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Paolo Does Europe - Sept. 13

I'm kicking it from my hostel in Verona. This place is huge! It's a converted monastery up a hill and across the river from town. Time to continue the F*** You list.

F*** You:

3. Lonely Planet for not having a map or much else to offer about Verona.

I was screwed when I got off the train with no direction of where to go, but fortunately I met a friendly Polish couple my age who knew where they were going. The girl was way hot but didn't speak English or Italian.

4. Hostels located so far away from train stations that I have to take a bus or taxi to get to them.

I mean, what the hell? I don't know which stop to take. Thankfully, a woman on our bus today told the Polish couple and me that we had missed our stop.

5. Dog shit on the street. I knew I'd eventually step in it and today I did.

6. Renovations. The Duomos in Milan and Florence are under renovation, as are the Colosseum in Rome and several churches in Venice. Oh, how scaffolding can ruin a sightseeing tour.

7. Pigeons. Stop trying to steal my food when I'm trying to eat outside.

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I eventually located my hostel with the Polish couple, got settled in and went out on foot to explore Verona, the location of Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet." Verona reminds me a lot of Florence. It's very clean (except for the dog shit I stepped in) and scenic. It's not too easy to navigate, but I still managed.

Tomorrow I'm off to Venice, so long as there aren't too many stairs. I'm hoping my leg will keep up. My knee is still killing me.

Editor's note: Paolo went a little photo crazy in Verona.

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Paolo Does Europe - Sept. 12

I am in pain today. My right knee is giving out for reasons I know not. I especially notice it when I’m walking up and down stairs. The pain has put me in a bit of a bad mood, so I’ve put together a “F*** You” list. F*** You:

  1. Right knee. You’re a real buzzkill right now.
  2. Bugs. My legs and arms are all eaten up and itchy. I mean, my left leg looks like a mine field, and I’ve even got a bug bite on my cheek.
  3. TBD.

On to happier things: I spent my last day in Florence yesterday getting outside of downtown. In the morning I climbed up some hills and took some nice landscape photos. Those Gonzaga brats who study abroad here have it good. At 2 p.m. (14:00) I took a wine tour in Tuscany’s Chianti region, between Florence and Siena, for just $37E. Score!

The group on the wine tour was mostly older British and American couples. I could tell this because a) they looked old and b) they all wore expensive, huge jewelry and designer clothing or PGA-embroidered shirts and hats. I was the youngest by at least 15 years, except for an Aussie couple my age.

Our first stop was at a castle named Il Palagio. We toured the estate and wine cellars before going into a tasting on the patio. There were tables of eight and I strategically sat with a family of four – an older couple with their daughter and son-in-law. Each table received three bottles of wine regardless of vacancies. The older woman didn’t really drink, so basically the four of us drank twice as much as everyone else – three bottles down in just under an hour. We were plastered. And in our glorious inebriated conversation, I learned that:

  1. Both couples were celebrating wedding anniversaries.
  2. Both men are Marines. The older man has been retired for nearly 10 years, but was called into duty for Iraq and currently works with Boeing there in some capacity.
  3. The son-in-law got out of the Marines after four years and now makes several million dollars a year as a private government contractor.

In one of my enthusiastic interjections into the conversation, I managed to accidentally fling one of my several wine glasses off the table. It shattered, and applause broke out to which I stood and took a bow and blew kisses to my supporters. I seemed to be everyone’s friend after that.

Our next stop was a hilltop church. It was adorable and all that, but I was completely distracted by my bladder. All that wine at the castle caught up to me. I saw an open gate to a nearby vineyard. I took a couple nice photos just inside the gate (as cover) and then relieved myself behind a shack. It was a tripod-worthy experience. I took so long, in fact, that I had to jog to catch up with the group afterwards so that I wouldn’t miss my bus.

We stopped by a small town called Greve, and then proceeded to another little town, the name escapes me, where we had dinner. I ate a variety of tasty pastas and veal. I sat with a couple cougars who’d been hitting on me since the castle, two male OBGYNs (“You were a forceps delivery? Cool!”) and the young Aussie couple.

Our group was the youngest delegation on the tour, even though the median age was about 40. The Aussies represented and took all of the unempty bottles of wine from other tables from our group who were “drinking responsibly” and we finished the bottles off. I’d probably drank near three bottles of wine total by this time.

