O Sole Mio

My dad was a simple man. He took pleasure in the small things that life had to offer – a good movie, a nice garden, an excellent turn of phrase and a flavorful yet simple meal.My dad was not the type of person who said “I Love You” but I knew he meant it in other ways. I could see the love he had for us indirectly. One year for Valentine’s Day, he purchased a chocolate filled heart for my mom and then spent some time picking out the caramel filled ones for me. Another year he bought my mom a lottery ticket. It wasn’t extravagant but it was thoughtful and touching. In the way that he would call my sister ‘my little duck’ or in the way he would call me the ‘tempest’ or ‘earthquake’. In the way he told my dogs that he didn’t know what do with them. Some times the best indication that he liked you was that he would raise his arm in a fist and wave it around as if he were going to hurt you. The intention of the gesture was always the opposite of its meaning.

My dad was a generous man. He would use his handy man skills to help both my sister’s and my high school – making repairs and fixing their windows. In my first year of high school, my school had to relocate out of the neighborhood. My dad, my sister and I spent many warm summer days down in the East Village painting the new place in order for it to be ready for the first day of school in September. When he had time he would teach us how to do the things that he knew best. He taught me how to change a lose washer in a bathroom sink once and how to fix a loose doorknob amongst many other things.

I appreciated the indirect way he taught me to appreciate vegetables and flowers that you planted with your own hand. In the last few years we have enjoyed zucchini, tomatoes, eggplant and herbs that I grew in the garden. He was always excited to see how the garden was growing being the first one out to see what had developed in the days in between. He would give me pointers on how to make them grow faster or how to save veggies that were starting to wilt.

And speaking of tomatoes, the weeks every summer where the collecting and jarring of tomatoes would consume his brain; it was all he could think about. I remember weeks in late summer as a kid when my dad, my mom, my aunts and sometimes my uncles would go and collect tomatoes. There was a strategy to collecting the red fruit that a novice would never comprehend. Not to mention the appeal of a simple tomato salad with some olive oil, salt and oregano or a plate of spaghetti with fresh tomato sauce.

When speaking of strategy, there was no better way to see the machinations of my dad’s brain than when we was watching the game show "Jeopardy" every night. He would play the "Daily Doubles" and "Final Jeopardy" as if he were right on the sound stage in Burbank. He would often tell the players how to play the game from the dinner table or from the sofa. He would tell them that they were making silly mistakes even when he didn’t always know the answers himself.

My dad loved John Wayne. He could sit in front of the television and watch his movies for hours. He enjoyed his Westerns, his Bob Hope movies and his ‘I Love Lucy”. He delighted in his comedies especially “The Three Stooges”, “Abbott and Costello” and Roberto Benigni movies. He loved them so much that we weren’t always sure if he was taking pleasure in them because he would laugh so hard he would become almost inaudible.

My dad was very opinionated. Even so he would listen to your point of view, give it some consideration and then tell you that you didn’t know anything. Annoying as this was at times, I appreciated that he always stayed true to what he believed. Even if it was being passionate about the calls referees made during soccer games, or the price of things in the supermarket or the right way to drive, fix a broken pipe or do just about anything.

One of the things I loved best about my dad was the relationship he had with my husband and with my dogs. He would often come over to visit but he was never looking for me. He was always looking for ‘le belle della casa’ (The beauties of the house) or ‘the big guy’. Often my dad and husband would walk side-by-side in the street and the sight of them would make me smile. My 5’0” tall dad beside my 6’2” tall husband. Once in the early days of meeting my husband he said to me, “My neck hurts from looking up at him”. I chuckled because I never thought their difference in size manifested itself in any way except for the visual one.

When my dog Foxy would sit in front of him and surrender her paw to him, he would tell her “If you give me your paw, what will I do with it?” or “If you give me your paw, how will you walk?” Occasionally we would let my other dog visit with him so that they would spend time sitting on the sofa together watching television -- him petting her consistently and kissing her during commercial breaks.

My dad liked to walk outside early in the morning to see what the day would bring. In those short moments he could seize up what the rest of the day would entail. If it was snow, he knew it was going to be a strenuous and tiring day. If the birds were chirping and the sky was clear, he knew it would be a beautiful day. He was a big believer in the ‘early bird catching the worm’ and he would make the most of those early hours when everyone else was fast asleep.

My dad also liked to sing. Occasionally he would belt out an Italian song for no reason except that it was in his head. He often liked to dance because it made him smile.

I am grateful that my parents taught me well and raised me in their own special way. I am going to miss my dad more than these words or any words can express. I know he’s in a better place and isn’t suffering. Maybe now he will finally get to meet “The Quiet Man” in person.

