When I first arrived in New York, before I visited my brother Eddie and buddy Petey in NJ, I stayed overnight at the beautiful Warwick home of my son and DIL, Mark and Sara – God Bless The NYPD and all first responders.
where I got to visit with my grandpups, Jax & Ella.
And I will tell you all about that stately home, and its other occupants, which I dreaded leaving after just one week, but first I must share my return to the stomping grounds of Riverdale, where it all began.
That required a long trip South which culminated on Exit 22 of the Saw Mill River Parkway,
Past the Riverdale Avenue sign on the corner of 254th Street, where you can also find Mush Park and the baseball field/playground Woods
But my first run into Riverdale in seven years had me jonesing for just one thing,
Indeed, I drove right past the family compound on Mosholu Avenue,
and down the hill where I had spent so much of my adult life enjoying Bronx Italian food.
There, I received the warmest welcome anyone could want from the proprietors – two Albanian Vampires that have not aged a moment since I left – Flora
and Sal
And then caught up on the seven years worth of neighborhood gossip while I devoured a beautiful Eggplant Parm Hero. On the house I may add.
After an hour of food, hugging and kissing, I bade them farewell and went on a vehicle tour of the old haunts, like St. Maggies (which has since devoured St. Gabes – Lenny’s old grammar school),
And then the church, where my class engaged in the first confirmation (still remember the Bishop’s slap), and where I spent many an early morning serving as an altar boy, drinking altar wine and nibbling on unconsecrated hosts, and also ran a few pew races, and did some praying, not enough confessions, attended quite a few weddings and later saw off too many of my friends and family.
Speaking of that last bit, there was always one final stop in the neighborhood where we all said goodbye.
Then I drove by the one place where I may have enjoyed myself way too much – Aunt Violet’s Flop House,
The triangle on the upper left is my old bedroom. Got my ear pierced by Goose during a vodka party in the living room behind those smaller windows in the center, many friends (and Joe’s dog Jessie), sat on that overhang way too drunk or stoned to be out there, Joe went out the bathroom window in the back of the house, and those damn cows grazed at the back end of the driveway to the left of the photo.
But those are all fantasies. I will not confirm or deny anything else that may or may not have happened there.
This may be a good time to mention that I am not Jimmy Moran.
Finally, I drove up to the family compound, where a lot of the FJM story is based.
A lot of ghosts in that house. Glad to see they left the lights on for me.
As I needed to prepare for that night’s reading at An Beal Bocht, my brother John had left the upstairs apartment – where I grew up and where I lived as a husband and father for my last ten years in Riverdale – open for my use.
But before I went up I got to see my great nephew – John Patrick (John and Tara’s grandson) – and his mom Joyce,
(my nephew J-M was at work) and, next door, I later also got to catch up with my niece, Taylor,
But the first thing I did when I went inside was to return to the spot where I got to meet my first ghost,
where I spent many a year and had a lot of wonderful memories living in the attic dorm, but sadly the attic has now been relegated to storage. Probably a good thing. Joyce shared how she’s always hearing footsteps and random bumps and noises from the empty upstairs apartment and attic (she lives on the first floor with JP and JM and their very cool cats). But Joyce is family, and McCaffreys never minded a good haunt. I got to experience a little of that when I crashed there after the Downey’s reading, but I’ll save all of that for another blog.
Suffice it to say that I spent the next few hours getting my sugar rush sipping cappuccino and gobbling sweets from the very hip Italian bistro that recently opened across the street, while I listened to squeaking from the attic floorboards above me and prepared for my reading later that night at An Beal Bocht. That turned out to be a pisser. More tomorrow.
Now you fine five readers need to finish your caffeine beverages of choice, and embrace your Friday. Thank God.
Remember to hand in your week’s work and skip out as soon as you can.
There are leaves to watch change color, football games on TV, baseball playoffs (Go Yanks), and maybe even time to read a book. Watch a scary movie and put out your Halloween decorations if you find yourself with spare time.
I’ve got some kitties to cuddle and rounds to make.
Then a morning appointment with my very patient – and incredibly brilliant – accountant, Bob K.
Then some legal work so that I can justify having an accountant.
(Of course, when I land that movie deal, my accountant shall be very busy)
But, no matter what else we do, let us make today a great one.
I would kill for a Baked Ziti Sorrentino with mushrooms from Dino’s right now.
Maybe I can get them to deliver.
3 Responses
Good memories I’m sure! I enjoyed reading this since it is also part of my memories.
Fuhgeddabout Chazz Palmintieri… You have your own “Bronx Tale!”
Chaz would make a great Valachi.