How "El Gato" Got His Name...

Teddy, Teddy, Teddy,

You leave behind a lot of very sad friends. I'm one of them.

Well, I didn't get to meet Ted until the mid sixties. I was pledging Phi Sigma Tau at the old SFVSC. Ted was always nice to me as a lowly pledge. Lowdown, maggot, worthless, scumbag pledge. See, I still remember those good ol' days.

I was only 19. Boy, is that possible? Nineteen? Yeah, I guess so. As most of Ted's fraternity brothers will attest, there were bonds forged then that are still as strong as ever. Who would have thought that over forty years could pass and the "bros" still stay in close touch? Amazing.

One of my fondest memories of those days was when Ted and I were roommates in our fraternity house. Why, I can remember those halcyon days at the dinner table. I remember one time the butter dish was just slightly out of my reach and to my left. I, trying to use my best table manners, asked if someone could pass me the butter. Sure they could. The brother on my left picked it up and took a big hunk out of the butter and passed it to his left. I said, HEY! I just got a grin from all the brothers as I watched the butter plate travel further away from me.

So, after the butter dish made the rounds, it finally got back to me. Empty. Ahhh. Fraternity life. One for all and all for one! Actually, I thought it was pretty funny. Even at the time. I got punked.

And as I mentioned, Ted and I were roommates. Actually, we shared the room with a redhead. Murphy. Ted's dog. Good ol' Murph. If my memory serves me correctly, I do believe that Murphy was so popular around the campus, that he got onto the Homecoming Queen ballot as a write-in. And WON! Ahh. Fraternity hijinx.

Even back then as a student I had a penchant for, ahem, staying out late. Yep, most nights after I got through with my catting around I would head back to the fraternity house late and tippy toe in, shoeless, hoping to disturb no one.

As I tippy toed into our room, once in awhile I'd actually step on Murphy in the dark. Good dog. Nary a whimper. Good dog. Its really a funny feeling to be in your stocking feet and step on a dog with ample amounts of loose skin. Kind of like stepping on a banana peel, but furry.

I could usually sneak in without awakening Ted. I think. But occasionally he'd pry open one eye and muster up a friendly welcome home greeting for me.

The point here is that after so many, many times of habitually coming home in the wee hours after catting around, Ted dubbed me "El Gato". The Cat. The name kind of stuck and that became my nickname. It is on my fraternity mug. Every time I catch a glimpse of that mug up on my shelf, I always think about Ted. Always.

Owen, did you know that it was your dad that gave me that nickname? True story.

So, Ted, I'll miss you a lot. Your legacy is a fine family. I know you're proud.

Larry Ruiz
El Gato