not the epitome of health. He has lost much of his hearing and doesn’t have many teeth left, and his remaining teeth are not in great shape. He’s had a heart murmur for years, and his sight in at least one eye is deteriorating quickly, but he still gets along quite well.

This week, Vinny had some kind of medical episode. He fell to the ground as he was trying to walk to me, he was clearly disoriented, and he whelped in pain (or utter confusion). He couldn’t move or stand up for a few minutes, which was all the time I needed to put on his harness, scoop him up, and race to the vet. He was alert in the car but still somewhat confused and leaning to one side.

The vet can’t be sure what happened, as no signs point to stroke or seizure; it could have been a severe case of vertigo or he could have fainted. She took his blood for testing, and she took his blood pressure, which was low, as was his temperature – not alarmingly so, but enough to cause some concern. From taking blood from his jugular (evidently a normal thing), the staff noticed that they had issues getting enough blood, meaning there may be a slower-than-normal flow to his brain.

A normal heart rate should be reflected in 10-30 breaths per minute. So far, every time I’ve checked, it’s been 11, 12, or 13.

Other than that, he seems back to normal, even if I’m still shaken from the incident.

His blood test showed an elevated liver enzyme, one that requires further testing. And the vet is unable to definitively put it together with the low blood pressure and the incident this week. This means he’ll have another blood test in 2-3 weeks, and if his enzymes are still high (or higher), he’ll need an ultrasound to further investigate what’s going on in his liver.

And only thanks to CareCredit could I afford to get Vinny the care he needs.

This is Life

I’m not sharing all of this for sympathy or platitudes about how everything will work out. I’m sharing so that people in my life know why I seem to be disappearing online and from many aspects of real life.

This is life. This is MY life. Everything I’ve done has brought me to this point.

I’ll figure it out. I don’t have answers today. I’m exploring all of my options, while watching my beloved dog breathe. I’ll think about tomorrow when I get there, and then I’ll think about the next day and the one after that.

You had a piece of my heart from the first moment I visited.

I was with some of my Cali girlfriends in 2018. We had rented a villa in Recco on the Italian Riviera. We took the train to visit you one evening, and there was something about you from the start – from the cobblestone streets under our feet from the train station to the boardwalk, and all the small shops and restaurants we passed along the way until the sea sat right there, welcoming us to your shoreline. The boardwalk is right at the water’s edge, boats docked right there and wooden benches available for visitors to gaze onto the water and past the port into the Gulf of Tigullio. I sat on one of those benches as my friends walked toward Portofino and until they found a nearby restaurant for our dinner. I vowed to return to see more of Santa Margherita Ligure, which I did on a solo trip in October 2022. That’s when I stayed at a hotel right on your shore, explored the city, and gazed upon the water from my hotel room balcony every morning and night. I knew I loved you then.

I wanted to introduce you to my family. While a tough travel day brought us into your train station, and we were already exhausted as we rolled (bounced) our suitcases down the cobblestone streets to Hotel Laurin, once we settled into our rooms – each with a balcony – your shore delivered the tranquility we all needed.

We walked, snacked, drank, and explored a bit that night, more so in the days that followed.

My sister and nieces wanted to hike all the way to Portofino, the gem that usually outshines you in the guidebooks and on tourists’ itineraries. I knew I couldn’t keep up with them, so I took a boat to Portofino to meet them there. While they enjoyed most of the hike and walking up to the castle above the town, I found the town center to be overcrowded (already in April), and the prices at local cafes were outrageous. When trying to walk further into town, away from the port, to find food and drink, most restaurant tables were “reserved” for couples or groups. They were entirely uninterested in allowing a party of one to take up precious table space. Back to the port, I paid exorbitant prices for a sandwich and cocktail, as I waited for the others to return from their castle hike so we could return to our home base together on a boat.

I saw Portofino once, and that was enough.

Back on your calmer streets, we remained in your town until the end of our trip. The family wanted to spend more time relaxing and not board any trains to other nearby towns, choosing instead to relax.

