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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (Feb. 27, 1996)
-bruary] 1 eb n e uses my,, d by mai; 1 classes; 'rent orgn i°r Indus;; or, said; page, r many si my studs: computer; lot of pes; t to put I nts in,’J “It’S SOfji pe in stl;! think sd it over; oloney ;■ Senate i; has not-: onse so!t ents will.. ?e once t:; ; it. its’ Unite to be tta h as pose I. “Weka ut and Is ■ent had to 1ft ticai appli dch they:, ’nee hall I nting ms; ce ideas;; as Hall, r one sen ed becacs ;rams th; construe i the coe ew ideas oirited:: 1 carry oit om millet its retmw etter fflde 1 lity toserv e confer.' I think 3 II carrr off ume leal 61 The Battalion Tuesday February 27, 1 996 Aggielife Page 3 Professing their talent Sneaky Pete lives double life as musician, biology professor Gwendolyn Struve, The Battalion Biology professor Peter Rizzo, also known as Sneaky Pete, performs Wednesday nights at Northgate Cafe. By John LeBas The Bati align N icknames can be eternal. Whether endearing or condescend ing, appropriate or unwarranted, nicknames almost invariably withstand the test of time. When Dr. “Sneaky” Pete Rizzo, an as sociate professor of cell biology, was in high school, he became known for regard ing others with narrowed, shifty eyes. So his friends dubbed this the “sneak look,” and the name stuck. “It’s not really a very complimenta ry name,” Rizzo said. “I mean, am I re ally sneaky?” “Sneaky” or not, Rizzo has found a place in the hearts of local students on Wednesday nights. Rizzo has entertained College Station audiences since he began teaching at Texas A&M over 20 years ago. “Wednes day Night Live,” his weekly solo perfor mance, has become somewhat of an A&M tradition since its inception at the Sunset Grill (now Freebird’s) in 1984. With a repertoire of over 1,000 songs, Rizzo now performs on Wednes day nights at the Northgate Cafe. The shows have been popularized by Riz zo’s informal blend of impromptu hu mor, classic sing-along cover tunes and oddball original songs. Audience participation is a defining feature of “Wednesday Night Live.” Rizzo encourages his fans to sing his beloved songs with him, but he said it became distracting to his playing at one point. “I had people coming up on my side and in back of me and singing into my mike,” he said. So Rizzo added a separate microphone for these revelers. The “Sneakettes mike” allows fans to sing their hearts out with out getting in Rizzo’s way. Rizzo became involved with music af ter high school, when he bought his first guitar and taught himself to play. After working for a few years at various labor-oriented jobs, Rizzo de cided to put himself through Indiana State University, where he pursued his interest in science. He formed a band called Sneaky Pete and the Sequents, which played classic rock and performed throughout Indiana on the weekends. Although he loved music, Rizzo found it difficult to pursue both a music career and his education. “I knew in the music business you ei ther have to get lucky or do the grueling road work, which to me was just as dis tasteful as working in the mills,” he said. Therefore, music was put on the back burner while he finished the second half of his schooling. After Rizzo completed his doctorate work at the University of Michigan and joined the A&M faculty in 1975, he dis covered how much he missed music and decided to give solo performing a shot. “Solo work saves a lot of time because you don’t have to worry about finding a band and having them like the same mu sic as you, and you don’t have to worry about the same amount of rehearsal time,” he said. “I figured that I could get back into music by just doing solo work.” This led to gigs at Mr. Gatti’s in 1975 and 1976. In 1984, Rizzo started a band named Sneaky Pete and the Neon Madmen, which eventually died out when his second daughter was born. But Rizzo was by no means through with entertainment. In 1984, Rizzo began to perform solo gigs at the Sunset Grill for the A&M rug by team, which would gather there after scrimmages on Wednesday nights. “Other people began coming who weren’t on the rugby team, and they (the team) eventually stopped coming — I guess when it became a popular thing,” Rizzo joked. Before long, he had built an impres sive local following, and “Wednesday Night Live” matured into a 10-year lo cal tradition. But in Fall 1994, Sneaky Pete was gone when Rizzo went on sabbatical to Harvard University. There, he performed microorganism research with Harvard’s Dr. J. Woodland Hastings. True to tradition and his love for mu sic, Sneaky Pete brought back “Wednes day Night Live” upon his return to A&M in Spring 1995, and the rest, as they say, is history. Rizzo draws inspiration for his off-the- wall, novelty songs from whatever pro vokes a new thought or idea. “Vampire Frogs” was bom from insom nia. A springtime walk through a crowded park with one of his daughters gave rise to “Most Balls are Round,” and “My Kar ma Ran Over My Dogma” was inspired by graffiti that Rizzo noticed on the wall of a Duddley’s Draw restroom. Rizzo maintains a home studio, and he records his songs when he finds the time. Several of his originals have been fea tured on the Dr. Demento radio show on 104.7 KKYS-FM, and “Rotten Banana Song” climbed to the No.l spot on the show a few years ago. Since returning from Harvard, Rizzo has been concentrating on teaching, writ ing new material and raising his family. He intends to keep teaching cell biology and hopes to one day produce a children’s album with his wife, who co-writes many of his songs. Of course, Rizzo has no plans to stop doing “Wednesday Night Live.” “Someone asked me when I am going to quit and I said. When it becomes work.’ When it’s no longer enjoyable. Ill stop do ing live performances,” he said. “They (performances) are essential to the writing, just like research is essential to teaching,” Rizzo said. “Going out once a week in front of people really helps, be cause without that, you won’t even write (new material),” he said. “But I really don’t see this becoming work, so I guess a more honest answer would be, “When I drop.’” Professors, assistants combine musical talents to form the Haydukes By Amy Protas The Battalion I t ipay be a stretch to imagine your professor or teaching assistant don ning an instrument and jamming at the places you like to go outside of class. But that is exactly what the Haydukes, a group of professors and teaching assistants from various de partments on campus, do. Bob Crow, drummer for the Hay dukes and a graduate chemistry stu dent, said he was excited to get in volved with a band again after not playing for a few years. “I’ve been playing off and on for 15 years,” Crow said. “After a music drought in graduate school, I got an itching to play again. When I moved out here, I ful filled my mom’s dream to get the drums out of the house. I met Gary Varner, the vocalist and rhythm guitar player, and got involved.” The band members describe their sound as eclectic. Everyone has a differ ent influence. Styles that have impacted the band include Eastern European mu sic, mountain music from a century ago, blues and jazz. Chris Holcomb, banjo player for the band and an assistant professor of Eng-:. lish, said everyone has different influ ences which come out in the music. “The music we play is really eclectic,” Holcomb said. “There are lots of diver gent influences, and everybody gets to ex press those influences. We play music in many genres. It stretches you as a musi cian. Playing rock ’n’ roll on a banjo is a bit of a challenge.” Holcomb said his guitar teacher inter ested him in the banjo. “When I was in Austin, my guitar teacher just happened to be a banjo play er,” Holcomb said. “I went to see him play banjo in a bar. I heard him, and my chin hit the floor. I went out the next day and bought one.” The origin of the band’s name can be found in Edward Abby’s book “The Mon key Wrench Gang.” Jim Frost, the band’s bassist and a graduate English student, said there are two reasons the Haydukes chose their name. “In the novel, the character George Hayduke is an eco-terrorist,” Frost said. “He has a vision of blowing up the Glen Canyon Dam to free the Colorado River. With three members of the band interest ed in environmental studies, we thought it was an appropriate name. We found hillbilly in our sound and thought the name also sounded hillbilly.” Besides the hillbilly style of the band’s music, folk music is also a heavy influence. Shalini Vallabhan, vocalist and rhythm guitar player and a graduate po litical science student, said her main in fluences are folk. “We have folk, bluegrass and the blues,” she said. “Mainly, we play folk and bluegrass. Our style is very eclectic.” When the pressures of academic life become too much, everyone looks for some sort of outlet. Vallabhan said her outlet is the band. “We’re all professors and graduate students,” Vallabhan said. “It’s a chal lenge balancing school and the band. It’s a good break from academics, but all of us have commitments outside of the band. But we feel lucky to have an outlet. It keeps me sane.” The Haydukes have played at Stafford Opera House, Dead Lazio’s and The Brazos Brewing Compa ny. Crow said there are many viable music venues in town. The problem is the lack of bands to play at those places, he said. “The music scene is definitely lacking,” he said. “We are lacking in bands. Every college I went to, people would just show up at the student unions and start playing. We have a lot of places here for live music. I know the talent is out there. It’s a shame not more is happening.” Jimmie KiHingsworth. mandolin, guitar and banjo player and an English professor, and Varner write K ,spme of the band’s songs. Others are songs, Holcolmb said, that cannot be considered cov ers because they are not well known. The band has created a follow ing, especially within the Eng lish department. “Some of the other English professors and graduate stu dents come out and hear us play,” Holcomb said. “Music is part of the humanities, and maybe that’s the rea son they are interest ed in it.” Dr. Krammer's life experience inspires ongoing study of Dave House, The Battalion History professor Arnold Krammer stands in front of his