I caught a fish THIS BIG!

One of my co workers said to me recently that she doesn't laugh like she did as a kid or even as she did as a young adult. One of those belly laughs, that just comes from inside you and you just can't stop. I told her I still have so many laughs like that and I wonder if I'm just lucky? I have funny people in my life, family, friends and one of the funniest is my youngest brother Joey.

From the time he was a baby he had a huge audience. He's the youngest of the 7 of us and there was more often than not company at our dining room table. His high chair was his stage! My friend Kathy has reminded me lately of his days when he was into the show "Happy Days" and especially the Fonz. Our brother Bob bought him a faux leather jacket to match the Fonz and Joey was the Fonz. Again, Kathy reminded me how Joey would answer our front door in his Fonz jacket saying "cool yule". He was always entertaining.

Joey and my youngest sister are only 3 years apart and as kids they could be best friends one minute and fighting the next. My parents would constantly tell Deb "why do you listen to him" and Joey would bust her chops more by saying one thing, followed by "why do you listen to me" with a smirk on his face, infuriating her more. He would almost touch her and she would scream and tell on him and he wasn't touching her, he was tormenting her. Unfortunately for Debbie, all her friends loved having Joey around, they got a kick out of him and though Debbie finds him hysterical now, the last thing she wanted when she was a teenager, was having her little brother hanging out with her friends. But he was their entertainment.

My sister Linda can laugh at him now and there's a 10 year different between them but he wasn't so funny to Linda. I came hoe from work once and he was about 8 and Linda 18. Joey had locked her out of our house and was smiling at her in the window. She was furious and I was laughing. I mean he was 8. How did he get her locked out, she was babysitting. She's a great mom now and I'm glad to say that none of her children have or want to lock her out of the house. Well, they haven't locked her out of the house.

And me, well I was always laughing at Joey, I thought everything he did was cute or funny and my father used to tell me, all the time, "someday you're not going to think he's so funny". Never! How could I not find Joey funny!?

I hate to say it but there was a short time that my father was right. Parents always are!!!

Growing up our front door was always unlocked. I remember my mom going through the "locking the door" stage but it never lasted very long. There were too many of us and at one time or another someone was ringing the bell because they lost their key. She just gave up.

There came a time when it was just Joey and I living in our family home and I worked all day and didn't really like the idea of leaving the door unlocked. Joey was about 20 and though I loved most of his friends, I didn't want any of them walking in and out of the house when we weren't home. We started to lock the door.

I cannot tell you how many times Joey lost his keys! Really. I can't count. He worked a local job at that time and would leave later than I did and get home earlier. He would be out until 2 or 3 in the morning and wake me up to let him in the house. Again, I really can't count but it was ridiculous. The mornings after he woke me up, I would be super pissed and yelling at him for losing another key. How could this keep happening? He even had a car!! He had a car and that key he never lost! Why would anyone keep 2 separate keys? Joey!

Finally one morning I came down to breakfast after another night of being woken up in the wee hours and greeted Joey with a big smile and said good morning. He was shocked and asked me what was going on. I told him I had it with the lost keys. From now on if he lost his key, he had to wave a 20 dollar bill at the window after he woke me and if he didn't have a 20, I wasn't opening the door.

Do you know that was the last time he lost his key!? How much money I could have made! Now I laugh about it but I coulda made a mint!!!

Speaking of mint. I had this mint garment bag, a really expensive well made bag that was a gift from co-workers and Joey was going away for the weekend and asked if he could use it. I hadn't even used it yet, but I figured what could he possibly do to it? Well...Sunday night Joey comes home and tells me how much fun he had. I told him I was glad but where's my garment bag. He told me he came home with a different group of guys and my bag was in another car and would be dropped off. I still wasn't worried. He then told me how he and his friends shaved an eyebrow off of their friend Mike when he passed out. Mike was fair skinned and blue eyed but had really dark hair and dark eyebrows. Poor guy, he had to shave the other one, wore sunglasses for a month or so and the nickname "Brows" lasted for years.

The next day I came home from work and noticed that someone left my garment bag on the deck in the backyard. Perfect condition! I decided to unpack the bag and throw his clothes in the laundry and brought the bag inside. When I unzipped it I was disgusted to find that it was filled with fish! All different kinds of fish. His toothbrush was in the mouth of a fish, his shoes were filled with them, pockets of his shorts and jackets filled with fish, everywhere fish!! Oh yeah, I forgot to mention it, Brows worked at the Fulton Street Fish Market. I was fuming but our Joey, as usual, shrugs it all off, trust me the guy doesn't sweat the small stuff, bought me a new bag, which I told had to be girly, with flowers or something, anything that would look ridiculous for him to carry. He did and all was well, for then.

