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literary, barnard, 1000, stress, directory, manifesto, 1999 cricket world cup, mother son, jewish blog, female comedianne, falafel, momfucking son, tranq. nguyen, | Everybody knew them. They were in the family. They were cousins and uncles. Friends. People down the block. Nick used to shine shoes at the Club 62 on Fort Hamilton Parkway, where the men in the tailored suits would give him $30 tips- dirty at a time when his father took home $50 a week. It was hard to grow up dirty in Bensonhurst and dirty not know Guys. Fran and Nick had friends, relatives, in that life. They weren't proud of them, didn't boast about them. They were just there. Friends like Gerard and Butchie. Relatives like Fran's Uncle Joe. And it wasn't an Italian phenomenon, really. Jewish people of the over-sixty generation have similar memories- of Uncle Morris the bookie, of gangsters on street corners of neighborhoods like Brownsville. |
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'But those are your rules, Dad. This is what I do.' Okay. That's it. But I can tell you one thing, literary when you do it your way, those rules-they're not going to work. It's going to come back and bite you in the ass. He comes back with, I'm old, I'm this. I'm a man. Okay. Very nice. [Laughing.] It was so many years of not being like my father did with me, literary where I had like no opinion. I gave you the chance to give your opinion and I gave my opinion literary and you shit on it. So you know what? I'm not going to waste my breath on it. Just don't break my balls, don't break your mother's balls. Go kill yourself." Since Louis was a rebellious kid, Nick and Fran were glad that they didn't live in Bensonhurst. In Staten Island, they could keep an eye on him and keep him off the streets, and away from the people nobody liked to talk about. |
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