I strolled the neighborhood with Dad all the time. Whenever I could I tried to direct our walk past Rappaport’s Toy Bazaar on the east side of Third Avenue between 78th and 79th Streets. They had gorgeous model sailboats in the display window perfect for cruising Central Park’s sailboat lake, south of the Alice in… Read more »
The Losers Lounge has inspired my writing since 1999. It took four years to write my first story and then I couldn’t stop. Each show rich tales are laid out in song. If you want a creative push see the The Losers Lounge at Joe’s Pub. Here is a photo album from Thursday night’s Elvis… Read more »
Do you know New York City has an extraordinary and diverse storytelling community? It’s all over the five boroughs, every night. And many of the events are free. All you need to do is check out newspapers and magazines and online sites like Time Out New York and NYC Storytelling. I’ve been part of this… Read more »
Dad and I did four things together: play sports, attend sports, watch TV, and go to the movies. I liked movies the best; it’s much harder telling a kid what to do in the dark. You would have loved taking me to the movies when I was 6 years old. I was a cheap date,… Read more »
Hello, I’ve been away from AANY for a awhile. My memoir, “I Hate the Dallas Cowboys tales of a scrappy New York boyhood” was released by YBK Publishers last month and I’ve been doing my best to get the word out. The book covers my first 18 years in the working class neighborhood of Yorkville… Read more »
On October 4, 1965, the feast day of Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Stephen of Hungary’s student body marched up to Third Avenue to wave to Pope Paul VI driving by on his way to Yankee Stadium in his limousine. This was important to me on a few levels: We were getting out of sixth… Read more »
Dad had a habit for coming back into the apartment after he left late for work. Most weekdays, Rory and I watched the act as we sat at the kitchen table late for school eating Kellogg’s corn flakes or burnt toast (not Mom’s fault. Toaster was on the fritz, everything came out dark). Like Dad,… Read more »
Tomorrow is my parents wedding anniversary or as I refer to it the anniversary of the opening volley at Fort Sumter. My parents battled over anything. The following 1950s’ New York story depicts one of their classic brawls. It’s an excerpt from my new book, “I Hate the Dallas Cowboys: tales of a scrappy New… Read more »
Why at 60 do I remember my half birthday is tomorrow? I never forget. The reason is Uncle Norman. Mom had this thing with shoe stores. She always complained her feet hurt. We’d go in and out of Yorkville’s many shoe stores looking for the perfect comfortable shoe that she never found. Rory and I… Read more »
“Wonder Bread, again.” Dad threw his hands up. “Will you shut up!” Mom never turned from the stove. “You never bring food home I enjoy.” “You’re a liar. We eat friggin’ spaghetti six nights a week. If you came home seven nights a week, we’d never eat anything else.” Rory and I nodded our heads… Read more »
