Mr. Rapunzzi

Mr. Rapunzzi

He was a tough guy from way back,
worked as a stevedore at the Seattle dockyards,
but he was also a nice man,
the father of a friend of mine, Dick.
They lived next door, the Rapunzzis.
Italian.
Bob was the father's name.
He was a macho guy,
his hobby was fixing radios,
which he was good at.
His favorite saying was,
“I wouldn't pick my nose in Radio Shack.”
He said they sold junk.

The Rapunzzis lived for most of the year
in Washington state,
but every summer they returned to their true love: Alaska,
Skagway in particular.
And when they would come back in the fall,
my friend Dick always had colorful
stories about his dad.
Like the time he and his sister, Deedee,
were picnicking up at their cabin in the woods.
Their mother, Ivy, spotted a mother wolverine
and her cubs walking near where the children were playing.
She told her husband Bob.
He came the rescue,
grabbed his rifle in case,
and headed in the direction of the kids playing.
As he stepped up on a mossy log,
he slipped.
Completely knocked the wind out of himself.
He lay there helpless and impotent,
while the wolverine came closer to his children.
There was nothing he could do,
he couldn't even breathe.
Finally he caught his breath and
got up. Fortunately the wolverine and her cubs
had left the area and the kids were unharmed.

There was another time, when they were hiking,
they came to a river.
There was a rope used to swing across.
Bob did it first to show them how.
Then Dick went.
Then his mom, Ivy.
But Deedee was afraid to go.
So Bob swung back over to her.
He tried to giver her confidence,
but she just wouldn't budge.
So Bob said, “Here let me show you again.”
He grabbed the rope and swung, but perhaps
because he was trying to make it seem so
easy and simple, he didn't run as hard
before the swing.
His momentum wasn't enough to get him across.
He almost made it to the other side, but just fell short by a foot.
So he started to swing back.
The problem then was, he didn't have enough momentum
to get back where he started.
So he missed that river bank too.
Next swing was a little shorter,
and he was even farther from the second bank.
All he could do at that point was hang on,
until the momentum stopped and he hung there
above the river.
Finally he said, “Ah shit!”
and let go. Down he went into the river,
waist deep.
Of course his family laughed at him.
Poor Mr. Rapunzzi.

They were always going on trips in their car,
sometimes to California.
They liked to take a break from Seattle
in the winter, get some sunshine.
So, one time they were heading south over Grants Pass, Oregon,
dead of winter.
They didn't have snow tires on,
and they didn't even bring winter coats,
they were anticipating the warm
California sunshine.
Just before they got to the top of the pass,
it started snowing heavy,
the roads were covered and cars were sliding around.
But Bob was still doing okay.
He was a skillful driver and
he was managing even in the heavy snow.
They came to a checkpoint almost at the top.
There was a Highway Patrol officer walking down the line of
cars looking at the tires.
When he got to Mr. Rapunzzi's car he looked right at him
and said “Chain 'er up!”
Bob cursed under his breath.
Damn he thought, 'We're almost at the top!'

So he and his son Dick had to get out of the car,
no winter coats,
freezing their asses off,
and put the chains on the tires.
Dick was in just a T-shirt.
Mr. Rapunzzi was in an unlined summer jacket.
Their hands were cold and turning white.
They struggled to get the chains in place on the rear tires.

All of a sudden a man in another car drove by real close and fast through a large puddle of slush.
The slush splashed all over Bob and his son.
This made him furious,
“That son of a bitch! Did you see that?!”
“No consideration. No siree!”
Finally they got the tires taken care of.
Both of them, cold and soaked in ice and snow,
got back in the car.
They drove on.
Mr. Rapunzzi kept complaining about the
irresponsible jerk who'd soaked them.

Near the top of the pass, they rounded a bend,
and to their surprise,
they saw the same man who'd splashed them.
Mr. Rapunzzi exclaimed, “There he is!”
The man had also been stopped by the State Troopers
and told to “Chain 'er up!”
Crouching by the rear roadside wheel,
he too was struggling in the freezing cold to put those chains on.
Rapunzzi hit the gas and sped by the man,
cutting through a large puddle of slush,
which sent up a wall of freezing water, ice, and snow,
completely covering him.
Mr. Rapunzzi laughed as he drove away.
He kept looking back in the rear-view mirror the whole time,
wearing the biggest smile of satisfaction.