For the photos I took, I transferred them to http://gigiregazzoni.xoom.it/ because the other site just vanished from one day to the next . . .
anyway those two assholes Pilu and Crasta couldn’t even see their way to downloading theirs onto a CD and mailing them to me . . . because the idea of sending them over the web . . . well, that’s completely out of the question . . .
a big hello to everyone, G.
P.S. Has anyone else been contacted? I’d also like to know if—once we’ve established the day—I can also invite the headmaster, I have his e-mail address . . . I don’t think his presence would bother anyone, would it?
March 11, 2013
Ciao everyone,
following on what I wrote before, I suggest a change of date to May 16 . . . (among other things, d’Avenia wasn’t available for the date we had chosen previously).
Now there’s more time available . . . Let me sincerely ask those I didn’t get a chance to see on October 30 to make sure they take part in this second get-together (with or without family accompanying)
April 13, 2013
Ciao everyone, I’d like to get some confirmations of who will be there at Barnetta’s house on Sunday, May 16, I assume after 10 in the morning . . . (and the exact address, too, Gedeone), and especially from:
Albinati, Edoardo
Casorati, Francesco
Giuramento, Alessio
Iannello, Riccardo
Lodoli, Marco
Rummo, Gioacchino
Sdobba, Enrico
And all the others who weren’t able to attend last time . . . Seeing that we’ll have to put in an order with a cathering [sic] service. Unless everyone decides to just each bring a sandwich for themselves :-)
We’d need to know the total number of people who will be attending, seeing that this time it’s open to the families, as well . . . After all, there’s no point in just wasting money and food for no good reason . . .
And also whether you’ve managed to get in touch with anyone else . . . I may be able to get in touch with Pierfrancesco Blasi and D’Aquino, but I couldn’t track down Marco Morricone . . .
A hug to you all
Regazzoni’s e-mail dated April 20 has a faint whiff of desperation about it.
I thought I had already agreed to the change in dates from Saturday the 15th instead of Sunday the 16th . . . in the name of one and all . . . but as it turns out, there weren’t many replies and most of them were to say they wouldn’t be able to make it . . . anyone who hasn’t written in yet, could you let me hear from you?
I also wanted to know if anyone had managed to track down any other alumni, maybe even not just from the last year??? talk soon, Gigi
At this point in the long-drawn-out negotiation Sandro Eleuteri pipes up.
Dear friends,
a couple of details:
1) ORGANIZATION: I have an idea that’s a little more demanding but also a little more personal. I’d like to suggest a “porta-party”; that means everyone would bring a hot dish or something ready to eat, breaking the attendees down into four groups:
—PRIMI PIATTI (baked pasta, insalata di riso, chicken salad, etc., etc.)
—MAIN COURSES/SIDE DISHES (big salads, vegetable casseroles, frittata, etc., etc.)
—DESSERT/ICE CREAM
—WINE
All of these are things you’d bring cooked or ready to eat. The master of the house won’t cook a thing; he’ll just make his home available, along with paper plates/napkins/disposable cups.
From my own experience . . . porta-parties are a lot of fun, you laugh, you eat, and you drink.
2) DATE: I don’t know if anyone noticed, but Sunday the 16th at 3 p.m. is the last day of the championship. I don’t know how many of you are interested but it really would be a crime to miss out on it, seeing how things are turning out. Couldn’t we do Saturday the 15th??? And anyway, who’s even coming?? I haven’t seen this groundswell of enthusiasm . . .
Ciao, ciao, Sandro
At this point Gedeone Barnetta weighs in.
Dear friends,
I have a slightly different suggestion, one that I think is more in line with the needs and abilities of all of us, for this coming May 15.
Not far from my house there’s a good restaurant, it’s called Il Gnocco Traditore, and they do some delicious dishes (meat—it’s famous for its steaks, which it serves on a soapstone grill—and fish) and it’s reasonably priced (30–35 euros, max).
Here’s what we could do: meet at one o’clock at the restaurant, then we can go to my place, where, for anyone who wants to hang out into the evening, we can whip up a big bowl of spaghetti (with a side dish!).
