So, what does this mean to us folks that live here? The airports are shut down. So are the train stations. Tourists planning to leave today might just as well find a café and have a beer or twenty, as I'm sure they've already discovered. Also striking are bus drivers, ticket sellers, teachers, the post office, some bank employees, garbagemen, factory workers, truck drivers, and the vast majority, if not all, of the people who work for the state. Better not have a medical emergency today, as they're down to a skeleton staff. The trams, as mentioned, are still running. This is, I believe, in order to ferry in union members from the suburbs and outskirts of the city. Never fear, though, the tram workers will still get their day. Or, in fact, night-- they start striking at six o'clock this evening.

Oh, and the scientologists on Via Torino have also called it a day. Not their type of clients, really-- they want the fat cats with full wallets-- so you can hardly blame them.

Not that all trams are still running. Many routes are stopped by the demonstrations and rallies and parades and so forth. I live at Demo-Central, and so far, it doesn't sound like there is any trouble. I can hear the occasional blurt of loud-speaker, and there has been one siren. Just one, attached to one vehicle. Considering two of the main rallies are taking place in my neighborhood-- one block to the north and two blocks to the south-- it is very quiet. The anti-war demos made more noise, and they were relatively small and quiet here in Milan. By contrast, Milan is supposed to be having the largest protests in Italy outside of Rome. Well, that's what the papers said: I would think that Turin, Genova, and possibly Bologna would be more likely. Not that I know for sure: the journalists were on strike yesterday, so no papers today (excepting the ones owned by Silvio Berlusconi and his best buddy.) The TV stations are showing nothing but variety shows, variety concerts from a few years ago, and dubbed American and Spanish soaps. Which is pretty much par for the course, come to think of it, although the news at noon has been cancelled. The all news station is showing reruns. Osama bin Laden could be having coffee and holding a news conference in Caffé Guido (a full two minute walk from my abode), and I would have no way of knowing.

I was supposed to go to yoga this morning. And I was ready to go, prepared to walk if needed as there was confusion as to just what the tram-drivers would decide to do. I haven't gone to class, you know, for weeks due to trips, meetings, and My Plumbing Hell.. I was psyched. Elvis planned to walk most of the way with me on his way to work. I figured it would take about 45 minutes, perhaps a bit more if the strikers decided to throw up some blockades. Hey, they do in France. It's been 20 years since a GS in Italy, so who knows? I'm all about expecting the worst. But I didn't need to today. Yvette called to cancel class. Seems everyone else called and cancelled, so it wasn't worth renting the room. Yvette seemed to think folks were just using the strike as an excuse for a day off, and I'm inclined to agree. Wimps.

So I went to buy cigs and see if the grocery store was open today. And, you know, everything looked pretty normal. The trams were running, which actually isn't all that normal as of late. The stores were open, or at least those that are normally open at that time of the morning. The guy in the betting shop was actively cheerful. What it wasn't was crowded. I did see a bunch of teenagers marching to the castle with pro-union banners. Polite teenagers, at that. I think they were the same ones from the Anti-War-in-Afghanistan protest I got mixed up in several months back. ("Hey, Umberto! Move your ass! This lady's late to meet friends at the museum and needs to get through.")

So I decided to walk to Standa. Stopped in FNAC on the way, and got some books (no Otherland, yet, btw) and Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season II, part 1 on DVD, which is cool because we've been missing that one. We've watched most of the second half out of desperation, since you never know when the missing parts will show up. Now we get to find out where those British vampires came from, etc. Yay us. No one was working check-out (casualties of the strike?), but the managers were checking us out at the information desk, so that was OK.

Then I went to the grocery, which is in the basement right next door to FNAC. Slim pickings, as the truck drivers and delivery people seem to be on strike as well. That meant no Coca-Cola, which will disappoint Elvis, but he drinks too much Coke anyway. I got him Sprite instead, as his only other choice was caffeine-free Coke, and what's the point, really? There were check-out staff at Standa, so no problem there.

Then I went upstairs, out the door, and into a parade.

Poor protesters. It had started to rain and they were soggy and dejected. Their red flags were limp, and someone had lacked the foresight to use waterproof paint on the home-made banners. They were making a good show of it, though. The loud-speakers were still working, although for how long I don't know as someone had also forgotten to bring along some plastic or something to protect them. And they started to sing. Catchy tune, I'll have to find out what it was.

So I marched with them for a while.

Well, in a manner of speaking. I had to cross the street somehow to get home, and the groceries were too heavy for me to stand around waiting for them to pass. And they were going my way. So I marched along, and gradually edged my way to the other side of the street. When I hit Via Spada, I turned off toward home.

I sort of missed them. It felt lonely on the side streets. No camaraderie. And it turned out I could have gone further toward the Duomo anyway, as when I hit Via Dante via the side streets, there was hardly anyone there.

It's a standard nightmare: what if you threw a party and nobody came?

I really hope the rain didn't put a damper on things everywhere. I want to see Mr. Berlusconi sweat inside that ridiculously expensive suit. He is the richest man in the country. He controls the media; both public and private now that he's prime-minister. I won't even get into the corruption trials, and the convictions overturned because he can throw money at his lawyers so they can delay things until Italy's idiotic statute of limitations can nullify not just trials, but verdicts he's appealed. Nor will I get into his way of solving conflict-of-interest problems by forcing through legislation invalidating the conflict-of-interest laws themselves.

No, I just want to see Silvio without his trademark shit-eating grin.

Just once.