Bugs by Bob Kaufman

My good friend, Bugs.

Stan Ghidossi (pronounced “Gid – oh – see with emphasis on the “oh”) is one of a handful of my classmates that attended Portola schools all 13 years from Kindergarten to High School Graduation.  He isn’t in my Kindergarten class picture, but I know he was there that year.  I will never forget the day he raised his hand to get permission to go to the little boy’s room.  I don’t remember if he raised one finger or two, but I know we all laughed when he went through the wrong door and entered the girl’s restroom.  We laughed even harder when he came out. What kindergartner wouldn’t get a laugh out of that?  The restroom doors were in plain view next to the classroom, so we could see everyone coming…and going…so to speak.

I don’t remember how he got the nickname “Bugs”, but I envied him a little for it.  It was a perfect nickname, especially for a kid growing up in a small mountain town.  I mean, if guy yells “Hey, Bugs”, everybody knows immediately who he’s talking to.  Say “Hey, Bob”, and fifteen guys turn around and say “huh?”  Maybe he got the name because he was a little smaller than the rest of us or it might have been a reference to Bugs Bunny.  Whatever the reason, he was Stan to most people, but he will always be Bugs to me.

Bugs’ older brother, Willie, was a year ahead of us in school.  Whatever Bugs gave up in size, Willie made up, and then some.  He made 7th grade a nightmare for me.  From the very first day I tried to enter the front doors of the old high school at the end of California street, I became intimately acquainted with the sticker bush at the bottom of the stairs at the main entrance, courtesy of Bugs’ big brother.  I suppose it would be called bullying today, but back then, it was just part of Junior High School initiation.  I wouldn't call Willie a bully. He was just a big guy who liked to have fun...but he scared me for a long time.

The Old Dam Caddy Corner from Bugs' and Willie's House.
Photo Credit: Unknown

Bugs and Willie lived in the yellow house at the corner of Riverside and North Beckwith streets, caddy-corner to the old bridge and the dam that blocked the Feather River, creating the best ice skating rink in the world…but that’s another story.  How lucky was that?  He could go ice skating anytime he wanted – in the winter anyway – just by crossing the street!

Bugs' Jump Shot
1966 Pineneedle

Bugs was one of the best guards Portola basketball teams ever had, at least during the few years that I played.  I know we had fun on the bus traveling to and from the away games at Greenville, Chester, Herlong, and other such exotic destinations, all schools in the Feather River League. But my best memories of our times together were those we spent in the band room.

Bugs played a baritone horn in the Concert Band and I played clarinet.  Together with Bob Hurd, Pete Thill, and Glenn Hull on trombone, and Rory Luce on the Tuba we had a pretty good ensemble, especially in 7th and 8th grade band. OK.  I’m stretching the truth again.  On the days we spent time in the practice rooms adjacent to the main band room, I’m sure we were girl watching more than we were practicing our music.  You see, some of the practice rooms had windows facing the outdoor entrance to the girls’ locker room, and when the boys had band and shop class, the girls had P.E.   Get the picture?

Bugs was good on the baritone, but he was best known for his skills on the piano.  He was the pianist for the Dance Band for four years from 1963-1966. That first year I was not a performing member of the Dance Band. Mr. Thompson asked me to play the Baritone Sax in evening rehearsals, but I did not play at any gigs.  I didn't mind though. I would jump at any chance I had to play the bari sax. Sometimes the vibration in the mouthpiece from the lower notes would tickle my lips and nose, but it created a cool sound. The next three years I was a performing member playing the tenor and alto sax.

Bugs playing the Baritone.
1966 Pineneedle

We rehearsed either on Tuesday or Thursday nights from 7 to 9 PM.  That made for some long days when we had football or basketball practice after school.  Before we turned 16 and got our drivers licenses, Bugs and I had the best time walking home after rehearsals.  We both loved those good old Neil Sedaka songs from the sixties. You haven’t lived if you’ve never walked down Nevada street at 9 o’clock at night singing at a fortississimo "Do-do-do down doobie-do-down-down, com-a com-a down doobie-do-down-down.  Breaking up is hard to-oo-oo do."?  We had the lungs to do it, and the fog from our warm breath hitting the crisp night air turned into snow that blanketed the town the next morning! OK. I suppose we weren't filled with that much hot air, but once or twice during those years, we must have annoyed the Olsen’s, Rees’s, Ayoob’s, and a few others in the neighborhood with our late night crooning!

Dance Band.
1966 Pineneedle

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do by Neil Sedaka

As good as Bugs was as a singer, his forte was the piano.  He could tickle the ivories better than anyone I knew. No, wait. I forgot about Norma Peterson, but she was a grown up, so that doesn't count – and oh, what a story that is! I remember many occasions when Bugs would play the piano before and after concert band and dance band rehearsals, and he had quite a repertoire of pieces he could play from memory.  When Bugs played these impromptu recitals, many of us would stand around the piano firing requests at him before he could release the foot pedal to muffle the string vibrations from the previous piece.  One of the favorites was Ludwig Von Beethoven's “Bagatelle No. 25 in A Minor for Solo Piano”.  It was many years after the echo of Bugs' renditions had faded from the music room of the old high school before I came to know its more familiar title: "Für Elise". (Heck, I had never heard of a Bagatelle until I Googled it the other day.)

Greg VonTour was in Willie’s class. He was a bit of a character, one who was more likely to help Willie throw me into the sticker bush than to play an instrument in the band. I think it’s safe to say he probably was not given to studying classical music. In fact, I don't recall why he ever would have darkened the door of the band room, except maybe to peak out the practice room windows. But one day in particular, he was with a group of us around the piano. I doubt German was Greg's second language.  They only offered Spanish in those days. So “Für Elise” most likely was not in his vocabulary. This much I do know, it wasn’t in MY vocabulary. And forget about the Bagatelle…. I wonder if even Bugs knew that one. But it was Greg who is immortalized in my mind as the guy who shouted out the one request that I will never forget. I wonder if Beethoven rolled over in his grave when Greg shouted:

The Complete Dance Band

"Play Tinga Linga Linga Too"!


Call it what you will, it matters not. But oh, how I wish I could go back to that music room and hear Bugs play it again, just one more time!

Fur Elise

Update: Had this conversation with Bugs on Facebook today, Aug 2, 2019 (So know you know the rest of the story):