Not long after, I came home from work and Joey told me he had gone fishing and there was fresh fish in the fridge and also to come out in the yard and see the big fish he caught which he had in a cooler. I looked at the fish and I guess it was a nice size but I shrugged and asked him what he was going to do with it. He told me he wanted to show his friends. A day went by, 2 days, 3 days, by the 4th day I could see through the glass doors to the back and there were flies surrounding the cooler. When Joey came in I told him to get rid of the fish. I said there were probably maggots in the cooler. He brushes me off, like I'm crazy and walked outside, closing the door behind him, but I could still see him. He opened the cooler and jumped back from the smell. I knew it had to be bad when he jumped and unfortunately when he came back in, so did some of that smell. It was airborne, not long before the entire neighborhood would be smelling it. I told him to get rid of the fish and the cooler. NOW!

I didn't know what he did with it, but it was gone.

At the time our yard faced a new street where there would soon be a school and supermarket. People would take walks back there for exercise or just checking on the development of the school and most of the people that visited our house parked back there. I could hear people talking as they walked by our back fence and then I would hear them gagging, asking what was that smell?! I was going to kill him!!! I can't believe he just took the fish and threw it out by the construction. Then our doorbell rings. It's our neighbor, who had to have seen the cooler from his own back window. My neighbor just looked at me like, sorry, but you know why I'm here. Again, I wasn't laughing, I told Joey to take the cooler and the fish to the city dump. He went out the front door to get his car and drive it around back to pick up the smelly gross cooler.

I had to make sure he wasn't going to just move it further away from our house and as I was walking out the back gate, my sister and her husband had just parked and were getting out of their car, waving the air in front of them and also looking like they were going to gag. What the heck smelled so bad! I told them and they were laughing. It was Joey, he just has that way, you can't help but laugh, a lot more when you don't live with him. Joey drove around and grabbed the cooler and was about to put it in his car when my brother in law stopped him. He told him not to put it in his car, he'd never get the smell out. Tie it to the back of the car and drag it and that's what Joey did. The only thing is, on the first turn he made, of course way too fast, the cooler swung around, popped open as of course he didn't tie it closed and the fish went flying out into the middle of the intersection, coming apart and and that was where Joey left it, with the cooler still hanging from the back of his car. Those poor people that lived up the street, it stunk for days.

A much more responsible fisherman turned 70 last year and I designed his party favors. Bobby loves to fish and though he never caught one this big... he got a kick out of seeing himself in this shot.
I searched on line for pictures again, just searched for "fishermen" and chose the best picture. It's kind of hard to see but the cartoon fisherman is also Bobby's face. I made labels for the one-serving sized wine bottles for the adults and then did party bags filled with Swedish Fish for the kids. The party bags are another great idea and I've used them for many parties. You can use baggies, or go to a store like "Michaels", or a craft supply store and find whatever size bag you need. Look where they keep supplies for making your own chocolate. I make tent cards and fold them over the bag and staple it, you can use glue but the staples are easier and the kids are going to just rip open the bags anyway. Fill the bags with toys, candy, whatever is appropriate for the occasion.



Now I love to tell the stories of Joey driving me crazy and I laugh. To this day he tells me bogus fishy stories and I'm like, really?! I fall for it all the time. I'm gullible but he's really good at it. He is our family's and his friends best entertainment, all the kids in the family call him Uncle Dodo, a nickname from our niece Irene. His children have his sense of humor in different ways and they have given me so many belly laughs, laughing til I'm crying, as all my nieces and nephews have done at certain times but these 3 have Joey in them, especially his youngest.

Belly laughs, uncontrolled laughter, the wonderful feeling it gives me is still a part of my life. My friends and I don't see each other as often but when we do get together, there's always a moment where we are laughing like children. I try most days to go about my day with a smile inside, it feels good and can be infectious to those you meet.

In my life, I caught a fish THIS BIG!!!!

Bruce Springsteen and the Lamp

In case you don't know it by now, I'm a big Bruce Springsteen fan.

When I worked at RKO, in my late teens and early 20s, I had a few bosses who got the biggest kick out me and my love of Bruce and I don't think there was anyone in the office at that time who didn't know I was a fan. On Monday mornings after my weekends "down the Jersey Shore", one of my bosses would love to discuss my weekends over morning coffee. I was always telling him how I "almost" met Bruce. Almost! Too many times almost. I would walk into a bar down the Shore and hear someone say, Tricia you just missed him, he was here, he sang! I couldn't believe my luck. When would it be my turn!! Even recently, my friend Karen lives in Jersey and attended an equestrian event for her niece. Who's there. Yes Bruce! And his wife Patti, as their daughter is also an equestrian. So there's my friend Karen hanging with them and chatting, doing her best to pretend like she's just talking to a fellow parent watching their kids, but in her mind she's thinking I'm actually standing here hanging out and talking to Bruce Springsteen, and wait until I call Tricia and tell her, she's going to be flipping! And yes I was!

Karen and I met at at Burger King where we worked after school and weekends during our high school years, and then ended up working together at RKO. We didn't work in the same department but got to have lunch together and added extra fun during lulls in the day when we could take a break from our work.