That way we can avoid the pitfalls of catering (Gigi, what were you thinking . . . sandwiches!!!) and the traffic on Via Cristoforo Colombo. What’s more, we can accommodate people who want to sleep in a little (not me, I sleep 4–5 hours a night, tops).
What do you say? If you’re all good with it, all I need is to know about a week in advance the approximate number of people attending so I can make a reservation for a private room at the restaurant. If you want, we can arrange for a prix fixe meal, but I don’t see the need. The one sure thing is that you eat well at Il Gnocco Traditore.
Last of all, an important notice for the gentlemen who took and then published a photo in which one of you is making the sign of the horns behind my head: as promised, I printed mug shots of both of you and put them in the doghouse of my dog Frisk, so that, come May, he’ll be able to identify you both and take appropriate action.
Let me know, and a big hug to everyone,
Gedeone
The next e-mail from Regazzoni has a worried, disappointed tone.
May 9, 2013
Ciao guys, let’s summarize and flesh out all the various points:
we moved the date to this coming Saturday (May 15) at Gedeone Barnetta’s house, and we’re waiting for him to let us know the address and time to show up there . . .
Here’s who’s coming . . . (followed by a list of names, which has now shrunk to nine, including Regazzoni)
Sanson and Dormouse were on for the 16th, I hope they still are for the 15th
d’Avenia couldn’t come on the 16th but I hope he does come, now that we moved it to the 15th . . .
Ferrazza, Zipoli, and Rummo haven’t responded but I hope they can make it . . .
We haven’t heard a word from Albinati, Arbus, Lodoli, Sdobba, and Zarattini . . . but I hope we see at least a couple of them . . .
Let me remind everyone that the family members are invited, too (wives and children; but leave your other relatives at home :-))
The Headmaster sends his regards and thanks one and all but he won’t be able to make it; too many aches and pains!!
For the menu, it’s a mess, so let me try and organize things a little myself:
Barnetta: beverages
Crasta, Busoni, Regazzoni: primi piatti
Scarnicchi, d’Avenia, Zarattini, Zipoli: main courses
Lorco, Modiano, De Matteis: side dishes
Ferrazza, Puca, Iannello: desserts
if anyone wants to switch up, do as you please . . .
others I haven’t mentioned here because I’m not really expecting to see them, I’d be only too happy if they proved me wrong, bringing whatever food is easiest for them to procure . . .
as for the quantities, I wouldn’t bring any more than four reasonable portions, otherwise we’ll have tons of food . . . anyway, anyone who has any better ideas, just pipe up . . . see you Saturday!!!
May 11
Dear friends, I’m canceling the get-together on Saturday the 15th on account of a greater number of absences than presences. The following, with a 100% or 99% likelihood, won’t be coming: Busoni, Crasta, d’Avenia, Izzo, Lodoli, Scarnicchi.
No replies from: Albinati, Arbus, Ferrazza (after we moved the date from the 16th to the 15th) and Rummo . . .
. . . in any case I’m going to Casal Palocco to have l
unch with Barnetta, at the trattoria Il Gnocco Traditore, and anyone else who wants to come along would be mighty welcome.
Later on, I’ll send you the exact address for Il Gnocco (or else you can find it yourselves online) and the time I’m meeting Gedeone, unless his Internet connection starts working again and he can do it himself . . .
in future, considering the objective challenges and, in some cases, the general unwillingness to use e-mail . . . I suggest we establish a date to observe on an annual basis so as to make it possible for those who are willing and able to spare the time to plan for it
I would suggest the first Saturday in October, when the weather and daylight savings time ought to make it easy to get together in the afternoon . . . we’ll work things out better in future . . . in particular from those who missed both the last get-together and the one we just canceled, I’d welcome any suggestions you might have—if, that is, you’re interested in taking part!
For now, all of you take care, Gigi
It was easy to guess what happened next: the insistence of Ragazzoni’s messages did nothing to achieve the desired effect, in fact, the defections followed thick and fast. His e-mail dated September 14, 2013, under the jesting manner concealed a truly pained note. Reading it, I thought of Chiodi and Jervi, who were no longer among the living.
