Journal of an Urbane Gorilla

Ciao tutti! Tutto a 99 cent!

Every time that Grams gets too snooty about ‘her’ Firenze, Big guy and I feel it our obligation to puncture her smug little balloon. That’s how we got to reminiscing this morning about the day we found a 99¢ store in Firenze.

Now, we live just west of Santa Tourista and there is not one 99¢ store near us. In ‘olde towne’ there’s something that approaches a 99¢ store, but as with everything else here; it’s more like a $2 store. When we saw this particular 99¢ store in Firenze we had to check it out.

Unfortunately, I have to report that it was rather ordinary inside. But it was fun. Even in Firenze, where a pair of shoes can cost 1,000 €; there are cheesy little places if you just look long enough.

We came out without any purchases (a new first for Grams) and continued to wander through the streets. Sometimes, in Italy, we just sit in a piazza and watch the passing scene. There is always something to look at in Firenze.

The other day Nancy, a friend of Grams, called and they got to talking about places they like to go to at least once a year. Nancy said that Paris was her favourite place and she said that Firenze must be Grams’ favourite place. “But I love Paris, too!” Grams squealed. I’ve created a monster!

You see before Grams met me, she claimed to have, “never been any place.” While this was not literally true, she’s now been all over the place. She also loves Wales and Ireland and Scotland. She’s crazy about Spain (read: Barcelona) and there’s a special place in her heart for Italy.

Our friend Emlyn called yesterday from Caernarfon in Wales. Something was mentioned about a train trip through Canada and down the west coast of the U.S. next spring. Funny, I didn’t think that we were going anywhere next year. Well, we’ll see.

A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

Vinny the Pooh-bah

Yesterday was the first time in a couple of weeks that the Grams really had a good laugh. She’s been down in the dumps because the day before our joint birthday her dear friend Vincent died. She has often said that she'd have nothing without Vinny. The way she figures it she wouldn't even have Big Guy.

This drawing of Vinny was drawn by a late mutual friend of theirs. He had done a series of drawings of the people at the studio where Grams worked in the mid-70s. When she came across the drawings a few months ago, Grams was a bit melancholy. “Most of these people have died, Gweeds,” she said. Then, she took the drawing of Vinny and had a cup made for him with the drawing on it. He loved that cup.

We had seen Vinny just a few days before he had a massive stroke. I can’t think of a better memory to have than that day. We had stopped by Grams’ Mama’s house as we headed out to Palm Desert. As it happens, we were on our way to a memorial for Big Guy’s brother. The ‘Old Lady,’ as I refer to Grams’ Mama, made us a fabulous lunch and was actually nice to me (she didn’t call me ‘fuzzy miscreant” once).

Vinny arrived right on time and was ready to eat. He was in a jolly mood. He even complemented the Grams on her haircut. We had a wonderful salad with tall cool drinks. Dessert was a delicious flan. Oh yum! She is the best cook, even better than Grams (promise not to tell).

Vinny was in rare form that day and we laughed our way through our meal. Kisses and hugs all around when we left. As we drove toward the desert, Grams was in an expansive mood. She started talking about Vinny’s ancestor; Savonarola di Girolamo. She hadn’t known about Vinny’s connection to Savonarola until she and Vinny started a genealogical search for his relatives from Pianella, Italy. Grams came across Emilia di Girolamo and her family. Emilia told Grams about the Savonarola connection. Emilia is a writer, her father is a painter, her mother is a sculptor, and Emilia's husband is a composer. Grams got one of Emilia's books for Vinny. He read it cover to cover and was quite proud of his connection; as were they of him.

Since Grams had a done a lot of reading about the Italian renaissance, she knew who Savonarola was. The first time we went to Florence we were standing in the Piazza della Signoria and Grams said, “this reminds me of the painting of the burning of Savonarola. It looks like the very spot!” It was then that we looked down and saw a brass plaque that said (in Italian), “Yep, this is where we burned him all right!” Or something like that.

When Grams found out that Vinny was related to said Savonarola, she immediately told him the story about the plaque in the piazza. Of course, Vinny had great stories too. You don’t get to be 92 years old without having some great stories. Grams knew most of them and she always listened as if she were hearing them for the first time.

Now, she will have to keep the memory of them for him. When Vinny was in the hospital, Grams had a blow-up of his drawing made and her Mama put it up on the wall in Vinny’s room. It made him smile. By the way, most folks called him, “Mr. Dee.” Grams called him Vinny the Pooh. Once folks found that out, other people started calling him Vinny too. That also made him smile.

Good bye, Vinny. You were loved and you are missed.