I worked in the advertising department with a small but hugely awesome group. Pam was the director, John the manager, Theresa the coordinator and I was the secretary. I learned a lot from these three talented, creative people in the years that I worked with them and our little department was always the center of social chats in the company. There was always someone stopping by to chat and get a good laugh. Yes, from me sometimes. But John, John was the super funny guy in our office. From his outward appearance, you would never expect the kind of man he was inside. He was so funny and silly and was always coming up with ways to make me laugh.

I used to type all the press releases, before computers and had to be very careful not to make typos. After they were typed up, John and I would proofread them together and John could even make proofreading fun. If there was a funny name or word, he always came up with something clever to say. Usually the next release I typed up would include those funny names or start out as a normal press release and then, as I was typing, I would realize that he was writing a story about me, and would just sit at my desk laughing. Those co-workers were great role models in my life, and of all the jobs I've had in my working career, that time with them was one of my most favorite.

Pam and John had their own offices and Theresa and I shared the outside office. I was the last one hired in the department and by the time I starting working, all three of them had nice lamps on their desks, giving the office a different atmosphere than any of the other brightly overhead lights everywhere else. I ordered a lamp but in the meantime Theresa had to deal with the bright lights and not having a cool relaxed atmosphere.

The lamp took forever to come. I remember calling the store, which was located in the lobby of our building and being told that it still wasn't in and they would call when it was. It got ridiculous after a while, and Theresa was itching to get the lighting atmosphere back to the office we shared.

One time Pam was out of town on business and Theresa asked me to call downstairs again and ask where the lamp was. I got the same answer, still on order and as soon as it came in I would be notified. When I told Theresa she decided to call back and pretend she was Pam, was outraged and demanded that the lamp be put on special order and delivered as soon as possible. I think the lamp arrived a day or two after. When the lamp came, Pam was still out of town and Theresa and John were out at lunch, but my friend Karen was around and helped me unpack the box.

When we unpacked the lamp, it seemed like there was cardboard wrapped around the base of the lamp. We both tried to peal it off, but that wasn't so easy, then we got a razor blade and cut the cardboard off the lamp. Not easy either, it seemed like this cardboard was really stuck on! After slicing down the middle of the lamp we were both shocked to learn that the cardboard was what the lamp was made of and we had just ruined it, we sawed it in half!

We didn't know what to do. We moved the evidence from my desk and into Pam's office so no one would see what we had done and tried to glue it back together. This was not working! Before using the razor blade, the pieces we were ripping off the lamp were not easy to put back together and the lamp actually looking better sawed in half!! John walked into the office and Karen and I, looking as guilty as a kids being caught with their hands in the cookie jar, jumped in front of the sawed in half lamp to hide it from John who knew instantly something was up. When he saw the lamp, he did his usual slap on the top of his bald head, saying, oh, what did you girls do, you're in trouble, I can't believe you sawed a lamp in half! I was also freaking out about the fact that Theresa had also pretended to be Pam, throwing the weight of her title around, and threatening to stop having any business with the store.

John said I should bring the lamp back, which I wanted no part of! I wasn't going down to the store and telling them I sawed this lamp in half! Karen told John she would go with him and I was so relieved. At least I didn't have to explain this disaster! We packed it up and sealed the box. When they got down to the store, John called me and said he really thought I should be the one to return the lamp. I didn't want to, but reluctantly went down to the lobby to meet John and return the lamp and explain to the store manager what happened. When the manager came up to us, I was nervous and all I could utter was that this wasn't the kind of lamp I thought I had ordered. The man just took the box from me, didn't open the box, never looked inside and said no problem, we'll take it back. I looked at John, like, do I have to add the fact that the lamp has been sawed in half? I don't remember what John said but we did leave the store without me adding anymore to the explanation. I was so relieved, though still worried at some point they might open that box and then what would happen?

Weeks, maybe even a few months passed by and no word about the lamp. I actually started to forget and not worry. Until one day when the Controller of the company called my office. He was a great guy but on this call he sounded angry, asking me what did I do to that lamp? How could I return it to the store sawed in half! The store was ready to call the president of the company. I was flipping out, I grabbed the phone to the corner of my desk and walked into Pam's office, stretching the wire to reach John as he was by the office door talking with her. Trying very hard not to let Pam know what was going on, I told John, Frank was on the phone and wanted to know about the lamp. John took the phone but after only a minute or so handed it back to me and told me Frank just wanted to talk to me. By this time I may not have been crying, but I was scared and tears were welling up in my eyes. When I got back on the phone, Frank just told me to come to his office to continue the discussion. His office wasn't too far from mine, I ran down the hall and by the time I got there I was crying, I didn't want to lose my wonderful job over this lamp!

I got to Franks office and every one in the entire firm was waiting there, with Pam and John right behind me. Surprise! Happy Birthday!!! I was so frazzled, I forgot it was my birthday. And even with every one in the office smiling and greeting me I was still crying. I still thought about the lamp and and being in hot water! Frank, Pam and John felt so bad I was crying, but that still didn't stop them from laughing too for being able to pull off such a great surprise. It had been a perfect plan to keep me off track about my birthday and my surprise. Well it worked! It took me a bit of time to calm down and to notice my birthday present, a life sized cut-out poster of Bruce with a back board so it could stand all by itself. One of my favorite birthday gifts!