We explored your weekly market, local stores and cafes, and the boardwalk. We enjoyed Sabot and its unbelievably generous aperitivo snack plate and La Cambusa for its elegant dinner setting and fresh fish dishes, not to mention several gelaterie (gelato shops).

Ultimately, my nieces found your shore and access to the sea quite intriguing. My sister immediately saw why I fell in love with you, a small town on the sea with all of the sights and smells that make you so unique.

Tears fell as we boarded our train to leave, as it felt like I had been home again for much too short of a time. While you remain out of my price range for ever being able to stay on a long-term basis, I will visit every chance I get.

You will always be a part of my Italian story. Arrivederci. Ci vediamo presto.

It was so nice to see you again. It had been quite a few years.

I have to admit, though, that it wasn’t my decision to include you in the first trip for my sister and nieces, as I know how complicated and confusing you can be. Your sheer existence is a marvel, but a city filled with water taxis instead of cars, canals separating neighborhoods, and bridges increasing the difficulty level of any walking path presents unique challenges. But these same things also provided the intrigue that prompted them to insist on seeing you. And I don’t regret it.

Right from the start, as we emerged from the Venezia Santa Lucia train station, the water taxis (vaporetti) offered five departure stations, and it required some messages to/from the hotel to figure out which one to take. By the time we bought our tickets, boarded the correct one, exited at our stop, rolled our luggage over cobblestone streets and up/down bridges, we were worn but found our little boutique hotel and began to settle in.

By the time we emerged for dinner, we crossed paths with post-march protestors in a variety of sizes and genders, displaying flags and signs in support of Palestine, and we felt an immediate comfort in being surrounded by peaceful crowds. A dinner that included wine and fresh seafood also erased any residue from the day’s travel difficulties and set us at ease.

While we were only on your unique set of islands for a few days, we managed quite a bit of walking, boating to Murano and a famous cemetery, and delicious food.

Your ongoing battle with pigeons and seagulls was both amusing and frustrating to us as tourists, though the locals appear to have found a way to cope with the help of the Guardie Zoofile, the actual animal police who patrol the city.

You challenged us travel-wise more than any other city, with your two train stations, unique layout, and buses and trains required to find our way to our next destination. But through all of it, you made me a better traveler, a stronger and more confident person.

I hope to visit you again someday. Arrivederci! Ci vediamo presto.

When planning to introduce my sister and nieces to Italy, you were the natural starting point.

Of course, you have the largest airport but also one of my favorite hotels in the world – Albergo Cesari, now 9Hotel. While the upgrades in this hotel over the years have pushed it out of my price range, this trip was an exception, as I wanted my family to experience the rooftop bar, the feel of a boutique hotel with its large windows and top-notch service, and the location right next to Piazza di Pietra and a comfortable walking distance between the Pantheon and Trevi Fountain.

Rome, as always, you demonstrated your unique ability to treasure and preserve history while adding modern touches. From the cobblestone streets to the high-end fashion stores, from the nasoni (free water fountains) to the award-winning restaurants, you preserve everything possible while making room to stay accommodating to all of your visitors.

My family took notice of buildings that were more than a few centuries old and couldn’t be missed with open eyes, the piazzas that allowed space to revel in the city’s glory, and the care with which structures were repaired.

They also found that the tourist-filled streets, even in April, required some skill to navigate and could get overwhelming, but a quick turn down a side street delivered an entirely different experience of quiet and beauty. And even just next to a well-worn cobblestone street that connected historic and stunning monuments, they could take a seat at a tiny café table and sit for as long as they desired, ordering a coffee or cocktail without any pressure to leave. There was calm to be found in the chaos, functionality amidst the ruins, and a thriving city that has been able to balance its residents and throngs of tourists with unmatched grace.

We saw the Colosseum, Roman Forums, and Palatine Hill, though they may have seen more without me, as my knees – despite cortisone shots prior to the trip – failed me. Nevertheless, they saw much of the splendor that still stands from Ancient Rome.

