Hey, Pete: This is becoming the Pete and Jerry show. That's awright...

Here are two footnotes to my story about my Italian friend Colagero of the wounded starter.

A Footnote

This morning, I went for a walk alone again. My wife Ruth was still not quite over the cold she caught last week. I went armed with a few phrases in Italian, sent to me by a friend, hoping to see Colagero. He was no where to be seen, but as I was walking along, I saw another river walk regular. He's about Colagero's size, but looks considerably older. Like Colagero, he never speaks, but he always has a warm smile for me, even though he never answers my greeting of "Good morning." Sometimes he just reaches out his hand toward me as I am passing, and I reach over and touch his sleeve. He's there every day and does the full 3 and 1/2 miles, six inches
at a time. It must take him ten thousands steps to cover the full length of the walk. When I passed him this morning I said, "Good Morning!," Buon Giorno!" and Buenos Dias!" I figured that would cover it all. He smiled broadly, tipped his cap and said "Buenos Dias!" That was our whole conversation. It was enough.

A Final Footnote   

This morning, once again, I headed off alone for my walk, hoping to see Colagero. Sure enough, I wasn't more than a few hundred yards down the walkway when I caught up to him. As I approached him, I called out cheerfully, "Buon Giorno, Calagero, Come sta?" And he answered "Good morning." The next time I see him, I'm going to say "Guten morgen!"

Oh, and by the way, it was the starter…

Jerry