A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

"Call me Ishmael"

I know that she-who-must-be-laughed-at will be furious with me, but I had to take this photo. I also know that you’ll understand why. This morning the maniac we refer to as Grams decided that I had to come with her on her bike ride. I was all set to go for a walk with Big Guy and Henri, but no, she wanted me to ride in her basket. ‘Mr. Toad’s wild ride’ does not begin to describe it. Heart-stopping, terrifying, life-shortening: those would come closer. The woman is CRAZY!

She wanted to show me her new route to work, or so she said. Every time I covered my eyes and screamed, she laughed. We flew past fields and new construction, roared around all the new science buildings, screeched around roundabouts. “Look, Gweeds, see how the road banks at the turns?! It’s just like the Tour de France!” The ‘Tour de Terror’ is more like it. My heart was racing by the time we got to the library where she works. I wanted to walk home, but she kept pedalling. “Let’s see if we can find another way home, shall we?” “Let’s call a taxi!” I screamed.

She actually did find a new way home and we stopped by a playground and there were the statues of Huey, Dewey and Louie. Do you remember the gorilla sculptures we’d found last summer? You know the ones that looked like my cousins, the triplets? Well, it turns out that they’re in a playground on campus. That’s why Grams insisted on me coming with her. She wanted to show them to me. I actually forgot my total fear for a minute. Then, we took off again. I was never as glad as when we saw Big Guy and Henri walking ahead of us in the driveway. She slowed down and I jumped out.

The thrills weren’t over yet though. Grams and Henri got on their wetsuits and grabbed their boogie boards and we headed down to the beach. Since I don’t do water and Big Guy doesn’t do sun, we sat and watched. I heard a lot of “Woohoo!” and “OHMYGAWD!” and “Auuuuuuugh!” coming from the Grams and Henri. There was also a lot of laughter. Big Guy shook his head a lot. Every time she’d manage to get herself upright again, Grams would flash us the thumbs up sign. We just shook our heads.

Finally she caught a really nice big wave that brought her to our feet. “Call me Ishmael,” she said. Somehow, that was not the character from Moby-Dick she brought to mind. See for yourself. “I wouldn’t mind a Starbucks double latte, right now,” I yelled to her. “Ha-ha, I get it.” she muttered as she dragged her sandy sodden body up and headed back out.

I suspect that this is going to be a Saturday ritual for the rest of the summer. That is unless we can hide the wetsuit and the boogie board. I’m working on it.

A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

I don’t wanna play in your yard*

Where has the Gweeds been? Well, I’ve been pressed into nursing duty; taking care of the Grams. Yes, she fell off her bike again. This time she rode right into a utility pole. She fell kerplunk into the street. She stopped traffic. I flew into the air, since I was riding in the basket on her little red bike. Fortunately, I landed in a lady’s arms. I smiled up at her, the lady seemed to be in a state of shock. “Should I call 911?” she asked. We both looked down at Grams.

Grams smiled a little smile and said, “No, I think that the only thing that’s hurt is my pride.” Unfortunately, she was wrong. Her glasses were broken and she was bruised on her right side from tip to toe. Also, the bike basket (my seat) was all bent up and the back fender looked all cockeyed.

Big Guy came back and peeled her off of the pavement. I hopped out of the lady’s arms and started to re-form the basket. Grams looked all shook up, but she was game, she got back on the bike, I hopped back in the basket and we rode (very slowly) home.

Once she was home, Grams laid down for a while. She tried going to work the next day, but she had a terrible headache. Finally, she decided to take the next few days off. I was running up and down the stairs bringing her Sudoku puzzles, yoghurt, and water. She kept complaining of a headache, but when she finally got her specs back at the end of the week, she realized that it was her spare pair that was giving her the headaches. We were afraid that she had a concussion. She said that she’s too hard headed for that.

In the midst of all this was our birthday. Grams and I share a birthday. She did get me a ‘hamburger’ cake.
I don’t know how she pulled that off. She never ceases to amaze me. People seem to think that since we share a birthday that I’m as old as Grams. But no mes amis, no one is as old as Grams. Anyway, we sang a chorus of “All Hail to Thee, Oh Land of Kong” and then “Happy Birthday.” Finally, Grams quoted Mickey Mantle, “If I had known I was going to live so long I’d have taken better care of myself.” A good time was had by all.

Now, why have I quoted that song? Well, that’s what Grams and I were singing when she crashed into the utility pole.

A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

* I don't want to play in your yard,
I don't like you anymore,
You'll be sorry when you see me,
Sliding down our cellar door,
You can't holler down our rain barrel,
You can't climb our apple tree,
I don't want to play in your yard,
If you won't be good to me.