We obtained tickets to enter the Pantheon, though the family wasn’t much interested in the guided tour of the lesser-seen areas. Even so, the main area was captivating enough.

Piazza Navona was beautiful, as always, though some buildings were under repair, and the underground tour was closed for maintenance.

We visited the Trevi Fountain, all of us numerous times and at different times of day – morning, afternoon, and night – and it was as glorious as I remembered. And the tour we took to Vicus Caprarius – the City of Water underneath Trevi that shows the water source and archeological ruins – was fascinating.

Rome, thanks for showing my family the joy of an espresso at a bar, free water around the city, a true carbonara dish, real gelato, the ease with which one can find fresh groceries, local wines, the kindness of Italians, the creativity of scammers (we were not victims), and the skill of city drivers. My sister began to slow down, my oldest niece discovered parks and overlooks via scooter rentals, and my younger niece got her first glimpse of European city life.

I will be back to see you again, Rome. Arrivederci! Ci vediamo presto.

When the time came to leave you again, I was filled with the joy that I found again in my recent travels but sadness that I had to jet away. Crying on the airplane as I watch you fade from the little oval window, as the plane ascends into the clouds and starts the long journey back to America, has become all too common for me.

Someday, if the laws and finances and universe come together in a way that makes it possible, I won’t have to say goodbye to you again.

Meanwhile, I reflect upon this recent visit and must thank you, Italy, for so many things.

Thank you for the sunshine and rain – best of all, more of the former. The sun glistening off the sea in Venice and especially in my favorite town of Santa Margherita Ligure fills me with calm and happiness that I have yet to find words to describe.

Thank you for the trains and walks – even the stairs – and the history seen along the journeys, history that you maintain and oversee and protect like few other countries in the world. I thank you for the canals and cobblestone streets, the markets and cafes, flowers and trees, beaches and cliffs, and all of the people along the way. I appreciate the locals who are warm and welcoming when I respect their spaces and try to speak their language, who want to share their beloved country with those who want to appreciate it, who make it possible for people like me to fall in love with Italy in new ways with every visit.

Thank you for the early mornings and simple breakfast routines, the ability to stand at a bar for my espresso or sit at an outdoor table and breathe in the sights and sounds of the streets and alleyways.

Thank you for the restricted lunches that keep my day orderly and the aperitivo hours that are truly special, complete with free foods to accompany a single drink and – again – the ability to just decompress from the day and relax.

Thanks for the late dinners that complete a day with such a variety of available options and – once more – a slow pace that allows time to think about what to eat and drink, enjoy it all, and leave when ready. There is no staff member stalking my table, laying down the receipt with the lie told by so many American restaurant workers of “no rush” but the sincere hope that I’ll leave soon and open the table for more customers. Thank you for not viewing me as a dollar/euro sign but a person who deserves good food and time to savor it. Your meals are more than just amazing foods and drinks but entire experiences that serve as more wonderful memories in my ever-growing Italy folder.

For the first time, I brought my sister and adult nieces to Italy to see your beauty and history, to experience slow living and the sweetness of doing nothing, the joy of finding free water fountains and tiny corner cafes, the responsibility of proper recycling and caring for every inch of their surroundings, the calm required in the midst of city traffic and the trust in taxi drivers to know what they’re doing, the opportunity to walk anywhere, the freshness of the food and beauty of markets, the love Italians have for their culture and country without waving flags in your face and screaming mantras that masquerade as pride. And you, Italy, did not disappoint.

While my family may not have been ready for all you had to offer, they were able to see why my relationship with you has grown and flourished into a full-blown desire to live the rest of my days, months, and years there. They took photos, sketched, dipped into the sea, drank from your fountains, breathed in the air, saw some of your varied landscapes, listened to your beautiful language, and took in as much as they could with all of their senses.

Thank you, Italy, for reminding me that I can find happiness in the world after my mother’s death. It’s been a new feeling to treasure my travels without being able to share them by text or phone with my mother, who was also my biggest supporter and champion for my desire for dual citizenship (for everything, actually). But now, as my sister has seen my joy in and love for Italy, and considering our increased closeness since we lost the rock of our little family, she can be that support for me.

