American expat John Henderson on his 60th birthday in Syracuse, Sicily. Photo: Marina Pascucci There’s always a time of reflection when milestone birthdays come and go. Pessimists think, Where have I been? Optimists think, Where am I going? I turned 60 two weeks ago, and I’m looking at it from a different perspective. So where am I now? The perspective comes from living the last two years and three months in Italy. It’s a country that the overworked and underloved American dreams about while slaving away at a computer in hour No. 12 or dragging child No. 3 to soccer practice. This country leaves a taste in your mouth that lasts forever, whether it’s a perfectly seasoned pasta amatriciana or the kiss of your first Italian woman. You could spend a lifetime chasing that same taste. You can only find it here. Photo: Remstar 9/Flickr I found it here, in Rome, after an 11-year absence. As I settle in with my A.S. Roma bathrobe and cappuccino maker for the last third of my life, I recently cocooned myself in self reflection. The experiences I’ve had cover 157 blogs. But one moves to Italy for more than a glass of Barolo…