There cannot be much more of a defining character of what distinctly separates modern American from Western European societies (well, at least those in Italy) than our divorce industry.s charateristics and strategies.
 Just stroll around in Northern Italy’s train stations and ‘bars’ as a single American guy, and the question will come up:
“Are you divorced?â€
I was in the Florence a couple of weeks in the fall of ‘04 to visit my daughter Bianca.Â
One evening during my umpteenth time of dining alone near my downtown ‘base station’ hotel, a tired waiter roughly my age sat at his last customer’s table across from me.Â
We chatted for quite a while.Â
‘ivergogna’.
 What does that word mean?Â
‘disgrace’.
 Oh. Yep. ’tis.
 (pause)…..
Che cosa quella media?
(another pause?) que? (wrong language, but whatever)
I am asking you what that means.
 What what means?
’tis.
 oh. It’s a connotation for ‘It is’.
 ah.
…and so on and so forth. He asked me a bunch of questions about divorce, and why we don’t like women, when we have beautiful women, and whatever man who doesn’t like them must be gay or …(forgot the word he used–I’ll just say…) ’crazy’.
Well, let me tell you…
 (me rambling on like the well-rehearsed machine on this subject, the societally destroying American divorce paridigm, how it’s a travesty and so on, blah blah).
My waiter was on the money when, after a mutually long silence, he shared his discription for us:
“Barbaricos!â€
Â
