A heated neighborhood rivalry between the Seabury Pawnees and the Minford Marauders came to a halt when Joey yelled, “Hey Jerry, get your mother off the field, this is an important punchball game!” “Cut it out Joey, Don’t talk about my mother like that. Did I ever say anything about your mother?” “Mom, please… Continue reading The Bronx? Yes Thonx!
An Eighty-eight Year Old Goes to the Gym
Why was I running five miles daily on the track at Spring Valley H.S.? What brought me and my sneakers five miles and back on the the asphalt of Route 45? Since I played football for Doc Weidman at James Monroe H.S., physical fitness was my signature. Now, 70 years later, I am at Blink… Continue reading An Eighty-eight Year Old Goes to the Gym
Laundry in the 1940s
Laundry in the 1940s Alas Mom. I could still picture you stooped over the bathtub, kneading our clothes against the corrugated metal washboard while its shaky legs swayed to the rhythm of your stroke. Then rinsing the clothes for our family and the free-loading border, my uncle. I could imagine the awful graphic impressions the floor’s… Continue reading Laundry in the 1940s
Crotona Park Lake
No, it didn’t freeze. What’s going on? We had cold weather for the last two weeks and the lake hasn’t I frozen, It was frozen, but to a depth where skating was not permitted. I’ll go to the Crotona Park Lake and see what’s going on. While crossing cobble-stoned Boston Road, for good luck I… Continue reading Crotona Park Lake
Korea 1952 The sun remained in its permanent position, frozen, but not a single cloud could find it. Battered branches of leafless trees provided little shade on this brutally hot July day in Korea. As if my clammy, unwashed, two-month-old skivvies and fatigues feared of being removed, they clung to me as if they were… Continue reading Skunk Hunt
Our Kitchen Table
Mom served her meals on the surface of our heavy, baked enamel tabletop; a legacy from the previous tenant in our tenement apartment. A pattern of linked royal blue, one-inch diamonds ran along the outer edge of the top and also formed a large diamond at the center. Dad color-coordinated it by painting its legs… Continue reading Our Kitchen Table
Jennings Street Market
It was a multistage theater with performances in each venue as unique as the performers. Each act had a single booking, because it was impossible to replicate. Cecil B. DeMille’s spectaculars could not compete with the dramas played out daily on the sidewalks of the Jennings Street Market in the Bronx. The curtain opened to… Continue reading Jennings Street Market
A Lump Called Trump
Six foot two Weighs two-thirty-nine Is this an Adonis Or a malodorous swine? Two-thirty-nine? His ass weighs that much He didn’t pass his physical Does this hog need a crutch? “He’s 4F “ said his doctor, “He has a bone spur in his heel Vietnam is treacherous Like a pig he will… Continue reading A Lump Called Trump
An Intrepid Hero
A young vet on a float waved in a smiled at me at a recent Memorial Day parade. I smiled and waved back. He carried me back sixty-six years when I was with Company L, 15th Regiment, 3rd Infantry Division in Korea. Our company was in the rear awaiting replacements for our casualties. It was… Continue reading An Intrepid Hero
Look At Him!
My Marty was on the Dean’s List Straight A’s through college Put on your raincoat girls He’s a fountain of knowledge. All the women adore him His mother loves him the most Try and seduce him girls You’ll smolder like burned toast. He’s a doctor, my son The best in his profession… Continue reading Look At Him!