Ciao guys, this is to remind you that we had agreed to meet up on the first Saturday in October . . . I’d say at 9 p.m. out front of SLM!!!
(Again Regazzoni writes the name of our school as an acronym, the way I have throughout this book . . .)
Those who failed to make the last get-together can jot it down in their datebooks, or put a reminder in their cell phones . . . or tie their dicks in a knot . . .
Find a way to get free of your obligations for 3 hours . . . On that Saturday . . . And then if you really don’t want to . . . just tell me to go fuck myself!
A big hug, Gigi Regazzoni
Here Regazzoni signed the e-mail with his first and last names. A significant slip. With the infelicitous wisecrack “tie their dicks in a knot,” he has also, without even noticing it, signed his letter of surrender. He never was a funny guy, my classmate. To watch him try to be funny, now, at age fifty-seven, online, only makes it clear how heartbroken he really is. Just three days later, on September 17, he finds himself forced to write to us all again.
SO TO SUMMARIZE
Second consecutive get-together canceled
I’m stepping aside as organizer
Anyone who feels like it can get busy and come up with some new dates
A hug to you all
Regazzoni
That was the last time we heard from him.
AN UNSETTLING DETAIL: in importing this paperless, one-sided correspondence, I’ve been forced to reduce it all to the same color, point size, and font; but Regazzoni’s original e-mails were written in various colors, and with an alternation of different fonts. I wouldn’t know how to explain this eccentric whim. In fact, he used:
Arial Narrow green italics and blue roman
Times New Roman bold and dark blue, green, light blue italics
Consolas 10.5 point
Verdana 13.5 lime green and dark blue
The e-mail dated March 2, 2013, is in a muted green Arial 12 bold italic; on March 11 (perhaps because of his discouragement) he goes back to a black Consolas, all lowercase; from April 13 on, he uses a black Consolas, with the exception of May 9 (Arial 12 dark blue) and May 11 (dark blue and red lowercase, green uppercase).
14
TO THINK BACK TO MY OLD CLASSMATES. To think back to that time. I’m sorry I had to do it. Why did Regazzoni get so stubborn about it? The words bob back to the surface . . . the phrases, the manners of speech, the expressions, which we still remember even if we use them little if at all. They were the legacy of our parents.
IF SOMEONE WAS GOOD at some particular subject, we’d say he had a bernoccolo, the bump on the head used by phrenologists. For instance, “il bernoccolo della matematica,” literally, “a bump on the head for math”; if they had a passion, or a predilection, practically a fixation, with a certain thing, especially something trivial or futile, we would say “ne aveva il pallino” (they had a “little ball,” which might describe a polka dot or a cue ball or a Ping-Pong ball or even a BB). Il pallino dei go-kart or delle piste per i modellini. A fixation with go-karts or, say, slot-car tracks.
A WORD THAT WAS USED a great deal back then and almost never nowadays: “fesso,” meaning, literally, cracked, to call someone a “fool.”
IF SOMEONE WAS A BIG COMPLAINER, people would say, “non fare il pianto greco,” something approximating “don’t be a Greek mourner.”
A VAST NUMBER OF NEGATIVE EPITHETS: screanzato, villanzone, buzzurro, filibustiere, lestofante, manigoldo, lazzarone, mascalzone, roughly equivalent to scoundrel, oaf, highwayman, or churl.
. . . WHEN PEOPLE SAID of a homosexual that he was “un invertito,” a cross between “perverted” and “twisted,” or else that he was “dell’altra sponda,” literally, “on the far side.”
. . . WHEN YOU WANTED to describe someone who was in trouble or in bad shape, who might, say, have been in a crash or beaten black-and-blue, we’d use the mysterious expression “È proprio combinato per le feste” or “conciato per le feste” (in shape for the holidays, or tanned for the holidays, or perhaps parties—but what parties or holidays could the phrase have been referring to?)