I had it sitting behind my desk for years until I left RKO and worked in the financial world downtown. I don't think my life-sized Bruce poster would have gone over too well in that atmosphere! I took my poster home and it hung on my walls for many years until I grew out having posters all over my room.

I only have pictures now of that awesome poster and it will forever remind me of that silly cardboard lamp, the creative, talented people I worked with at the time and as always my love of Bruce Springsteen.

Heart Made Happy Birthdays

In honor of what would have been my mom's birthday today, I'd like to share some heart made birthday ideas that can make them so memorable for those you love.

At some point, my mom used to put Post-It notes all over the house on our birthdays. I would wake up and see them everywhere I turned. From my bedroom, to the bathroom, to going into the kitchen and making my cup of coffee and walking out the door, a little note from my mom that said happy birthday. I smiled every note I found. But I know as happy as those notes made me, my mom was so excited doing it, so filled with love. Reading between the lines and knowing that every note meant "I love you". I can imagine her sitting down, writing our little notes and thinking about nothing but me. I can imagine her beautiful smile as she was putting them up all over the house knowing this simple little note was going to make her children happy. I can't look at yellow Post-It note without smiling in my heart.

On our birthday, there was always a home made cake, actually there was always home made cake in our house! On our birthdays we got to pick our favorite. When my niece Irene was two, my mom baked a few cakes and told her she could do whatever she wanted with two them, they were hers. She could stick her tiny little fingers in the cakes and lick the icing off, she could have the all the icing and not eat the cake, she could smash them, she could smooch it in someone's face, whatever she wanted. Irene, who was the center of attention being the only grandchild at the time, often sat on the dining room table entertaining us so she was right up close to these cakes. She was beaming! I don't think she even knew what to do at first. Wait a minute, I can stick my fingers in the cake? Who tells a kid that they can do that to their birthday cake? How many kids do you know that just want to stick their fingers in and taste the icing, only eat the icing? All of them!

Irene doesn't remember that day as she was so young, but she has seen pictures, she has heard the story many times and tells it now herself. Irene called her mother's mom Grandma and my mom was Grandma Cake. I guess that birthday was the start of that endearing nickname. I bet Irene can't look at a cake, taste a cake or even hear the word "cake" without thinking of her Grandma Cake.

Years ago I worked for an attorney named Lori. She was a mom and also a wonderful photographer. She had a lot of pictures of her work in her office. Before she was a mom, there were lots of nature shots but after her son Sam was born, everything was Sam and she really took some interesting shots. She loved to take pictures of him from behind, loved to see the little shape of his shoulders as he sat in the sand, or the back of head, and the little wrinkles babies have on their necks. As he got older those pictures also captured some moments better than the ones of his face. I don't know if you agree, but I haven't met a kid who doesn't ham it up and love having their picture taken. And as beautiful as these children we love are, their smiles are forced and you're not catching a true smile, a real moment. I love taking pictures of the kids when they don't know, well not just kids, anyone. It's great when you take just one picture and capture so much more.

For Sam's birthdays, Lori took pictures of Sam, first each month, and then after 2 years old, on his actual birthday. Each picture she made a little sign that said "I'm 1 Month Old Today" or "I'm 1 Years Old Today", etc., etc., etc. When Sam looks at those pictures as an adult I hope he reads between the lines, I hope he sees the photographer behind those pictures, the love his mother had, celebrating her time with him more than counting his birthdays.

Below are pictures from one of my birthdays. I love the look on my niece Jessie's face. She's tickled pink with the unconventional birthday cake. That silly banana cake made my birthday special. Jessie was thinking about me, she was sharing my laughter, my happiness, it's what made my birthday and these pictures memorable.

So simple, so easy.
You don't have to buy it in a store and what you get back from it you can't buy in a store.

Happy Birthday to you if today is your birthday and a very Merry Unbirthday to all the rest!

My Mom and Football

Tomorrow, I wish, would have been my mom's 83rd birthday. She was an awesome woman. My cousin Sandra described her perfectly to me recently. She said she didn't realize it until she was older and her children loved one of their aunts in a very special way. She told me she just felt the love radiating from my mother and that's what she noticed with her children and their aunt, they just felt her love and loved her in return. She didn't have to buy them anything or take them all over the place, or see them every day, she just loved them.

My mom was a big sports fan. She grew up with the Brooklyn Dodgers and became a Met fan. She taught my brothers how to keep score and there were always pieces of loose leaf paper all over the house with my mom's score sheets. She went to all their baseball games and football games and I was dragged along from as far back as I can remember until I was old enough to stay home. I am not a sports fan. I can enjoy a football game here and there, baseball bores me and when Michael Jordan was playing for the Chicago Bulls I couldn't get enough of basketball. I do enjoy watching my nephews (and nieces) play sports, it's different than it was watching my brothers. I'm sure you understand. Well, I hope you're as lucky as me to understand!!

