Maybe she was kidding.

There ain't an Italian look, seems to me. When I watch Italians trek down the streets all over Italy, they look just like Americans. A hodge-podge of nationalities. All sorts of facial features. And hair color. And eye color. I once had an idea of a stereotypical Italian. A little bit dark. Brown eyes. Black hair. A big, awkward nose. The other night at a concert at a theater in Carbonia, I told my Italian true love that the woman sitting in front of us was once my vision of the typical Italian. And I wasn't kidding. My true love was aghast. She thought the woman wasn't particularly good-looking. Especially her nose. Of course, my nose is no prize either. More like W.C. Fields' bulky red snoze. Anyway, Italians don't look Italian. And I base that judgment on the fact that Italians look pretty much like the people I see on the streets back in Minnesota. A state settled mostly by Scandinavians and Germans. Meanwhile, my true love says that I'd have difficulty passing for an Italian. She's told me I look a little like Boris Yeltsin or Walter Matthau. Maybe she was kidding. Thought I looked more like the king of Sweden. --Jim Broede