Gino comes on a California adventure (Part 1 of 3)


My old college buddy Gino from Philadelphia flew out to visit me and Susan for a few weeks. He just flew home. He has been coming to visit every couple of years since 1980. Recently, his visits have become more frequent. This is his third summer in a row.
He always claims he’s going to move here some day, but this time he sounded serious. He even put a date to it: November 2004, when his apartment lease runs out.
Gino is a happy sad Sicilian bachelor. Happy because it’s his nature, sad because he’s a bachelor who works all the time. Being Sicilian has kept him close to his large family, which is spread all across the greater Philadelphia area. “I have lots of friends,” he says, “but they’re all relatives.” I am one of his few adopted goombahs. My only link to Italy is through my stomach.
Gino comes out to visit Susan and me and always wants to do the same three things: 1) Have as much fun as is humanly possible; 2) Meet women and fall in love; and 3) Cook for us. We have fun and we eat well. We meet women, but the zinger has eluded him. This visit we either fixed him up with or helped him bump into, let’s see, six, no, seven women total.
Gino is a simple guy with a complex exterior and hard to get to know. When he meets women he likes to tease them and goad them, good-naturedly, hoping they will spar back. The ones who can hold their own and take him on become friends and get to know his generous and tender side. Those who can’t talk back, or prefer not to, move on in defense to their own next prospect.
For example, if a girl were to say simply, “I got a parking ticket last week,” Gino might reply, “Shame on you. You’re nothing but a common criminal. Does your mother know about this?”
If a girl were to say simply, “I won a dance contest when I was six,” Gino might reply, “No. I don’t believe it. You can’t dance. Prove it. Show me the ribbon, or dance for me now.”
I think he thinks he’s Vince Vaughn.
Anyhow, ladies over 30, he’s 48 and friendly, a finish carpenter with a big heart and big hands, so if you want to meet him on his next visit to Benicia, please sign up now. Susan and I are creating the 2004 list. If you think I’m kidding, here’s our email addresses – me@mrgibbs.com and susangibbs@mrgibbs.com If you think I’m kidding, I just posted some pictures of his visit on the Internet. You can check him out in advance at www.mrgibbs.com/gino. This is not a reality TV gimmick, folks. Susan and I want Gino to find some happiness.
On with the story: Gino brought a mutual friend with him this time, Woody, who I haven’t seen in 25 years. Woody is married, has two kids and a gut, and has never been to California. In one week, we gave him the grand, exclusive, inclusive, all-points-covered tour. We began with the Benicia boat races. Then we did a full walking tour of San Francisco from Market Street to the Wharf including Lombard, followed by a driving tour over the Golden Gate, down Polk, up Union, out to the Cliff House, and back through The Castro.
We drove to Berkeley down the Arlington, walked Telegraph, the pier, shopped at the Berkeley Bowl, drove over Grizzly Peak, and played shuffleboard at the Triple Rock Brewery. We met up in Sacramento with Gino’s cousin, Joe Capone, who lives in the Fabulous 40s and also hasn’t seen Woody in 25 years, and together we toured the delta, stopped in Locke, ate at Al the Wops, and toured the Bogle Winery.
Woody, Gino, and I drove through the Napa and Sonoma Valley up 101 to walk through Avenue of the Giants. We slept on the coastal headlands in a barn. We spent three days dancing and swimming at Reggae on the River’s 20th anniversary. We drove the coast along Highway 1 from Fort Bragg down to Jenner. We bought Dungeness crab and ate it on the beach in lawn chairs. We went to Teeters, twice. Woody spent every morning he had at our house in the hot tub saying, “This is the life. I’ve got to get me one of these.” Then Woody flew home and Gino stayed for two more weeks.
There’s more to tell. It will have to wait until next time.