Everything was sports growing up in my house, my mom, my dad and four brothers of course, and even one of my sisters is a crazy football fan. I remember coming home sometimes and there would be two TVs in the living room and they would be watching whatever sports were crossing seasons. It was crazy. Superbowl Sunday was the biggest holiday in our family. My mom loved those Sundays. She would make up songs and chant at our parties, get everybody going. Her favorite football team was the Jets and she loved Joe Namath. My cousins, aunts and uncles are also pretty much all sports fans, I'm surrounded by them. My friends too. Again, I can enjoy a game or two but that enjoyment didn't come until years after my mom passed away.

I've written in my blog before how I always wanted to be an actress which is something my mom didn't want for me. She didn't want me to be a part of that life and I can understand now why she was so concerned. She wanted me to get married and have a family. She had that and she couldn't have been a happier person. She was always trying to get me dates, that was her main concern. If she was alive today, I know she still would be trying to find me a husband, it would be her main goal.

One of my brothers is a fireman and our family had all attended a party after his wedding so he could invite a lot of his fellow firefighters. It was a great party and lots of fun but the wedding had started 8 in the morning and it was a long day. I'm sure I was at the second party pretty late, but not as late as my mom, which was usual of me and her. This was her chance to find me a husband in a sea of firemen without me watching her and stopping her from doing it. My mom and aunt took turns calling me and telling me to come back and meet this one, that one, I can only imagine what the two of them were saying.

My mom used to give me sports lines that she said I should use to strike up conversations. And trust me, I don't need any lines to strike up a conversation. I talk to everyone and have pretty much found that an easy thing to do my whole life. I remembering her telling me to say "that Doug Flutie, what a pass". I told her she was crazy. I didn't want to talk about sports anymore, my whole life I was drenched in sports, I had enough sports! And what would I say after asking about Doug's pass? She would just give me more lines. I wanted to be an actress, act! Don't get me wrong, my mom didn't want me to be a phony, she just wanted me to get married. It's funny I ended up dating a guy for many years who was a ridiculous sports fan. He was obsessed with sports and drove me crazy. I think if my mom had met him she would have stopped giving me sports lines to lure men in because that sports fan wasn't worthy of me. She wouldn't have stopped looking for a husband though!

The video clip attached is from the ending credits of the movie "Wildcats" starring Goldie Hawn. I remember the first time I heard this rap I thought of me and my mother. The way Goldie sounds just saying "football". It sounds off and kooky and I always think that's how I would sound using my mom's football lines. Enjoy it's cute!

FDNY Fearless Firemen

On this 9/11 ten year anniversary, I offer my prayers and condolences to those who lost loved ones that horrible day. May all those souls rest in peace.

I have respect and am so proud of those who offered up their lives to go into the Trade Center and Pentagon and save people, the ones that died that day, the ones that were lucky enough to get out safely, and the ones that continued to work at ground zero on 9/11. They swarmed the World Trade Center area even though they could have been in further danger. My brother was still an active member of the FDNY that day, my family was lucky, my brother came home.

God Bless those on Flight 93 that crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, who somehow averted that flight from crashing into wherever that plane was heading and killing more people.

To those that continued to work at ground zero, in dangerous and unhealthy conditions. The men and women in service to our country before 9/11 and who joined up after 9/11.
Thank you, thank you so much for what you did that day and continue to do today.

This morning I took my niece Bella to church. She's 6 years old. When I picked her up, she and her brothers and dad were horsing around and the TV was on with coverage of the new memorial at the World Trade Center site. They weren't really paying attention but when me and Bella got into the car she said to me, "You know, I don't really know what happened that day, I know there was a fire in buildings but that's all I know." I told her that some bad men crashed big planes into the buildings. She said "and they died too? Well they're stupid, they died too." I told her she was right. She changed the subject quickly, said she wanted to talk about forest fires. So we talked about that for the rest of the ride. She asked what she wanted and that was enough for her. I know she has more questions, but for now, she didn't want to know those answers.

Unfortunately Bella knows a little about death and specifically the death of a firefighter, I think that had something to do with ending the conversation so quickly, she's seen people in her family be very sad about that. On January 23, 2005, Bella and her brothers lost their Uncle Richie, Firefighter Richard T. Sclafani of Ladder Company 103, Brooklyn, NY. Bella was born the previous month and never knew her uncle and her brothers were only 4 and 2. The boys talk about him a lot, but I don't think they remember their uncle. The 3 of them know and remember their uncle through pictures and stories they hear and memorials they have attended.

I didn't know Richie that well. I saw him at a few family functions but he was a quiet guy when I was around him. I couldn't get a sense of the man I met but Richie and I are godparents to our nephew Robert and I do remember him being so happy and proud that he was godfather to this beautiful boy, the first child of his only sibling, JoAnn. He was beaming that day. He spent a lot of his free time with his nephews.

