The golden years of Happy Giorgia

Rome, Parioli district, Muse area, Parnaso restaurant. The chat organised by government spokespeople to give each other a warm welcome at the start of summer – though not yet at the end of the parliamentary term – had circled a date in red: 16 July, everyone for dinner, everyone at the piano bar. Silvia Cirocchi, spokesperson for Minister Musumeci, is the chat administrator, and Cirocchi’s colleagues may well have thought that, given the precarious nature of the political situation, entrusting the organisation of the dinner to the Civil Protection Agency would be a guarantee of stability. Present: Vincenzo Nigro (Tajani), Francesco Condoluci (Casellati), Silvia Cirocchi (Musumeci), Diego Fulco (Defence), Gianmario Mariniello (Calderone), Emiliano Arrigo (La Russa), Francesco Kamel (Piantedosi), Pietro Tatafiore (former spokesperson for Giuli), a large delegation from Minister Foti (Giulia Pelosi, Arianna Cioffi), Francesco Ciaraffo (Bernini), described by the diners as "the heroic one", the "stoic" Fabio Miotti (Urso), Giacomo Zobbio (Calderoli), Silvia Strada (formerly with Santanché, now with Mazzi), and Carlotta Sabatino (Ciriani).

The evening’s menu: prosciutto and mozzarella and fried snacks as starters, gin and tonic pasta galore. Notable but excused absences included Iva Garibaldi (Giorgetti) and Fabrizio Alfano (Meloni). Up at the Bar, they’re singing “Il cielo è sempre più blu”. And then the whole repertoire of Max Pezzali. There’s a widespread realisation that the nostalgia for the years sung about by Max Pezzali may soon become nostalgia for the years in government with Meloni, as the ticking of the clock begins to speed up. Someone murmurs about a possible cabinet reshuffle after 5 September. Changes on the horizon at the Interior Ministry? Changes on the horizon at the Ministry of Infrastructure and Transport? If Salvini moves to the Interior Ministry, who’ll go to Infrastructure? Does Zoppas really want to be a minister? Rumours, half-hearted whispers – nobody believes them. Everything will stay the same, perhaps. The bet of the evening: when will the election be held? April wins by a whisker, no, June; there are also plenty of votes for September, the end of the parliamentary term. Max Pezzali’s songs are playing. Again. There are those who swear – perhaps lying – that they’ve heard contemporary adaptations of Pezzali’s golden years. The golden years of great stability. The years of “Happy Giorgia” and Ralph Mantovan. The years of massive election campaigns. The years when the budget was set at two lire. The years when “Che belli erano i rival” was all the rage. Cheers and have a good summer.