Longtime readers of Boyle-ing Points (admittedly, a number smaller than Al Stabile supporters seen at Rockaway voting stations) won’t be surprised to learn I didn’t follow my own advice on Election Day. I pulled the lever for Rob Curran, even though I implored all Wave readers to vote for Joe Addabbo. I had intended to cast my vote for Joe, but then those annoying phone calls started. Longtime readers of Boyle-ing points (admittedly, a number small than Lew Simon’s college G.P.A.) will be shocked to hear me admit that I’ve exaggerated in the past. They’d be horrified to know that I’ve been guilty of embellishment on rare occasions but alas, it’s true. However, I speak the unvarnished, stripped to the bone truth now. I got nine calls from Friends of Joe Addabbo asking me to vote for him. Nine. After picking up the phone on call number five, I asked to speak to a supervisor (I’m too kind to use her name) and begged her to take me off the phone list. I asked her if five phones calls on Addabbo’s behalf was excessive (especially since I told the previous four callers that I would be voting for Joe and there was no reason to call again) She thanked me for the support, apologized, said it wouldn’t happen again. Then before hanging up she said, "Are you Boyle-ing Points?" I said, "Ma?" But I digress….
When I got four more calls I knew I couldn’t vote for Joe. I figure we want our reps to be responsive to constituents, right? Now I know Joe has no idea this went on but he is the guy ultimately responsible for these bothersome calls. I’m glad he won but boy did I send a message.
Of course, not only did I take all those calls from Addabbo’s campaign, I got calls from Ed Koch and Hugh Carey about one candidate or another. I had no idea they were recorded messages until I kept asking Chuck Schumer when we were getting the pool at Riis Park. I got one heavy breather, but I told Big Al I wasn’t voting for him no matter what.
More Boyle-ing Points: For the fifth year in a row I spent my Halloween in the basement with the lights off---yelling out bah humbug at little miscreants who didn’t take the hint that no one was home. I had bought a few hours supply of Nestle crunch bars, Mounds, and tootsie rolls to get me through. I mean it’s gotten so old. If I saw one more kid in a Lew Simon mask come to my door I was just gonna lose it.
Al-be-gone Stabile did nothing as a City Council member----except for issuing some statements condemning The Sopranos, the HBO series depicting mob life, Italian-style. With Al hopefully out of politics we encourage him to rethink The Sopranos. We think the show lost something when they killed off Big Pussy. Tell me Al wouldn’t be a great replacement, though I hear he probably won’t resist that lifeguarding gig he’s been offered for next summer.
Just when I think nobody reads this stuff (well I don’t mean nobody. Ruth Graves, David Zuckerman, Turtle McManus, and George Johnson have too much time on their hands because I know they read it and they’re not nobodies) it turns out that I caught the evil eye of some Ariola supporters this week. Hey, it’s only politics. If I were writing about something important, like the CYO or Little League, I could understand the emotions, but, come on!
Separated at birth: Mayoral-elect Bloomberg and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.
Fear not Lew: I’m not writing a regular column (though, who knows, I said I was going to vote for Addabbo last week).