I simply must tell a story.

On December 27^th at about 4:45 PM, some friends and I were strolling down 10^th street in the Pearl District and we passed a big sign that read, “Amoré.” Immediately, as should be expected, Catherine and I began to sing the song…

Me: When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore.

Catherine: When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine, that's amore.

Together (we fumbled through these lyrics… not sure if they were correct): Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling, And you'll sing "Vita bella!" Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay, like a gay tarantella.

Me: When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool, that's amore…

(I stopped singing and looked to Catherine)

Catherine: I don’t know the rest of the words.

Me: Neither do I.

At that moment, something magical happened. An old man walking in front of us turned around and triumphantly finished our song for us.

Old man: When you walk down in a dream but you know you're not dreaming signore. Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli, that's amore!

Many smiles were had.