On the bus ride home, the OBGYNs and Aussies encouraged singing and the lady Aussie persuaded me to duet with her on the Bloodhound Gang anthem, “You and me baby ain’t nothing but mammals, so let’s do it how they do on the Discovery Channel” – over the bus intercom. I think all the seniors actually loved it. Their frowns and looks of confusion only masked their appreciation.

At some point, I recall proposing to our tour guide, Sonja, but I don’t remember all of those details. I do know that I am still single, so something fell through there.

We got back into Florence and parted ways. The cougars gave me their email addresses, of course. I still felt a bit tipsy and thought I should get some more food in me. I went into a restaurant nearby the hostel and ate like a king for my second dinner of the evening. Good lasagna. AMAZING chicken cattiatore. Most Italian meals I feel either Dad or I could make just as good, but this was by far the best cattiatore I’ve ever had: slow cooked and served on the bone from which the meat fell off at touch. I ate another tiramisu for dessert (second of the night), but it was just OK. I went back to the hostel, once again overly full, and crashed.

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Walking back to my car after some shopping downtown, I witnessed something amazing: Kenna and Beard standing on one of Westlake Center's busy corners, handing out neon flyers for a clothes sale.

I am so happy right now.

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I was just told by a colleague that some PR person tried pitching a CNET reporter on Facebook! Poor form. I mean, at least make a friend request first.

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I know some of you are confused by the Writer's Guild strike hoopla in Hollywood. So am I, my friends.

But alas, in this time of despair and confusion, an angel has come down to explain to us what the strike is all about.

Understanding the Strike
By now you may have heard that The Office has shut down production. This is true. They cleaned out my trailer and just delivered me 3 boxes of my stuff. It is pretty surreal. We cannot produce new episodes of The Office until the Writer's Guild strike is over.

You might be confused about the issues of the strike and I'm hoping that this blog can make it a bit clearer. (I should probably tell you that I support my head writer/producer Greg Daniels and the writing staff of The Office in their decision to strike.)

The big issue in this negotiation involves the Internet. If you go to NBC.com right now, you can watch an episode The Office for free. The network runs advertisements while you're watching it, which gives them an extra source of revenue. The actors, writers, producers and director, the people who created the content you are watching, are not compensated in any way for this.

The Writer's Guild has taken the position that the writers should receive residuals if the show re-airs on the Internet just like they receive residuals if it re-airs on television since in both cases the studios are making money. The issue is a huge deal, because the Internet is clearly where the future of entertainment lies.

Right now, a number of successful shows (like Lost for one) have stopped showing repeat episodes on TV at all, and have replaced them with ad-supported streaming video on their websites. If you're a Lost writer, or actor, or director, or a teamster that's no residuals at all for that show, and that's a big pay cut. We all count on the extra income that residuals provide as it can help us through a slump in our career when we aren't working as regularly. It is our safety net. In 10 years I may need those residual checks to cover my electric bill. You never know. Hollywood is a fickle town. If in 10 years, everything is rerun on the Internet, the current union contracts say the studios don't have to pay us a dime. And, I'll be sitting in the dark.

I hope that helped to explain things a little. For more…

Here is a video of our awesome writers on the picket line. They are funny even on strike:

Oh...there are only 2 unaired original episodes of The Office left. And, I'm sad to say the one we were getting ready to shoot was going to be the funniest of the year. I'm sure of it. They've been pitching this particular story idea for over 2 years…it involves Pam and Jim being in Michael's home but that's all I'll say. I hope we get to shoot it soon. Let's all stay strong and hope that the strike can end soon.

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In a comment on the blog, someone asked: "Will the Writer's Guild include other industry workers when negotiating with executives?"
Jenna responded: "The Writers Guild only negotiates for writers. However, they are the first union contract to be up with the studios. The Actor's Guild contract is up in June 2008 and you can bet we will be fighting for the same residuals. It is important to support the writer's strike because the results of this strike will trickle down to the other union contracts...just like how a court ruling effects future rulings."
There you have it. Beauty, charisma, intelligence and an explanation about the Writer's Guild strike all embodied in Jenna Fischer. Thanks, Jenna. You are still my #1 MySpace friend.