It must have been the Chef Boy-Ar-Dee I had for a late night snack because I woke up feeling positively Italian earlier this week.
After I combed back my hair in front of the floor to ceiling mirror in my living room and bricked over my front lawn I opened the Daily News to see a story about John Gotti.
According to the Daily News Gotti gets 500 fan letters a week. Supposedly, Gotti gets mail from places like New Zealand and Zimbabwe. I understand the only joy he gets in solitary confinement is when he reads The Wave and there’s chuckle-item about a certain robust local official. (But he’s also in agreement with some Wave readers who’ve noted the paucity of sports in this column and how I’ve neglected to give proper coverage to the Bergen Hunt and Fish Club).
Speaking of Gotti, Rudy Giuliani our laugh-a-minute mayor went to Arkansas to tweak Hilary Clinton as much as fund-raise, his ostensible reason for going. And I thought he was going there to film My Cousin Vinny II. You think Rudy blended?
Speaking of Giuliani, Robert Deniro is not moving down here no matter what real estate agents tell you. (There are a number of people who resemble Travis Bickle moving in, however).
You know, Travis Bickle. The guy from "Taxi Driver."
So with this overriding urge to act on my Roman instincts I slapped on some cologne, hung an air freshener from the rearview and used my car phone to call some friends on Lasagna Lane in Breezy Point to play some basketball. They laughed at me when I showed up with Ferragamo sneakers.
They don’t like it when I tell them they live on Lasagna Lane but they respond by telling me I don’t even got enough f’n class to live in Irishtown.
The world seemed right when the cherry on top of this cannoli of a week occurred on Tuesday, fireworks by Grucci.
But just when I was about to add another vowel to my last name I got a slap of reality when I had dinner over my mother’s house later in the week. When she served me spaghetti with ketchup I was like an amnesia victim snapping out of it. I’ll never be a gumba no matter how much I try.
But, at least, as my boyhood hero, Bruno Sammartino, used to say: some of my best friends are Italian. Yo Guy Manieri, Yo Tommy Boggiano, Yo Joann Ariola, Yo Louie Pastina, Yo Theresa Lanzon, Yo Frank Iudica, Yo Tom Pepperoni Carroll, please tell Bill Fugazy that I’m only joking and my ignorance in chronic.
**Marty Feeney, Broad Channel legend, would like to remind the masses that the Old-Timer's softball game will be Friday (August 6) at 7:30 p.m. at Memorial Field. A party will follow at On The Waterfront with Blue Monday providing some good music.
**The Rockaway Fighting Irish, an outstanding football program for youngsters, will be joining forces with the Broad Channel Athletic Club. Get in touch with Bill Nolan or yes, Marty Feeney for details.
**Kudos to Brian King, official Graybeard correspondent. His final wrap-up is in this week’s Wave.