When he died I didn't attend the funeral, although I wanted to. I was watching Bella and her brothers. I knew I was paying my respect to him in a way that was needed and during the time I heard stories from the wonderful fellow firefighters who came to help the family with absolutely everything. I heard stories through his sister. Stories about Richie from people in his past. People who maybe just crossed paths with Richie for a year or less and others who knew him longer. He was funny, kind, brave. He was single and worked holidays so the married men could be with their families. I'm sure he approached every fire he fought with the same feeling, let me go before the guy with a family. He was selfless. He was humble, never boasting of his good deeds. He was at ground zero, lucky that day and then taken so soon after.

My niece and nephews, their children and future generations of their family will be able to learn about Richie, when it will matter to them, as when we are young we take it for granted that our loved ones will be with us forever. They will be able to look up on line and read about Richie, see his picture and read newspaper articles about what happened to him. Maybe someday they will read my blog and see what I learned about their uncle.

And really important to me is that they, my other nieces, nephews, and the future generations of my family will learn a little about the bravest most fearless fireman I was blessed to know.

My father died when I was 7 years old. I don't remember him, hazy stuff, it's more that I know he was with me, the memory is of me, not him. I didn't really see him too often as he was working 2 jobs at the time. When he died I was one of five children and my mom was pregnant with number six. I can't imagine how hard that was for my mom, I only know of some things because my older brothers' remember, they were 11, 12 and 13, and my mom's sister tells me about that time too.

Sometime in late 1967 or early 1968, my mom was introduced to Bo by a mutual friend. Bo had been told that she had a 15 year old son. He asked her if she had any other children and she told him, you name the age, I have the child. They dated after for a short time and then quickly decided to get married. I can't believe the love this man had for my mom, I mean I know she was beautiful, inside and out, and how easy she was to love, but as I grew into an adult, I couldn't believe how crazy he was to do that. Brave, fearless.

The six of us were being raised Catholic, my father's religion. My mom was Protestant and not very religious, my father was. That is one of my hazy memories, going to church with him many times at very young age and his snazzy hat sitting on the pew or his lap.

Bo was Jewish, something I only heard in religion classes learning about Jesus and the Old Testament. But I'll never forget when my mom told me she was marrying Bo, the happiness in her face. I don't remember her being sad prior to that. I think I probably knew but didn't want to face it, those memories are buried deep inside of me, and I believe make up certain parts of my personality.

Some of Bo's family readily accepted us in their lives, but his mom wasn't so happy, she almost through herself off the balcony of her building! Her oldest son marrying a woman with six Catholic kids. That was not common during that time. She came around after a few years. I think she realized how happy Bo was. He was meant to be where he was.

My brothers at the time were in their teens and it was a difficult battle in that way for Bo. They remembered my father, who was a very strict man. During the short period of time between my father dying and my mom remarrying Bo, the boys didn't have that fear of getting in trouble from our dad, my mom was much more easy going. She was one of those moms that said, wait until your father gets home. They abused that freedom, even with some of my uncles looking out for them. Bo made a difference in their lives in a really big way, they grew to love and respect him and became hard-working adults. I don't know how life would have turned out for any of us without Bo, but especially my older brothers.

For me and my younger sisters it was different. Bo is the only father we knew. Especially my youngest sister who called him daddy from her earliest memory. Though my sister Linda and I never called him daddy, we don't refer to him as our step-father, Bo was our father. We just called him Bo from the day we met him. By the time we felt he was our father, I think calling him daddy was a foreign word to us. We do refer to him as daddy when we talk about him. We say, "when daddy did this, or said this". I notice when I talk to my older brothers, I say, "when Bo did this, or said this" and I know they refer to him as their step-father. They don't love or respect Bo any less, it's just they remember our first father and we don't.

When Bo got married to my mom he was working in a busy firehouse, Engine Company 230 in Bedford-Stuyvesant Brooklyn. I remember him coming home and smelling of smoke, looking green or grey and sick from being at a bad fire. Their equipment was nothing like it is today. But my mom got pregnant again, number seven now, "OUR" youngest brother, and made Bo move from Bedford-Stuyvesant to a firehouse in Sheepshead Bay, Engine Company 246, which wasn't as busy, still dangerous, but not like Engine Company 230. My Aunt Margie, Bo's sister, lived a few blocks away from 230 and has 3 daughters close in age to me and my sisters and we spent a lot of time together growing up. Aunt Margie always accepted us and loved Bo tremendously. We would go to the firehouse and get ice cream from a freezer that looked like one in the stores, filled with tons of ice cream pops, for free! We made him slide down the poll dozens of times and played on the fire truck. One time while spending the night at Aunt Margie's apartment, there was a small fire across the street. After the fire was put out, Bo shined the light up to Aunt Margie's terrace, he knew I was delighted.

Bo never called us his step children, he referred to us as his children. In my eyes and in my heart, I never felt that Bo loved my youngest brother more than me and my brothers and sisters, never. He loved my mother and part of my mother was us. That's what he told people from day one, if she had 10 kids or no kids, I would have married her, I loved her.

