When I think back in time, growing up in an Italian family was very rewarding. Growing up in an Italian family where I was the son, was very,very rewarding. Growing up in an Italian family where I was not only the only son but the only CHILD, was downright awesome. Does this make me sound spoiled? When, I look back, all of my fathers' and mothers' brothers and sisters married and had at least 3 kids in each family. On my mothers side alone my grandparents had 52 grandchildren by the time I was 16 and I, was the oldest grandchild. I simply loss count after that. I have got 2nd cousins, that I don't even know. This to me is mind boggling but what a great time to grow up. Sure, my dad had some real quirks, that I still remember like it was happening today, but when he spoke I listened. Much can be said about that in today's world. Growing up was constantly a learning period. He spoke like a priest, "Do as I say, don't do as I do", "A politician is like a used car salesman, they will only tell you what they want you to know", "Lawyers are made, not only to protect the innocent, but anyone else that will pay them""Do unto others, as you wish them to do under you" or was it unto you, I forget. Amazing, the words rolled off his lips and they live with me today. "Never use the car defroster to take away fogged windows, carry a rag in the glove box for that, using the defroster takes away the power of the engine" wha????? "Not necessary to use chains on your tires in a winter snow. Just put 80 lbs. of sandbags in the trunk over each rear wheel, chains will only rip up the fenders" "Don't put your skis on facing downhill" WWWHHHHOOOOOAAAAAAA. Pretty good advice coming from a man that always said "If God wanted me to ski, I would have been born with feet 6' long and toes that curled up in front"............"Never stop to talk to an angry dog RUN LIKE HELL!!!!!" I was constantly learning something, and many of those lessons are still with me today. You will never catch me putting skis on facing downhill.
I can't remember ever being spanked as some of my cousins were, after a simply lesson of respect to thy parents. Because I listened to both my parents. My mom once said, don't argue or talk back to dad if you see him starting to clinch his fist, that was a lesson that was once tried. I remember as a young guy of 8 years old, I wanted a pipe, like grandpa. My dad told me, he didn't have the money for it. I just could not let it go and played the role of a abused child, laying down on the floor in the tobacco shop, screaming bloody murder, while all the customers gave my dad dirty looks. My father simply lifted me up, kicking and screaming, and tried to explain that there just was no money for the pipe, but NNNOOOO, I didn't want to hear that. He tried everything nice, even trying to promise me an ice cream instead of the pipe. I didn't want to hear that either. He finally took my small hand into his hand and it felt like a closing vise was never ending, smiled at me and continued to squeeze until the hand no longer had feeling. When I saw that the other customers were falling for his kindness to this little screaming jackass, the tears stopped instantly, I got up ,brushed myself off, and walked out holding my dad's hand. That was the very last time I tried that stunt and always remembered what my mom had said. Always watch dad's hands and never argue or talk back if you see him starting to clinch his fist. I remembered what that hand felt like in the jaws of the vise. We'll hear more about mom and dad as time goes by.
