Wednesday, February 8, 2012

My Friend Pete

                                                              PETE

My mentor was Italian whom I worked for when I was a college student. His name was Pete Rigutto, we call his nephew “Repete”.
Pete is long gone now.

Although Pete probably never went beyond high school, I believe he was the most intelligent man I have ever been around, in so many ways.

Pete began his training as a marble mason early, walking over the Dolomites to central Europe with his dad, slacking their own lime to use for mortar after World War One.

During the Depression, living with his mother he raised pheasants, trapped salmon, and grew vegetables around their Portland home. He told me they would catch pheasants in a net trap they set up, I don’t know exactly how this worked. Salmon were plentiful in those days in S. E. creeks, later going to the Oregon coast salmon was abundant, as was deer meat, although many flat tires had to be repaired on every trip. He told me a little bar by my present home was the first stop on the way to the coast, it being a long way out of town, it now part of Portland city limits. The Tillicum.

Later as a young man, he made ends meet by having three jobs at once. Professional wrestler, cello player, and marble mason for his dad. When he asked his dad why he always had to do bathroom work on commercial jobs, his father told him that’s where people sit and have time to look closely at the work, and it has to be good.

As a college student working for Pete I asked him why he always knew more about the subject matter than me, he told me it was due to the fact that Italian was is first language, which gave him insight into technical terms and “I never got along with my wife so I spent a lot of time reading at my beach shack by myself.''

Italian marble masons in those days didn’t bother much with what we call customer relations, so although he was a gentleman, he always put on a gruff face, to keep homeowners away and not peer over our shoulders as we did their marble work. A policy not practiced in todays' world, but still perfectly logical to me. Pete would tell you when he was finished with the job and didn’t invite silly questions by the customer. He was old school.

Pete had many expressions that solved most problems, if the customer questioned his work. His favorite being, “Can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. As a helper who mixed the cement I hated to hear ''Never got enough until you got too much.''

But Pete was at his best ad libbing uncomfortable situations. Once after working several weeks on a complex slate floor in a bank remodel all the ladies seemed to enjoy talking to Pete even though they seemed to get under his skin as they walked in and out every day. The bank president thought Pete layed the door entry at too steep an angle to the sidewalk, actully I did too but one never second guessed Pete. While we were redoing this entry ramp the women giggled and said you just got through doing that, Pete snarled back, “Women aren't the only ones who can change their mind.”

However I will never forget Pete's retort to a woman in Eastern Oregon who walked over the floor we worked on the previous day with a broom handle tapping the floor thinking she was checking for a good job. “WE JUST LAY THEM, MA'AM, WE DONT TUNE THEM.”

When Pete's younger brother Fred and I get together – Fred no slouch himself – we never talk about Pete, its just to hard for both of us.  

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Trouble in Budapest

I only got to Budapest, birthplace of my grandmother, Dad's mom, because of the kindness of a school teacher who was traveling from Vienna on the same train as I. When I told her I was going to Budapest, she rescued me by telling me I was on the wrong train, and going in the wrong direction.

She took me off the train and accompanied me to a bus, which took us to the correct train, most of the time reading a book.

I believe I was so traumatized by the situation that I do not remember our conversation that September day in the year 2000.

Upon arriving in Budapest she took me to a cab station at the central Budapest train terminal, where I could get a ride to my downtown hotel.

She then held my hands,
looked me in the eyes
and said

“IN THE CURRENT SITUTATION, BUDAPEST CAN BE A VERY DANGEROUS PLACE. DON'T SHOW YOUR MONEY AND BE CAREFUL.”

She then left to continue her trip.

When I got to the old hotel in downtown Pest, near the Danube, the clerk informed me that due to International Cart Races going on that week, my room was given to someone else. However, they had made arrangements for me to stay the first day, across the river in Buda.

It was a modern structure with a tree-filled park across the street, where I enjoyed a fine evening of European big band pop music in a outdoor amphitheater. It was wonderful evening.

On the fourth day of visiting Pest, I went to a Sunday evening church service to look at the cathedral, then slowly walked down one of the large avenues near the Danube. There were not many people around Sunday at twilight.

Suddenly, ten feet in front of me two very tall young women probably in their twenties appeared. One had lost her shoe, and they were laughing about it. In very good English they greeted me and we talked a bit. Looking at these Budapest girls I wondered how any man would leave there. They then suggested to me it was time for dinner and asked if I would like to join them. I DID.

The restaurant I remember was on a side street 90 degrees from the Danube, with a glass elevator going up to its entrance.

Not many customers – the cart races were over. We had dinner and some special drinks the girls introduced me to. After dinner and some dancing, one of the girls left to get her car, and the other asked me to meet her the following morning at a subway entrance at nine a.m. for some sightseeing.

When the waiter brought me the check, I couldn’t tell for sure the amount due to money exchange rates, but it looked like six hundred and twenty dollars American. I said no way and told him I only had one hundred and fifty dollars with me.

I soon had a man on each arm taking me down the glass elevator to the street, and dragged me to a ATM machine were they told me to take out six hundred and twenty dollars. It was a lot of bills I remember.

They left.

I walked back to my hotel quickly, to plead my case . The desk attendants were very calm and polite as they explained to me, there is nothing that can be done, DUE TO THE CURRENT SITUTATION.

I thought about that

THE AUSTRIAN HAPSBERGS

THE PRUSSIAN KAISERS

THE GERMAN NAZIS

THE COMMUNIST RUSSIANS

AND NOW THE CURRENT SITUTATION

It makes sense.

Footnote: I don’t know who was in power there, but it made me glad to live in a place where at least you can ask for help from the police. It also makes me think about the young women who went so far out of her way to help me and I lost her mail address which she gave me, and I NEVER HAD A CHANCE TO THANK HER.