. . . Back then words that are nowadays lighthearted and meaningless—words like, say, “lavativo” (lazybones) or “spendaccione” (spendthrift)—were enough to brand an individual negatively, the equivalent of a scarlet letter. Moral transvaluation, after almost entirely accomplishing its circuit, makes those words practically incomprehensible today, and would keep us from picking up on the quavering note of contempt in the voice of those who uttered them (normally, the head of the family).
. . . words like “fandonie,” or “frottole,” or “frescacce,” all of them meaning, roughly, balderdash, and now swept aside by the more vulgar and generic “cazzate,” or “bullshit.”
It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone use a word that was uttered quite frequently by my parents: “mentecatto,” or mental defective, as in someone is nothing more than an unfortunate mental defective: “è un povero mentecatto.”
DITTIES AND NONSENSE RHYMES
(to the tune of “Kozachok”)
Oh, Natasha
How did you like the kasha?
I loved it, Pavel, I pooped it on the gravel!
You’ve really made a mess of the steppe, etc.
(to the tune of “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo,” also known as “The Magic Song,” from the film Cinderella)
Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo
What the fuck is the matter with you, etc.
(or else, to the same tune, the blasphemous ditty on the Crucifixion, which I previously included in the chapter on our religion teacher, do you all remember him, Mr. Golgotha?)
Take a little nail . . .
And a little hammer . . .
Come and join us, drive a nail or two . . .
Come nail up Baby Jesus
Make sure he never comes down again!
(to the tune of Leichte Kavallerie, in pidgin Spanish)
Le currieron detras
Le currieron detras
Le pusieron un palo en el culo . . .
Ai que dolor! Pobre senor!
No se lo pudiera sacar!
These were mixed up with the nursery rhymes useful for learning, for example, the names of the Alps from Tuscany to Friuli: Ma Con Gran Pena Le Reti Cala Giù, etc. A mnemonic that incorporated the names of the various Alps, from Maritime to Julian: Maritime, Cottian, Graian, Pennine, Lepontine, Rhaetian Noric, Carnic, and Julian Alps.
CARDUCCI: “Sei nella terra fredda . . . Sei nella terra negra . . .” The riposte, playing on the fact that “you are” (sei) and the number six (sei) are the same word, was: Hey, what, did this guy have twelve chi
ldren die on him?!
LAST OF ALL, the learned quotation (from the Aeneid, which we read in late middle school), previously referenced:
This is Lavinia
your future bride
feel her down under,
slip your finger inside!
THE MOST FAMOUS and inappropriate contrary-to-fact sentence was this: “If my grandfather had had five balls, he’d have been a pinball machine.” This is to say that there’s no point in formulating hypotheses other than the actual state of affairs, you can’t build history with ifs and buts.
Hasta la vista!
I pissed on the pasta!
AND THEN there was an endless supply of silly and obscene ditties and rhymes, nonsense, and schoolboy puns. Arbus was greatly amused by them. I would never have believed that he enjoyed this foolishness, in fact, I thought he held them in contempt (but how wrong we are in our judgments and, to an even greater extent, how wrong we are in our beliefs about how others judge us! It’s an incredible chain of misunderstanding: the mistakes we make in our beliefs about ourselves, the mistakes others make in their beliefs about us, the mistakes we make in our beliefs about others, the mistakes we make in our beliefs about what others believe about us, the mistakes others make in their beliefs about what we think of them.)
Cos’è una banana?
Una ba-donna ba-piccola ba-piccola.
E una tartaruga?
Una tarta-piega della tarta-pelle.
Un cavillo?
Un animile che galippa galippa.
+ me lo −, + vengo −: x non venir + −, non me lo − +
This array of miniaturistic gems of absurdity, by definition untranslatable, as they’re based entirely on word structures in Italian, partake of the protocols of ciphers. “Nana” means female dwarf, a banana then is a bavery ba-small ba-woman. And so forth, from the punning use of “cavil” (cavillo) and “horse” (cavallo) in the same way, and finally the obscene references to masturbation using plus and minus signs.
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