More Eyes Than Nays – Hey Whitey

That’s Johnny Carey. Another ghost from my past. I’ve mentioned him in past blogs. I also included him in Finding Jimmy Moran because we go way back. It’s a brief appearance, had to do with Gaelic Park. Johnny hooked me up with a job there slinging hot dogs so that I could catch all the great bands that performed concerts at that open air venue by the Number 1 Broadway subway El.

We also swam on the RNH swim team together every summer. Finally, we married around the same time, hung out as couples and our oldest kids – Tara and Luke – started off their lives as friends.

We now share a similar hair line. All brilliant men do.

Anyway, the funny thing is that I hadn’t been in contact with Johnny for at least 3 decades. Closer to four.

But when I was writing FJM, and was including all of the ghosts from my past, his character leapt out of the mental chorus, so he got a solo.

Then, by shear luck, one day my youngest brother is at some Riverdale based event – supporting one of the locals – when who ends up standing right next to him but dear old Johnny. My brother handed Johnny the phone, and the rest, as they say . . . .

Johnny is a voracious reader, and while I was getting FJM in publishing shape, he burned through The Claire Trilogy. Thank God he enjoyed them. Impressing friends who knew you back in the day is a lot harder than impressing strangers. And Johnny never bought into my bullshit. That’s why he was a friend.

So, now Johnny is reading FJM.

Wait until he finds out I made him a cyclops.

Anyway, enjoy the book Johnny. Love to Helen, the kids, and the grandkids.

And love to Whitey. Today’s blog is dedicated to her.

So now I have to get to my Thursday.

First a kitty cuddle, my rounds and some movable torture.

Oh, and another trip to the Dentist this evening. Fun.

Well, you fine, five readers make a go of it. Friday is right over Thursday’s left shoulder.

But make today a great one.