Finally, thank you for teaching me some valuable lessons that I chose to note during this trip:

· I’m known for my impatience. But when I’m frustrated and alone, I know that if I take a moment with a cigarette or espresso or simply a few breaths of fresh air, I can figure my way out of a situation. I have the tools within me, thanks to my mother and my life experiences.

· I may walk more slowly than others (thanks, crumbling knees), but I get where I need to go. If I go at my own speed, I’ll eventually meet up with others but I won’t push myself too hard, rather I’ll enjoy the slow-walking experience and take in all I can from my surroundings as push my body to do its best.

· I can learn another language, now that I care to do so. The encouragement from Italians from even the slightest effort – much more effort during this trip than ever before – buoys me to keep trying and learning and pursuing this skill. Many Americans don’t value the ability to speak more than English, but I’m grateful to Italy for giving me so many reasons to stick with it. It’s paying off.

· I have creative talents, not just as a writer but in other artistic areas as well. The notebook I filled with ideas is proof that I have the mind and talent, and my desire to get to Italy is giving me the motivation to pursue them with more fervor than ever before. When I take the time to think through ideas and actually create, I have a lot to offer.

· I try my best, and that’s enough. As with the Italian language, I do the best I can at a given moment, and I can take pride in that. I wish my mother could see this realization within me after so many years of her efforts.

I have more to say to you, Italy, and I will do so in the coming days and weeks. Thanks, as always, for your inspiration and beauty. I hope to see you again soon.

Con molto affetto,

Jennifer Rose

This doesn’t mean that I don’t get restless.

Every once in a while, I make a big change, like when I moved with my cat (Sniffles, RIP) to Los Angeles in 1999. The only person I knew there was my aunt, and I had no job. I rented an apartment, found a job rather quickly, and dealt with a loneliness that I had never experienced before. But what came of that experience was meeting “the girls” who are now “the Cali girls,” though most of them live in other parts of the US now. They are my ride-or-die friends, my forever friends. I eventually landed a job at the World Poker Tour, which led to my freelance career that has lasted more than two decades, creating friendships and providing experiences along the way. I also developed a deep love for L.A. that transcends the traffic issues, networking culture, and cost of living – even though that cost eventually drove me out.

For years now, I’ve been thinking of moving to Italy. While I still have to figure out how to go about it as citizenship issues currently prohibit a full-time move, I’m doing things to make the move easier when I’m able. I’ve been going through the death cleaning process, exploring more places in Italy in which I’d want to live, and trying to establish some forms of passive income that will help finance the eventual move. When it happens, it will be – by far – the biggest change I’ve ever voluntarily made.

I’m terrified. But I’m also determined (some say stubborn), and my love for Italy helps quell my fears.

Uninvited Change

Then there are the major life changes that just happen, without permission and despite every effort to prevent them.

Without question, the most consequential change of this kind for me was the death of my mother in January 2025, and then I had to learn to live beyond that loss.

As I figured out a little more about life every day since, I’ve allowed space for more change. I’ve followed my instincts out of the poker world, for the most part, I’ve launched a series of journals (to be self-published on Amazon soon, more to come on that), and I’ve finally outlined and started the crime novel that I will finish – or come close to finishing – when I’m in Italy this month. All of this is will continue to be exponentially more difficult without my mother as my shoulder to lean on, my confidante, my cheerleader, and my biggest supporter in every respect.

Last month, I lost my little Rocco, my 14-year-old rescue, my sweet boy with so many ailments that I knew for some time he wasn’t long for this world. Making that decision to end his misery is still the hardest thing to do. Vinny has been my saving grace, my 15-year-old with issues of his own but also the strength to keep me going, a gift he doesn’t know he possesses. Now I will leave my Vinny – without his brother – at a kennel for two weeks while I traipse off to Italy, though this is a trip that my family and I booked six months ago.

