I’m one of the lucky ones. Bob introduced me to the walled city of Lucca, and through his eyes, I soon appreciated its warmth and beauty. I vividly remember just after I arrived listening to Bob converse with the local butcher, ordering meat for dinner. Confidence and joy filled his words. Surely linguists would find error, but that butcher loved it. Lucca is an enduringly Italian place, and it embraced Bob as un vero Lucchesi. Linguistic butchery perhaps, but grammatical perfection and flawless diction do not necessarily equal communication. The Lucchesi never saw it coming: wielding only his tongue, Bob scaled the walls and conquered Lucca.