Sorry to hear about Pete Fatovich.  I was eating lunch in the 7th floor mailroom.  Pete passed through and asked what I was having.  I said, baked ziti.  Except, being from Ohio I didn’t pronounce it, “zēdē”, I pronounced it, “zitty”.  From that moment on, whenever he saw me he said, “Hey, it’s zitty!”  R.I.P., Pete.