The Retort

From the Desk of One Baroque College Student: a Good Man who Will be Missed - Pe

Wed January 13th, 2010 by Lou Donaldson Of The Retort Staff

I could start off with the normal, he was born on this date at this location, he went to school here, got this degree there and another degree here, but somehow that just wouldn’t be fitting for a man like Peter; for you see, Peter wasn’t a “normal” person, he was wicked. Whether it was as a teacher, role model, mentor or just as a friend Peter was the kind that, though blunt at times, could always make you feel better about yourself and/or the situation. He touched a lot of lives and made an impact on a lot of different people from all over, which is understandable since he was a teacher at MSUB (previously Eastern) from 1967 to 2007.

Peter’s revelry in pissing off authority endeared him to many, especially the students with whom he had an open-door policy. It didn’t matter what department you were getting your degree in, the invitation was there to come and b*** s*** with Peter if he was around. One thing that really pissed off the “normies” was when Peter married a former student, but from this union came their son John, who is a spitting image of Peter.

Peter taught us many things, including the difference between nude and naked. It’s so simple and rather funny: if your nude, it’s art, if you’re naked, then you’re up to something. That statement makes me laugh every time I think about it.

In photography class he always joked about there being more film in his freezer then food, which honestly was probably true. Some of his saying were of more of a “what the f***” nature; I can’t remember for the life of me what we were talking about but Peter made the comment that he could f** another man in the middle of campus and so long as he didn’t get paid for it he could call it performance art. After I spit my mouth full of soda across the room I started laughing until I had tears coming out of my eyes; Peter just twisted his beard and chuckled.

He had a meticulous nature which came out in his mailing list for “The Cypripidium Unbound” (previously “The Dead School Epitaph”) which contains a hundred plus names from all over the place that he checked off as he addressed each one to be sent out. Surprisingly enough, Peter was a fan of Murder She Wrote and had a strange affinity for Nascar, to the point where his house is painted “racing green” (slight shudder).

One of the things Peter held on a regular basis was “The Dead School.” Originally started as a bash fest against a fellow professor who shall remain nameless, it evolved into a rather large group of artists, in both the literary and visual sense of the word, getting together at the Grand Stand for a couple beers and whatnot.

On Thursday the 29th of October members of The Dead School, both new and old, got together for an unofficial wake for Peter. We gathered around the familiar bar table with the wall behind us covered in photos of our fallen comrade. Though we were all hurting and dealing with the shock of the sudden loss we all shared it was comforting to be around others who understood. The photo montage on the wall had a strangely captivating quality to it. Even though they were only photos the eyes were truly Peter’s, giving off the same feeling of looking through you, at you, and into the depths of you all at once. The night was spent reminiscing about early Dead School and notorious tales of Peter in all his wicked awesomeness. Like many a Dead School meeting, the beer flowed with the merrymaking being broken by moments of reflective sadness. But Peter wouldn’t want us to hang our heads in misery because he is gone; he would rather that we celebrate his life, him, and his awesome wickedness.