This new life without my mother, without Rocco, and eventually – gulp – without Vinny is and will be different. Somehow, I’ll keep carrying on, whether it’s just going through the motions and putting one foot in front of the other or moving forward with purpose. Most days, it’ll probably be some combination of both.

Changing to Accept Change

Since it’s not in my nature to readily accept change, I have to change to learn how to embrace change. And there are multitudes of self-help articles about how to do that. In fact, there are multiple iterations of even just the “five Cs of change:”

· Calm, clarity, courage, confidence, capability

· Clarity, communication, commitment, capability, culture

· Competence, confidence, connection, character, caring

And there are five elements of change without the alliteration:

· Awareness, desire, knowledge, ability, reinforcement

· Vision, skills, incentives, resources, action plan

I suppose I can try to boil that down to five things – five is my favorite number – that apply to me and from which I can approach change, learning to roll out the welcome mat for it…or at least stop ignoring it when it knocks on the door.

I welcome all suggestions that might help me figure this out and stop fighting change every step of the way. I know this is a journey, but I should make it a little easier on myself. Right? Comments welcome.

The goal has been to become an Italian citizen in order to live there one day, and I am doing it through my Italian great-grandparents who emigrated from a small town in the Abruzzo region in the early 1900s. But a change in Italian law in March 2025 stopped my journey in its tracks.

My Italian Heritage

I am a mutt, a mix of multiple ethnic and cultural backgrounds. My last name is British, but there are also clear ties to German and French immigrants in my family. But the ethnicity that was most prominent in our household came from my maternal grandmother. Her parents made the trek from Italy to America in the early 1900s, and my grandmother had a number of sisters who spent time together, sharing their dry humor and closeness unique to Italian women. During my childhood, I remember my Italian aunts fondly. And I always remember my grandmother’s spaghetti and meatballs.

Even so, there was little Italian culture passed on through my family.

My great-grandfather, Antonio Sciarrelli, wanted to move to America from the little impoverished town of Alanno, located in the hills of Pescara in the Abruzzo region. He had married my great-grandmother, Teresa Odoardi, and they had a young daughter who died as a toddler and then a son named Mauro. I’m still researching Antonio’s family, but I believe his brother also wanted to go to America and did so separately from Antonio. So, ultimately, Antonio packed a bag and trekked from Italy’s east coast to the northern port city of Genoa, bought a one-way ticket to America, and arrived in 1902. He lived in New York for many years, working labor-intensive jobs and saving money to send for his wife and son. Years later, he sent them the money and instructions to travel to America.

Teresa did not want to move to America, but at the turn of the century, she felt she had no choice. She was raising Mauro alone, as he was a mere baby when her husband left for America, and followed her husband’s orders. In 1908, she packed up the child and whatever belongings they could carry, traveled to Genoa, and boarded a ship to America.

Antonio, Teresa, and Mauro lived in New York for several years, where their daughter Mary was born. Not long after, they made their way to the middle of America, though I’m not sure exactly what drew them to St. Louis besides job opportunities. They settled here in North St. Louis City, near only a few Italian families, while most Italians – primarily from Sicily – settled further southwest and away from the downtown area in a place now called “The Hill,” where labor jobs were aplenty and Sicilians maintained much of their heritage. Antonio, on the other hand, worked as a lamplighter in the city, and he wanted to be as American as possible. Teresa, who had little input, went along but remained relatively unhappy. She refused to learn much English, and letters from her sister in Italy showed that they missed each other dearly. And Teresa later became ill, Antonio did not keep in touch with his wife’s family, leaving Teresa’s sister to wonder why her letters ceased.

During their married life in St. Louis, my great-grandparents grew their family to a total of five girls – Mary, Angela, Josephine, Anne, and Rose Marie – while Mauro grew ill in his 20s and died. Not much is known about Mauro, why he didn’t marry or how he assimilated into American life, as there was never much talk of him in later years. The girls grew up to flourish in American schools, and they all met American men to marry, including my grandmother Rose, who fell madly in love with blonde, blue-eyed Navy officer Edward Knollman.

