The only Episode thus far with a coda to its title. And why?
Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Signore Massimo Volpedo:
*
Pinky entered, hat in hand, and nodded to Mrs. Dalton. He was vaguely conscious that he was throttling the windpipe of his hat again, and willed himself to relax his hands. “Ahh, Mrs. Dalton, ever so good. I wonder—is El—er, is Miss Norcross in? I won’t take up too much of her time.”
Mrs. Dalton gave him such a peculiar look, one that seemed to mix peril with intrigue, that he actually looked behind himself to see if an organ grinder’s monkey or something similar might be taking up her attention in the rear of the room. “Mr. DeVroom. This is a surprise.”
She took the pencil she was holding and set it on the papers in front of her. “She is in conference at the moment, but I will buzz her and announce your arrival.” She picked up her phone’s receiver and was about to punch a button on its console when Elfred emerged from her office, laughing. Laughing with a man, who was escorting her out by the arm. A tall, tall, not dark, handsome man.
Pinky’s hat was not likely to survive. Elfred stopped, as did her companion; both stared. Elfred reddened, and then frowned. “Pinky, we had no appointment.” She turned to Mrs. Dalton and said, “Inverness, that’s correct, is it not? Pinky and I weren’t scheduled?”
Mrs. Dalton (Inverness?) closed her open mouth, but pried it open again before she spoke. “No, Miss Norcross. No appointment.”
Elfred turned back to Pinky, but before he spoke, the tall man stepped forward, showing a Vesuvius eruption of large, perfect teeth. He held his hand outstretched, and bounded over to Pinky. “Pinky? Pinky DeVroom, the author? You I know. Stolen Keys, si? You are the maestro!”
Pinky drew back slightly, and started to stretch out his hand, but the fellow grabbed him in a tight pas de deux, hugging him close and whirling him around the room. Pinky’s hat sighed and gave up the ghost, falling lifeless to the floor. The fellow released Pinky, allowing him a desperate intake of breath.
“Massimo! I am Massimo Volpedo, of the Shakespeare and Company connection. I know your work, this sly Malacong Dall, stupendo!” He clapped Pinky on the shoulder, and it was all Pinky could do to remain standing. Pinky, speechless, was gazing at Massimo as though he was a ten-story flaming asteroid, a second away from engulfing him.
Elfred stepped in. “Pinky, it seems that we needn’t go through any formalities, now that Massimo has vaulted over them. He is here to discuss the potential contract between Eckleburg’s and Shakespeare & Company, as I mentioned. We were just on our way to lunch.”
Pinky’s reptile brain had kept him upright, and now his cortex took command. He smiled as best he could to Elfred and then at the Italian asteroid. The asteroid was perhaps six-and-a-half-feet tall, perhaps taller, at least a full eight inches taller than Pinky. His hair a burnished gold. His moustache the same. His shoulders broader than a cliché can bear. His suit, a lustrous, almost glowing grey with—could it be?—the thinnest of pink pinstripes—eschewed the pretense of shoulder pads. The narrow but gigantic gleaming shoes something a count would wear.
A thought that the day would have been better spent at the museum winged through Pinky’s head. But his driverless car plunged on.
“But, but, you can’t be the Italian. You’re blond!”
Volpedo cocked his head to the side and glanced at Elfred, golden eyebrows raised. Then he laughed, a free, open laugh like a flock of birds released to the sky. “Pinky, the blond? Yes, yes, we Italians are blond. We are everything!”
He laughed again, and Pinky reflexively stepped on his hat. “Pinky, my family is Bolognese, many blondes. But we have many pelle scura, the darker skin, in my family too. We are the rainbow!” He loosely waved his hands in the air and smiled the smile of a thousand torches.
*
Who is our character Massimo Volpedo? How to conceive of our “ten-story flaming asteroid” of a man?
Close your eyes. Take a deep breath, clear your mind, banish all stray and stressful thoughts from your awareness. Center yourself and relax your body.
Now, think back to a day. One of those rare, special days that stands out in your life as one of the very finest you’ve ever experienced. A day when you felt in excellent physical shape and also, enjoyed experiences and shared human connection and love in its most meaningful forms.
Put another way, if we live to be 90 years old, we experience 33,000 days. That one you’re thinking of is one of the ten best of them all.
Got the memory in your mind? Channeling the joyous emotions from that point in your life? Well, now you understand how Massimo feels on a bad day. A day when much goes wrong.
For Massimo Volpedo loves life, and the people he encounters, with such an outrageous intensity that his reactions to life’s setbacks are not like those of the rest of us. This is for two specific reasons:
(1) When Massimo encounters flaws in his fellow humans, he seamlessly embraces the fact that we all have flaws. Of course we do, he reasons; it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because human flaws are all around us, all the time. We never live a moment without them. But rather than focus on those flaws, Massimo elevates his fellows. Not by lecturing or scolding us. He works his magic simply by being joyous, and leading us to solve life’s problems with delight, not in misery.
(2) When Massimo encounters those problems that come up all the time in our lives–little ones, big ones, their scale doesn’t matter to him–he views the problem at hand primarily as a way to engage people in solving that problem together. It’s the togetherness, the delight of human connection, that Massimo sees as primary. The problem itself? To him, it’s a secondary thing.
What about tragedies, you might ask? What about the ultimate tragedy, when someone dies? We don’t get to see that in Shrub, not yet anyway, but rest assured that even then, Massimo’s main concern would be providing comfort to the mourning and, as always, in bringing people together in order to work through their grief with human connection; never alone.
When you’re having a bad day, remember Massimo’s two principles:
Respond to human flaws by elevating all involved, and
Respond to life’s problems by engaging human connection. By bringing people together.