They had a short but beautiful marriage. My mom passed away first, and she was very sick. Bo kept her at home and took care of her when doctors told him she should be in a hospice. But Bo wouldn't do it, he stayed by her side and took care of her until way past being necessary for her to be in a hospice.

He took care of us after that, he was so sad and missed my mom but he had us, we were his life and we meant the world to him, and he told us, often. I am lucky in another way. My family has always been super loving. I don't end any phone call or visits with my family and most of my friends without saying I love you, it's just what I'm used to. It's how I grew up, with love.

Attending Catholic school I remember asking Bo questions about his religion. I remember asking him if he believed in Jesus and he told me he believed Jesus was a good man, an important man in history, but no, he didn't believe what I was being taught, he was taught something different. I grew up in a home respecting that difference. I never thought he was wrong and I was right, or the opposite of that. I grew up knowing it was just a difference in us, like the color of our hair or eyes and skin, we just are who we are, not wrong or right, just different.

Bo passed away in 1992, he suffered a short time with cancer and died just a few days shy of his 60th birthday. Too young. He left everything he had to his seven children.

We were more than blessed to have Bo in our lives. We were so lucky that he was crazy in love with my mom and married her. He jumped into a life that was beyond anything he was used to in so many ways. He gave up some of his family because they wouldn't accept us. They lost out. They missed seeing how happy he was.

I know sometimes people don't understand why God lets so many bad things happen, me to a lot of times. Some people say that God has a plan, we just don't know what it is. Sometimes I think that maybe God's plan when my father died, leaving my mom pregnant with five kids, in a horrible sad situation was the plan...the plan for Bo to be in our lives, for "OUR" youngest brother to be in our lives and his children, my precious Bella, Robert and Jojo. I can't imagine my life without them.

Bo was fearless, brave and so loving. Before I met him and for a years after, until he worked light duty, due to an injury, he fought many dangerous fires, putting his life on the line as firemen do. I am proud to be the daughter of this man, my father, the fearless fireman.

When Bo married my mom, his fellow firefighters jokingly awarded him the "Fearless Fireman Award". Little did they know how right they were.

I've created many projects designing fake newspaper and magazine covers. I try to get the newspaper covers from on line to get the look of the newspapers from the real dates of the times. Below I used Bo's picture for a birthday card, which I made for another brave fireman in my life, my friend Tommy and the 1968 front page cover of the Daily News. Bo is second to the left in these pictures. I also designed the flyer for Richie's street-naming ceremony pictured above.

Again for those that died ten years ago today, may they rest in peace.

My Own Talk Show?

My friend Kathy has been complimenting my postings and has said a couple of times I should write a book and just recently said I should have my own TV show! She said I would be better than Martha Stewart! Wow!

That's just one of the nice comments she's left for me after reading my blog and honestly, I couldn't feel happier when I read her comments, everyone's comments, my beautiful niece and cousin, family and friends, it's a wonderful feeling to be compliemented on my work and on me! Thank you all for all your comments of encouragement and kindness.

So my own talk show. Well first, it would be my own "tawk" show. I'm from Brooklyn, New York and am reminded of it pretty often. At least once a week if not more as I now work in New Jersey. I worked with my friend Jules for a few years. She's from Texas, no accent, she has a melodic speaking voice, an aspiring opera singer, and just listening to her "talk" you can tell that she must have a beautiful singing voice (which she does! I've heard her sing). Julee teased me all the time about my accent. I was on the phone one night at work "tawking" to my sister in law about the American Idol judges. She told me that Simon said something nasty about one of the performers we liked, I said, "vote for her" but Jules heard "vohfaha". She couldn't wait for me to get off the phone to ask me what the heck I was "tawking" about!! When I told her it was "vote for her" she cracked up. It reminded her of hearing girls tawk on the subway when she first moved to New York, hearing someone say "and I hate her hair". She was delighted that we really did sound like girls in the movie "Working Girl" .

If you're not from NY, to understand how exactly the word "hair" was pronounced, see the below instructions for acquiring a New York accent I found on line.

Quote from “eHow” website: How To Talk With a New York Accent

Understand the pronounciation of certain words. In a New York accent, the “r” at the end of a word is almost never pronounced. The “g” at the end of a word isn’t pronounced either. So “going” is pronounced “goin’“ and “here” sounds like “hea”. The “th” sound sounds something between “d” and “th”, but if you’re unsure, speak with the “d” sound.

Know that many of the words that have the “o” sound (like in coffee, dog, talk) are pronounced with an “aw” sound, so the word dog, for example, would sound like “dawg”, as well as “cawffee.” The “aw” sound tends to replace the “o” in all words spoken with a thick New York accent.

Know that the traditional New York accent is strong and rough, often with a deep sounding voice. Words are spoken kind of in a relaxed way. Since New York was at one point very Italian, Staten Island and Brooklyn in particular, people of Italian descent that live in the areas tend to have a little bit of Italian accent mixed in. Familiarity with an Italian accent may make the process easier for you.