I only recently found out that they actually eloped in Illinois out of the sheer desire to be married, and they then exchanged vows in a St. Louis church many months later in their “official” wedding, their families being none the wiser. Eddie and Rose eventually had two daughters – Rosemary and Dorothy. My Aunt Rosemary had two sons, and they all lived (and continue to live) in California, while my mom, Dorothy, married Richard Newell and had two daughters – my sister and me.

Throughout my childhood, as I mentioned, I remember many good times with my grandparents and my grandmother’s sisters. Their husbands, aside from my grandfather, were never warm or fun people, but the sisters had an unmistakable bond.

While their Italian heritage was undeniable, they did not carry much of it in their daily lives. I never remember my grandmother or any of her sisters speaking Italian, and there were few Italian recipes in my grandmother’s repertoire besides the spaghetti and meatballs.

As an adult, I began to take more of an interest in my family history. Through pictures and my mother’s research into our genealogy, I learned more and wanted to know more. And when I traveled with my mother to Italy in the 1990s with her college alumni group, I began to fall in love with Italy.

My Italian Love Affair

The relationship with Italy only blossomed more through the years, as I traveled there with my group of California friends in 2008 and many times since, sometimes with friends and other times on my own. The love affair grew with each visit, from tiny hotel rooms to villas, from walks through side streets or along beaches, from tiny cups of espresso to pasta dinners with seafood caught that very morning.

I knew little Italian when I made my first few trips to Italy, but seeing the appreciation of the Italian people for my efforts, I wanted to learn more. Life has often gotten in the way of a steady language learning journey, not to mention my often overwhelming self-doubt and penchant for giving up, only to return a year or two later to try again.

Today, my journey is steadier, and I have finally achieved a B1 level. My upcoming trip to Italy with my sister and nieces will put that to the test in a major way, but I hope to persevere and only become more serious about following this language road to fluency.

My love affair with Italy includes the language and the food, of course, but there is more to it. When I land in Italy, there is a peace and tranquility that takes over my soul, a feeling of satisfaction and belonging, the ability to breathe and be. It is in the happy tears that flow when looking at the sea, the stories told by ancient buildings and monuments, the smell of Italian cooking and baking around every corner, and the longing to be the last one at the restaurant or in the piazza when the tourists leave. No matter the bustle of a city like Rome, the frantic chaos of changing trains, the burn of walking more than my arthritic feet and knees care to accommodate, or the challenge of putting language into practice, there is no place I’d rather be.

Italian Citizenship

With every trip to Italy came a stronger desire to live there. Each trip back to the United States ended in more sadness, and I allowed myself to dream of a life without the fear of gunfire and violent crime, a slower life that was focused more on leisurely walks than on packed schedules, a focus on fresher rather than faster foods, a life that values community over material things.

When Americans elected Trump for a second term in 2024, the desire to leave America turned into more of a mission, a necessity for my sanity and general well-being.

However, St. Louis was home, not only the place I was born and raised but the home of my mother, sister, and nieces. I wasn’t ready to leave them, and my aging dogs were growing more unlikely to qualify for immigration clearance with each year.

Even so, I wanted to pursue that citizenship for the future. I started researching. Per the paperwork within our family and what I was able to find online, I knew how to obtain most of the documents needed to apply for dual citizenship. A missing piece was the marriage certificate for my grandparents’ actual wedding in Illinois, as the location remained an elusive but necessary piece of information. I began sending away to government organizations for documents.

The plan was to apply for citizenship by filing a 1948 case through my great-grandmother. Prior to 1948, women were not recognized by the Italian government as being able to pass citizenship to their children; only men could do it. But a new Italian Constitution went into effect in 1948, granting women equal rights under the law. What this meant with regard to citizenship was that women born before 1948 now had the newly-granted right to pass down their inheritance, their name, recognition of their own Italian bloodline. Since my great-grandfather Antonio did become a US citizen (we believed) but his wife Teresa did not, only Teresa was able to pass on Italian citizenship to her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

I had a copy of the “intent to naturalize” document for my great-grandfather, so I only needed to obtain his official naturalization certificate from the US government. But since my great-grandmother did not naturalize in her own name, I needed to obtain a “certificate of non-existence” for Teresa’s American naturalization, also from the US government.

