We entered a bar in the small town of Vedano Olona, Italy. We ordered the locals' drink of choice, named something like the dark black blackness or some such, even though the drink is far from black in color. It is a mix of spumante, Campari, vermouth, and possibly bitters, and is an enchanting red hue.
We waited for the server to mix the drinks, a time consuming process because of all the ingredients and because they bring it out stratified in layers.
On the large projection screen behind us played a Kid Rock song I have never heard before, "All Summer Long."
The song reminds me a lot of my late teens and early twenties hanging out on the lakes of Wisconsin, although we had a few less women pole dancing in bikinis.
It struck me as odd that such a song would be playing in a small town in Italy. I wondered how much of the cultural reference would transfer. For that matter, I wondered how the song would seem to someone from the city of New York or maybe Los Angeles, where such small town reminiscences would possibly seem just as foreign.
Perhaps audiences are just taken in by the sampling of "Werewolves of London" which later gets mashed-up with the chord progression from "Sweet-Home Alabama."
I sipped my drink, content, but also craving the water of a far off place.