Tutoring Time

I have been tutoring an 8 year old girl via an innovative program that my company supports. Every week for the past couple of months, I spend 30 minutes on the phone with my tutee. I am supposed to help her with her reading and by the end of the school year, get her current reading level to a higher one.

It has been challenging in a number of ways. I don’t get to see her face at any point of the session (or in general). Everything is done by an interface that I control and that she sees on her screen. Being on the phone, I can’t always sense where her struggles are. When she’s quiet for a bit, I get it but it’s not an immediate facial expression read.

But aside from those bits it has been a lot of fun. It’s probably the best 30 minutes of every week. We usually read a story – meaning she reads and I correct her where necessary. Then we do some reading comprehension questions. And then, the part my tutee loves the best, the games. The system has incorporated games into it so that after each story you can match rhyming words together, you can do a hang man game, and play tic-tac-toe based on what you’ve read.

I do admit that it’s fun to play these games but my favorite part is going over words where she’s had difficulty. I also enjoy helping her get more vocabulary by giving her more words that rhyme with the ones in the story.

At first I couldn’t tell if I was helping her as all. She struggled so much with pronouncing words. But now that it’s been a couple of months, I see the improvements. She doesn’t have as much difficulty with the past tense, which was an enormous barrier when we first started. When I tell her I won’t talk to her until next week, she asks me to schedule another session on Thursday or Fridays. It’s cute…but I can’t monopolize her time. She does have other stuff she needs to learn.

It makes me miss all the time I spent in the classroom teaching in the past. I do enjoy spending time helping students learn. My husband always says he notices how patient I am with students and how I sparkle with emotions when I talk about this student and my past students. Maybe in the future I will make more time than a half hour to assist others, but for now, this weekly session is a bright spot to which I look forward every week.

What the Dickens!

Today is a big day for many present and former English majors. It’s Charles Dickens’ 200th birthday. What is the big deal, I’m sure you are asking?

Take it from someone who despised Dickens back in the day. I didn’t want anything to do with his novels in high school. Honestly I don’t think we read anything but “The Christmas Carol”. I just didn’t like his style – the way he told a story even though I honestly think I never read any of his stuff. Somehow in my mind, he was this boring author whose stories were predictable and boring.

Then I went to college and I read “Great Expectations”. I consumed this book…I couldn’t put it down. I was so intrigued by his turn of phrase and his characterization of Pip and Estella. I felt at times that I knew Pip – that he could be a friend. Many times I even laughed at his descriptions of other characters in the novel. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

In graduate school, I read “Oliver Twist” and again I was taken aback by his descriptions. I felt for Oliver and so enjoyed every scene in which the Artful Dodger appeared. It was really good reading (much like Les Miserables now, by the way). Sometimes predictable but nonetheless very satisfying nonetheless.

I have also read “The Pickwick Papers” which I admit to chuckling at a lot more than I expected. There are many of his novels that I still have to read. I think he’s so important because he’s influenced so much of what we love today. His novels were the written form of reality television…every week we are hooked in to see what Bob or Jim will do next. Sometimes it’s funny and sometimes it’s sad. In addition he’s the master of the cliffhanger. For the readers during his time, they had to wait for the next installment to know what happened. So he knew how to create suspense and tension so that readers would continue to read.

Granted there was no television at the time so people didn’t have too much else to do. But he also was one of the first writers to make money writing. To so many writers out there, we owe him a lot. If he hadn’t paved the way and shown that it was possible to make a buck pitching a story, most of us wouldn’t be here blogging or writing or a lot of things!

Thanks so much for your creativity, Mr. Dickens. I’m happy to know you (via your novels).

Monday, Monday

Today I just didn’t want to get out of bed. I don’t know if it had to do with the Super Bowl, which I really doubt. I didn’t want to get dressed to come into the office. Usually Mondays aren’t bad for me. They are actually my quiet day where I catch up on work or prepare work for the busy week ahead. Whatever it was that was happening I couldn’t get any motivation to move myself out that door.

Maybe it was because when I went to say hello to one of my dogs, she looked at me like I stole her favorite toy and turned the other way. Maybe it was the super sad eyes on my other dog’s face that made me not want to move. I just wanted to stay home.

Perhaps it was that I spent the last two and a half weeks at home recovering and I was getting used to being casually dressed (ahem pajamas) and feeling calm (thanks to the doggies). Perhaps it was the annoying claustrophobia I was feeling on the subway ride into work. Or maybe it was the bone chilling cold I was feeling even under my super warm ski jacket. It could have even been the slight smell of someone breathing over me while I was trying to read. Whatever it was, it wasn’t encouraging me to take those steps up the stairs to my office building.

