Tuesday, April 10, 2012

(sometimes) wise words

Oh Rene. I could write a novel on Rene. Actually, more like a comic book--anyone working where i work can attest to that. He is Willi's 30 years running business partner, but could not be more different. Where Willi is quick to over-react/yell/generally increase the volume necessary for everyone else to communicate normally over him, Rene is cool/calm/collected and damn proud to be. He is damn proud to be alot of things: to be a hardcore mountain and road biker and skiier, runner, dog-lover, womanizer,-- i will admit-- good looking 50+ Swiss man (very proud of the Swiss part...). (Note: Willi is none of the above, nor is he particularly audibly--and the man is audible--proud; beautifully humble, actually). In the last four years i have come to love these things, among others, about Rene. I have also been driven completely insane by them.

Come to think of it, Rene (Haudy, as those close to him--re:Willi and i--call him; prounounced "howdy," short for his last name, Haudenschilde) prides himself on driving me--and most other staff members, Willi included--absolutely crazy. Or "hyper" as he puts it. As he puts it everyday. This is my storied point about Rene: his tendency to repetition: his slogans, if you will. Allow me to explain: almost on cue to circumstance Rene will half-thinkingly say the same thing he said yesterday under the same circumstances--and most of the time, those circumstances are Rene being bored, or Rene, being a terrible conversationalist (as opposed to Willi, who is a fabulous storyteller, and, though not always apparent, a voraciously attentive listener), throws in one of his comfortable sayings, rather than actually starting a conversation. I get: "What are you cooking Chef Anderson?" Chef Anderson is ready." "Anderson, dont make me hyper." We all get: "Somebody's gonna get hurt real bad." "So, folks." "You're killing me. Its killing me." "Dont make me hyper."  There are so many more that i could list if i could remember, but to tell you the truth, i have learned to tune them out, to save myself from becoming hyper.

Now dont get me wrong. I love Rene; he has been very generous to me--far beyond giving me a desktop computer and bike rack for my car--a solid person to latch onto when the big guy is being uncontrollably audible, who has stuck up for me in these times, who has helped me (in very few words) understand and deal with attacks. We share a love of biking and dogs (but not so much womanizing...), an unfaltering hardcore passion for somewhat masochistic physical activity--though he will not come to hot power yoga with me--though i am less proud of this than him (more afraid of my own love for it). And some of the things he says not just on a daily, but constant basis, stick with me.

Like his insistence that there is nothing worse than overcooked fish. He reminds me of this everytime we cook, or even plate, a peice of fish together. Or even if i just happen to be there, glance at the fish, get caught glancing and get : "Anderson, there is nothing worse than overcooked fish--its the worst." I couldnt agree more, Haudy.

So as i sit here tonight, eating my horribly overcooked tuna steak (honestly, i might as well have opened a can of solid white packed in water for how dry ass this is...), i think of Rene. Of how maybe what he says so often actually means something. Nonono, that is not true--he repeats alot of meaningless things, intentionally i think. But i am thinking of how lucky i am to have Rene: a sounding board for when i get hyper, am being attacked by the permanently hyper, someone i have more than one thing in common with, who cares about me even if he wont say it, who in the end just wants to help everyone else be as relaxed as him without actually conversing with them for longer than necessary. Who has saved by ass on a number of occasions (and me on his, i might as well be proud of), even if he was here to save my dinner tonight.

Good thing he wasnt, either, because often he just makes me hyper.

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