All of this required money, and what money I had set aside for the citizenship process had been spent on immigration attorneys to discuss the case I could and would file, as well as other things that happened in life that required the money. As I waited to save money again to file the actual case in the Italian court system, I requested documents.

I had to collect all of the documents that showed that my bloodline connected me to Italy, including marriage certificates that changed names, proof of births and deaths in that bloodline, etc. By trial and error, I found the location of my grandparents’ marriage and obtained their marriage certificate. And as I waited for the US government to deliver Antonio’s naturalization papers, my mother died. Though one of her deathbed requests was that I fulfill my dream of moving to Italy, my world stopped when she died. I would pursue citizenship more intently when I could breathe again.

Plot Twists

As I was grieving my mother and starting to sort through her life’s belongings and consider selling her home, the Italian government stepped in to deliver a solid punch to my Italian dream.

In March 2025, Italian Deputy Prime Minister Antonio Tajani took a huge step to curb citizenship applications in Italy. He introduced, as an emergency measure no less, what became known as the Tajani Decree, a law to restrict citizenship options to only children and grandchildren of Italian-born ancestors. The only exceptions were people who already had cases accepted by the Italian consulates or courts by March 28, 2025. For me, this meant that my intent to apply for citizenship through my great-grandparents was no longer an option.

Why? In the past, especially since the Covid pandemic, people had been applying for Italian citizenship through their ancestors in droves, many of them to simply obtain a European Union-compliant passport. The dual citizenship, especially for Americans and Brazilians, for example, allowed people to travel Europe without restrictions, buy homes simply to rent out to tourists, etc. Many of those people never lived in Italy or contributed to the Italian economy. Thus, they clogged the already heavily bureaucratic Italian system with paperwork with no real benefit for the country. To address the problem in a fashion that would prohibit the continuing surge of applications, Tajani introduced the emergency measure that was debated but ultimately approved by the Senate and then quickly moved through the Chamber of Deputies. By May 20, the legislative review had been completed, and President Sergio Mattarella signed it into law days later. The Tajani Decree became the new base law for Italian citizenship.

As that final publication of the law was happening, I received a response from the US government regarding my great-grandfather’s American naturalization paperwork. There was none. After running numerous versions of Antonio Sciarrelli’s name through the system, the United States verified that he never actually obtained his American papers to be naturalized.

My aunt – my mother’s sister – swears that she remembers her grandfather, Antonio, talking about the classes he took to learn about the American government in preparation for the citizenship test. She recalls him being so proud of doing it and becoming an official American. However, something happened that he never shared with the family. Whether he lacked the money to complete the process or simply neglected some paperwork, he misrepresented his actual status to his family.

What this meant was that my need to seek legal advice and prepare for a 1948 case had never been necessary. Since neither of my great-grandparents naturalized in the United States, my grandmother was born in America but retained her full Italian citizenship. Had I known this, I could have simply requested the certificates of non-existence of naturalization papers for both of my great-grandparents long ago and applied for citizenship through the nearest Italian consulate in Chicago. Had I obtained an appointment prior to March 2025, I would’ve been on my way to dual citizenship when the law passed.

But the new law cut right down the fine line of my situation (and so many others). Even though my grandmother was born Italian, she was born in America, and that meant I still had to apply through my great-grandparents. And the new law prohibited that.

Hope Lived

There were court challenges to the new law in Italy. And some members of the Italian Parliament had introduced updated legislation to offer a path for third-generation applicants and beyond. For example, one proposal would have offered multi-generational citizenship applications with the caveat that the applicant had to pass an Italian language test.

