Germany? Hey man, what the heck do you mean?
Well, vagaries of destiny. In the whole daily madness, what does it matter?
The lifelong aspiration was to get out toward USA or Europe, Italy per esempio.
But Germany … not even in my craziest dreams!
The long years coi Figlioli di Don Bosco (!?) had disposed the inclinations of the adolescent and nourished my fantasies and fancy plans, moreover they showed
me, under other perfectly superfluous things, the beauty and sonority of the
Italian language that already captivated me then, and that I learned to master
con discreta infamia, come allora si diceva.
Years later, already in São Paulo, in an old big room of the legendary Martinelli
Building the great reporter called Barda [J. C. Bardawil] appears one day and —astonished at my talent for Neapolitan songs and operatic arias, learned at the Seminary— begins to gesticulate in that special electric way he alone mastered
and says, in a mix of friendly advice and peremptory order, hey kid, look, here
you're only wasting your time and talent. Find a way out and leave for Italy.