Have an attitude. Speaking like a New Yorker is less about what you say, and more about how you say it. New Yorkers are known for being direct, opinionated and confident. They are also known for talking a lot, and talking loudly.

Look to American television and popular movies to listen to this accent. The Sopranos series, and any gangster movies, such as The Godfather, are filled with the NY lingo.

Okay I'm not known for being direct or opinionated and I don't think I have an attitude, but maybe I do sound that way to non-New Yorks. I do "tawk" a lot and I guess sometimes I could be loud, but more I would just say I talk a lot and fast. I once won tickets for a Bruce Springsteen concert on WAPP Radio. I think I had to be caller number 103 or something like that, their radio dial position. In case you haven't read, I am a super Bruce fan! The office I worked in at the time had a phone with the redial feature, very new at the time and it gave me an edge. I tried for weeks to get tickets, would call and get a busy signal or sometimes, actually a few times, someone would answer and say "your caller number twelve" or whatever number, and I would be elated that I even got through. Well finally one day I call and they answer the phone and say "who's this". I know that this is something! I think I've won! I say my name so fast. And after my name I say "did I win!" It probably sounded something like this "Itstrshaglindidiwin". They say "who" and again I say "Itstrshaglindidiwin". When they asked me the third time I spoke louder and spoke as slow as I possibly could. I knew I won and they had to know who I was! I was going to see Bruce again!!! One of my friends was on the bus, commuting home with a Walkman, also very new at that time, and she's cracking up on the bus all by herself knowing it was me right away, she said everyone was looking at her like she was nuts. I love that part of the story too, that one of my friends actually heard me.

So again, a "tawk" show? Here's a sample of what I think my tawk show would be like!



I hope you enjoyed my "tawk" show..."I'm so glad with had this time together..."

Anniversary Adventure

So many of my family and friends are blessed, celebrating their 15th, 20th, 25th, 30th wedding anniversaries. I attended one of my best friend's parent's 50th wedding anniversary not too long ago and it was an honor sharing that day with them. I work for lawyers, I type a lot of documents about divorce cases, kids caught in the middle of them, it's sad. When I was a growing up, I hardly knew anyone who was divorced, it was a strange thing to me. But even if there are more divorces today, there are still so many good marriages, and again I'm so happy for those I know who celebrate all these years together as well as all the strangers who do as well. Happy Anniversary!



About 20 years ago my aunt and uncle were celebrating a big Wedding Anniversary and we all wanted to do something very special for them. My aunt is my aunt of course but she's like a big sister, a mom, and a friend. She lived with us until I was about 5 and we even shared a room for many years (though she locked me out of it for getting into all her stuff!)

I got an idea from one of the guys I worked with. His daughter had turned 16 and he gave her 16 hand made gift certificates. One would be a day of not having to help around the house, or an envelope filled with money for a movie, a manicure, all different things. I changed it a bit and it made for a great anniversary for my aunt and uncle and they enjoyed the entire day.

Prior to the day of their anniversary they were told to make no plans but be ready and dressed casually to go out first thing in the morning because plans were being made for them.

I made up a bunch of notes, some were instructions and some were little reminders of the first time they did all sorts of things in their 25 years of marriage. When they woke up and went downstairs to make their morning coffee they found money with a note that said go have "Breakfast at Tiffany's" (a local diner in their neighborhood at the time) and each of the instructional notes had another "memory note", which they couldn't open until they were at whatever destination we sent them to and those notes said "remember this first time or that first time", like at their breakfast it said "remember the first time you had breakfast together, remember how you felt that first time" and also telling them where to find the next note.

Then we had them drive out to Staten Island where my sister lived and she had a bunch more notes and instructions to give them or hide in their car. We gave them the toll money for the Verrazano Bridge, and that memory note asked them to remember the first time driving over Verrazano Bridge, how much was the toll, where did you go, what car did you have then.

When they got to my sister's house she gave them another note, and put more in their car, on the steering wheel, in the glove compartment. One note said "here are tickets for the movies, you can pick whichever one you want to see, just give us a call and let us know the time your movie will end, also enclosing money to pay for their snacks and asking note asking them what was their first movie together and how much that cost, did they both like it, what candy did they buy then, do they still have that candy in the movies, what movie theatre did they go to, etc., also asking that once the movie did end to look for one more note in the glove compartment of the car. That last note said go home and get a little more dressed up for an evening of more fun.

When they got home our family and their friends were all waiting on their front lawn with balloons and signs instead of hiding inside the house and yelling surprise. They weren't expecting a party as they thought the day they had had was their anniversary gift and maybe dinner out or with the family would be the ending.

It was a great party and both my aunt and uncle enjoyed their adventure, following their instructions and reading the notes, walking down memory lane. It was a day all about them, pushed to remember the small things that happened in their lives together, the day to day stuff that you take for granted, but nice to think about all the same.