collection of books dealing with Nazi-Germany. By James Francis The Battalion H istory has a way of playing into the lives of professors. Dr. Arnold Kram mer, professor of modern German history, is no exception. Krammer’s special interest in Nazi-Ger man history has become an integral part of his life and teachings. One of the most fascinating occurrences in Krammer’s life came through a simple call he received in September 1984. An unknown man called Krammer to compliment him on one of his books dealing with concentration camps and German pris oners of war. He later came to admit something only he could tell Krammer. “I’m the last fugitive German prisoner of war,” he said. The man’s name was George Gaertner. After their first talk, Krammer and Gaert ner had other conversations which lead to a face-to-face meeting. Then, another memo rable event took place. “He surrendered to Bryant Gumble on The Today Show,” Krammer said. After the incident was over, Gaertner re ceived his United States citizenship in 1989. It was that phone call which led to Kram mer’s publication of the book, “Hitler’s Last Soldier in America.” As interesting and unforgettable as this ex perience was, Krammer does have other con nections to Nazi-German history. He said two things constantly bewilder him about Nazi history. “How sophisticated a country Germany was and how so many people can be swayed to do things that are so evil,” Krammer said. “I just can’t figure out what made millions put them selves through that.” A lot of individuals would say Adolf Hitler was the reason. At the time of Hitler’s reign, it is true many people were under his command. “Somehow Hitler, as a tuning fork, hit the right sound and caused other tuning forks to resonate,” Krammer said. Hitler was mad, not like Van Gogh or Pi casso, but in a criminal way, he said. The essence of Hitler can be summed up in one sentence. “He was a madman with instincts for his audience,” Krammer said. Although Hitler is dead, it would appear otherwise by the various articles of Weekly World News posted on Krammer’s office door. From headings of “Hitler’s brain is still alive and plotting WWIII” to “Hitler’s secret son found in America!” the list does not end. Krammer said even though the period has been over since 1945, memories of it still linger. “It’s like trying to kill a snake — it never dies,” Krammer said. Krammer also believes the realization of Americans being the same as Germans never fades away. “It could happen here, and it has,” he said. “There have been lots of terrible in justices here.” Krammer said people have to see where they are coming from to see where they are going. “You can’t drive a car without a rearview mirror,” Krammer said. He alluded to a story of a broken stairstep as important information to people who travel up and down the stairway each day, so they will not make the same mistake of walking on that step every time. “Historians tell what stairs are loose be cause we’re all taking the same staircase through life,” Krammer said. When individuals actually takes the stairs up to Krammer’s office, they will find a profes sor who has had many valued experiences. In 1974, Krammer came to A&M. He won a Fulbright Scholarship in 1992 to study in Ger many and has had three books published. Two of the three have also been printed in German. The European emphasis in his teachings Nazi-Germany stems directly from his own past. Both of Krammer’s parents were immigrants from Hungary, and he said he could not help be coming interested in his field of study. “I feel like a cancer specialist, as though I am looking at things under a microscope,” Krammer said. Krammer said he teaches history because he enjoys the experience but does not think he loves all the past events he teaches. “It’s as oppressive a topic as I imagine, but the Nazi-Germany course is the most request ed,” he said. Krammer said students are drawn to the course to find out what really happened. Some students take it to see things from the victim perspective and others from the mili tary point of view. Whatever the reason, Krammer said he wants his students to take something with them when the course is over. “I try to teach them not only what’s hap pened, but the meaning and value of what’s happened,” he said. To reach out to his students, Krammer said he always tries to bring a visual aid to class, such as German money or medals, and he said he is infamous for his maps. “When they feel it, they are closer to it,” he said. “They realize that this craziness really happened, and I make sure everyone sees what I’m talking about.” Another way Krammer’s students get to ac tually feel history is by experience. This second summer session, he and Professor Shandley of the German depart ment will take a group of students to the beaches of Normandy. The trip will ensure experiences the stu dents will come to value, but traveling is an important part of Krammer’s life. “I was bom and raised in Chicago,” he said, “and came to Texas A&M because I was tired of winters and looking for an adventure.” Throughout the many encompassing events in his life, he has lived his dream.
