Photo credit: Carol Madigan

   The abrupt passing of my birthday having exhausted my supply of get-out-of-sightseeing-free cards, the remainder of our stay in Venice would be focused on seeing things. I was fine with this setback for two reasons. One, I could see the joy rise in Carol’s face as she saw the things she saw, and, two, most of these things she saw could be seen with me being “sat” at a cozy café, quietly enjoying a glass or carafe as she saw them. If, as an adult, you reflect the temperament you possessed when you were young, I must have been a wonderful child. I can imagine my parents taking me anywhere, and then forgetting I was with them.

   Sights in Venice line up like dominoes begging to be knocked down one after the other. At Piazza San Marco, Carol seated me at what was the “oldest coffee house in the world,” dating back to 1720. At 11,50 euros for a cup and 13 for a glass, I could see how the place was able to turn enough profit for all these centuries. I sat in the shadow of San Marco’s bell tower, from which Venetian Doges tossed out their political rivals and critics. Not a bad place to jump from, either, I thought, should Carol return from her meanderings with a pair of tickets to climb it. 

   I managed to hang in on my own recognizance for the Bridge of Sighs, but returned to my regular position ensconced by wicker for the Rialto Bridge. I’d like to be able to say that coming face to face with these famous sights would soften my attitude about sightseeing. But seriously, the Rialto Bridge is essentially just a medieval version of a strip mall, famous as well for its reference in The Merchant of Venice (“What’s new on the Rialto?”). The Bridge of Sighs was a transfer site to the Doge’s dungeons for those unfortunates unlucky enough to not have gotten thrown off the San Marco bell tower. They would have one last look at freedom and sigh. Get it? Frankly, imagining a son of the Renaissance hurtling down from the bell tower for challenging the ruling authority would be more sight worthy. IMHO.

“I must have been a wonderful child. I can imagine my parents taking me anywhere, and then forgetting I was with them.”

   The remainder of the “must sees” were two of Venice’s neighboring Island communities. Murano is famous for its glassblowing, the souvenirs of which are now blown in China. Burano is renowned for its lace millinery and its colorfully painted houses. My interest in either industry stopped at a wine glass and a red and white checked tablecloth, both of which were secured while Carol trundled off for souvenirs for the family and photos. I was well into a jug of house white by the time Carol rejoined me. All the sightseeing boxes having been checked, Carol and I enjoyed a final Venetian meal off the Rialto, and then returned home for a little packing before our next stop: Rome.

   Oh, about the title. So how do you make a Venetian blind? You poke him in the eyes with a sharp stick.

   Hah!