Facebook today reminds me of my childhood; growing up in Casaprota, Italy. Every summer the train of clabularius filled with slaves and gladiators would make its way through my town to the Colosseum in Roma. My mother and I would travel by donkey with a collection of wares to sell or trade outside the Colosseum. I would sneak off into the amphitheater to watch the battles, and at the bloody end, the crowd would be silent and Emperor Antoninus would determine the fate of the gladiator. Thumbs down was the worse and make the hair on my arm stand straight up… but it worked the crowd into a uproarious frenzy. Ah, those were the days.
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