As I wrote a few months ago here, on a midsummer night a car gently smashed into my Ford Fiesta left parked in the street. Noone noticed the noisy event, me neither (it was a good hit indeed: I had my car back from the autobody mechanic a month and a half later).
The morning after I was waken up by the ringing of my doorbell: it was the driver who, embarassed, admitted his guilt.
Well.. I don’t know how the things usually work there, in Canada / Usa, but here in Italy.. I mean.. I probably met the one-in-a-million HONEST italian guilty driver.
I was so dazzled, so happily overwhelmed by all this integrity / uprightness to declare “Sooner or later, dear wannabe stuntman, I’ll be knocking at your door with a.. car-accident commemorative cake”.
And so.. here it is, pictured above.
A few days ago I paid him a visit, and I brought that chocolate and cream jewel with me.
A promise is a promise.
(for the record: after we gobbled up two generous slices each, we had some laughs while sipping a coffee)

I’m so ignorant about songs from the 60s and the 70s, thus I’ve never heard of this song by Burt Bacharach (that I know and like) as sung by Dionne Warwick.
Ok, it’s not a video.. but this song is sooo gorgeous. So take this slideshow and shut up!
Enjoy



Burt Bacharach / Dionne Warwick - Promises, promises (1968)

(* “bonus malus” is ancient Latin. It’s a formula. You have not been guilty of any accident in the last year? Good. This is a “bonus”. Thumbs up! You move from, like, level 4 to level 3, and next year you’ll pay a little less for your car insurance. You’ve been driving like a drunk mole on acid and you destroyed a police car? You receive a “malus”. You fall from level 4 to level 6. And next year you’ll have to sell your mama to get the money to pay your insurance broker).