So far, none of those proposals have garnered enough support to pass. The court cases took time, though several important ones were scheduled for hearings in early 2026. The one that had the most potential for cases like mine was scheduled for March 11 arguments in front of the Constitutional Court of Italy in Turin. Attorneys argued that the Tajani Decree was unconstitutional, as it unfairly denied citizenship to people rightly applying through their unbroken bloodlines. This was a highly-anticipated case, though most Italian attorneys warned that it could take several months for the court to issue a ruling after the March 11 court date. However, in a stunning, unusual rebuke of the case, the court issued an almost-immediate preliminary statement after the hearing that deemed the constitutional challenges “partly unfounded and partly inadmissible.” There will be a full ruling with details and reasoning in the coming weeks or months, but in short, the new 2025 law stands as constitutional and valid.

Other cases in the coming months have the potential to tweak the new law, but there is little hope that any pending case will overturn the Tajani Decree.

Late in 2025, Italian Senator Ricard Merlo introduced a draft law to the Italian Parliament to reverse much of the Tajani Decree. It proposes that people can apply for citizenship through third and fourth generations of ancestors if they can also pass an Italian language test to prove their B1-or-better abilities.

This proposal is a longshot. Not only is Merlo no longer in Parliament, I cannot find an update on this law. Moreover, there are other court cases scheduled for April and June. No law proposals are likely to be considered until after those rulings are published.

I fully understand that the overload of cases clogging the courts with citizenship applications was onerous, not to mention the frustration of granting citizenship to people who only wanted broader EU access or the token second passport. Those who have no intention of spending significant periods of time in or moving to Italy should be more scrutinized, and the implementation of a language requirement is understandable. Personally, I believe I can pass a B-1 test now, as I am currently in B-2 level classes.

But for now, I wait…and hope.

What About a Visa?

There are a number of visas available for people who want to move to Italy. Some of them might appear to be options for me, but as I’ve researched them, I know that I am unlikely to be able to qualify for any of them.

· Investor Visa: Invest €500,000 in an Italian business, €250,000 in an Italian start-up company, €2,000,000 in Italian bonds, or donate €1,000,000 to an Italian charity. (LOL)

· Elective Residency Visa (ERV): Prove minimum passive net income of €32,000 per year, prove long-term rental accommodation or purchased property, show private health care of €30,000 coverage or higher, and vow not to work during the stay. (Obviously, I have no passive income and cannot stop working.)

· Student Visa: Show acceptance into a school for continued studies and an Italian University exchange program, as well as enrollment in an Italian University approved by the Minister of Education. Must demonstrate past study of the subject via formal education, how it advances your career, and why said studies are not available in America. (Education costs, combined with the limit on work hours during the duration of a student visa, negates this possibility for me.)

· Digital Nomad Visa: Prove remote work providing income of at least €28,000 per year, show proof of health international health insurance, and prove long-term rental accommodation or purchased property. Further, an applicant must have a university degree. (Not only is my income fluctuating as I leave the poker industry, I don’t have a college degree and cannot show that my work is specialized and integral to a business or industry. Any arguments to the contrary have been countered by people with far more experience, relevancy, and income than I being denied digital nomad visas. They are very difficult to obtain and require quite a bit of money to make the effort.)

So, without qualifying for a visa at this time, there is no path to Italian residency for me.

My only option for any type of extended stay in Italy is the 90 days in/90 days out plan. Out of every 180 days, I can only be in Italy – as a tourist or for any reason – for 90 of those 180 days. Further, I can’t simply hop over to France or another EU country for the other 90 days, as the 90 in/90 out situation pertains to the entire Schengen zone. This is a coalition of 29 European countries (mostly EU members but not exclusively) that participate in a passport-free travel zone, leaving few safe options outside of the Schengen area, though Albania is looking quite appealing, and I’ll get into that in another post. For now, the 90/90 option appears to be difficult, expensive to move every 90 days, and just complicated in many ways.

Current Status

I wait. And I plan to visit Italy as often as possible. In the very near future, I am traveling to Italy with my sister and nieces to introduce them to the country, to show them some of the highlights and why I’ve fallen so deeply in love with the country. I will soak up every moment as I steal moments in cafes and piazzas to brainstorm, write, and try to devise plans that will bring Italy and me closer together.