To be friends with Don Lurio was to sign up for a life where you never knew if you’d end up crying with laughter or needing to call a lawyer. He was a human firecracker—one of the most crazy, funny, and utterly adorable people to ever grace this planet. Having him as your friend was the universe’s way of promising you a front-row seat to the most hilarious show on earth, with a 50/50 chance it might also land you in a tiny bit of deep, deep trouble.
Don was an American dancer of immense talent, who pirouetted out of Roland Petit’s company and into the heart of Italy, where he promptly became ITALY’S MOST LOVED CHOREOGRAPHING DANCE PERSONALITY EVER!!! (The title is as gloriously over-the-top as the man himself). The country was absolutely, certifiably, and rightfully crazy about him. He was a one-in-a-million whirlwind of sequins and sass.
Our story, however, takes a slightly mischievous turn.
After a glorious career of choreographing for and dancing with Caterina on movie sets and TV shows from Rome to Hollywood, their final collaboration landed them in Switzerland. Now, unbeknownst to Caterina, Don, in a moment of what we’ll charitably call “artistic inspiration,” decided to “borrow” a little number. And by “borrow,” I mean he presented Caterina with a full-blown, carbon-copy replica of Shirley MacLaine’s (and the genius Tony Charmoli’s) iconic choreography for “If They Could See Me Now.”
The curtain went up, Caterina went on, and then… someone went and told her. The realization dawned: her grand finale was, in fact, a brilliant, pre-loved hand-me-down. And she was, to put it mildly, really pissed.
The universe, however, has a wicked sense of timing. Shortly after this artistic… let’s call it a “homage”… Don, our beloved tornado of a man, had a heart attack. Thankfully, he had the excellent taste to have this medical emergency in a city with one of the world’s best heart hospitals. After a lot of panic and worry, everything turned out fine. Don was on the mend.
And Caterina? What could she do? Of course, she did the show. She kicked and spun and grinned through the “borrowed” routine, because the show must go on, especially when your friend is driving you nuts from a hospital bed. And she was, from the bottom of her heart, thrilled and relieved when Don was back to his fully healthy, mischievous self again.
But let’s be honest: forever after, whenever she thought of that number, there was a certain… artistic aftertaste she just couldn’t quite swallow. It was the peculiar flavor of being part of a truly unforgettable Don Lurio story—equal parts love, laughter, and a pinch of pure, unadulterated plagiarism. And that, in a nutshell, was the magic and the mayhem of being his friend