Then as everyone started to walk in and they were talking loudly, it made me want to put my jacket back on and go back home. And when I had to hear the sarcastic voices on a conference call, I wanted to just crawl under my desk and suck my thumb. When the air conditioning had frozen my hot tea, I considered just getting up and leaving. As I started to drift off to sleep in the middle of reading some documents, it should have been a sign. Maybe I will just stay home tomorrow because I really miss my dogs! They are way more exciting that the office any day of the week; not just Mondays.

Dinner with George

Last night I was watching a recent episode of “Inside the Actor’s Studio” with George Clooney. I only saw half of it but I was watching it before I fell asleep. That’s really all I needed to trigger an interesting dream.

In the dream I was dressed up in a stunning purple evening gown. I was taken to a table and seated. A few moments later George was accompanied to the table. We kissed my hand and we both sat down. I don’t remember very much of the dream except that we got into a discussion about politics (no doubt triggered from a stream of questions that came up during ‘Inside the Actor’s Studio’). We smiled at each other and laughed. And my teeth were very white in my dream, I might add.

My dream evoked another time – something in the 40’s or 50’s. It was polite and classy. Not contemporary in any way. What bothered me upon waking from this genteel dream is that I think I am obsessed with this year’s Best Actor Oscar race. A couple of nights ago I had a dream where in part of it I was on a bus ride sitting next to Jean Dujardin and speaking French. There’s nothing wrong with these dreams. But I’m wondering who I might encounter in my upcoming nights’ slumber.

The Big Day

Today is Groundhog’s day. I absolutely love this day because it’s so silly. Listening to an animal for the weather forecast is probably not that crazy as I’m sure many of our ancestors used that method. However the royal treatment given to the two main groundhogs in the Northeast cracks me up every year.

The two offenders are Punxsutawney Phil and Staten Island Chuck. The people of Punxsutawney were dressed in top hats, bow ties and coattails awaiting his prognosis. The mayor (I believe) said he held a special stick that allowed him to understand Groundhogese so that he could understand what Phil’s prediction would be. This made me chuckle. Then the mayor encouraged the crowd to join him in waking Phil up. They called his name and then the mayor used the groundhogese stick to knock on Phil’s door. Poor Phil – what if he was sleeping when all the commotion was going on outside. I’m sure he was scared out of his sleep. Can he really do his job when he wasn’t even given a chance to have some coffee?

The handlers pulled Phil out of his little burrow and presented him to the community in front of him. There were cheers and screams. Meanwhile poor little Phil looked like he needed to make a visit to the bathroom. He looked uncomfortable and half-asleep. They proceeded to put him on a tree stump covered in a red carpet (he gets the star treatment alright). The mayor whispered in Phil’s ear (at least I think groundhog’s ears are on the side of their faces) and Phil looked like he was still in LaLaLand. Eventually Phil uttered that there would be 6 more weeks of winter (He didn’t tell the mayor this in his ear. He just pronounced it in front of all in Groundhogese and had the translation services done by the mayor).

Over at the Staten Island Zoo, the handlers knocked on Chuck’s door and opened it immediately. He rolled out of the door as if he was caught by surprise while going to get his newspaper. Mayor Bloomberg (with his massive gloves on to avoid being bitten again) held him for all to see. Chuck looked very perturbed. The mayor held Chuck up to his ear and waited while Chuck notified him that spring was coming and that the Giants would win the Super Bowl. Chuck mesmerizes me every year – he is now a bookie for sporting events! (I guess everyone and everything needs numerous skills in this day and age!) And I had no idea that he spoke in a Bostonian accent so that the Mayor would understand him. Mayor Bloomberg didn’t need the special Groundhogese stick that was needed in Pennsylvania to understand the creature’s weather forecast.

The mayor then handed Chuck back to the handlers and held up a banner saying ‘Spring is Coming’ as well as mentioning the furry foretelling. I have to say that of the two predictions I hope that Chuck is correct but it has been such a mild winter that I hope that Phil might be right. I am already experiencing allergies symptoms in February. I’d hate to be on medication from now until summer. It’s long enough when it’s from April to June!

Overall, it is a big day in the animal kingdom – humans and other species alike. I wonder if there are bears sitting in trees somewhere watching all this coverage and deciding on whether they should hibernate for longer or if they should get out and get moving. Beach season is soon approaching if the groundhogs say spring is coming. They only have so much time to lose weight and fit into those bikinis or Speedos. So many decisions rely on what these groundhogs tell us.