MULBERRY STREET

JULIUS:  What’s that, Grammy?

GRAMMY:  A photo of Mulberry Street.

JULIUS:  Like in the book?

GRAMMY:  Better than the book.

JULIUS:  Wow!  Look at all the people.

GRAMMY:  Yeah.  People weren’t afraid to go out in those days.  See that guy?  He had a bathtub on his fire escape and made his own wine.  Used to let all us kids stomp the grapes.  Until the cops busted his tub because he wouldn’t pay them graft.

JULIUS:  What’s graft?

GRAMMY:  That’s what you pay the cops to make them go away.  And see that store?  You could go in with a nickel and come out with a bag full of candy.  Until the mob busted up the place when Mr. Fantalaro refused to pay protection.

JULIUS:  What’s protection?

GRAMMY:  That’s what you pay the mob to make them go away.  And there’s Viola Di’Odorio.  She had a singing chicken.  Until Angelo Prado shot it for dinner one night.  Yep.  Those sure were the days. (sigh) You know, I think it’s time you had an allowance.

JULIUS:  What’s an allowance?

GRAMMY:  That’s what you pay little boys to make them go away.  Now go buy something and leave me to my memories.

Photo: Souce: 
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CRUSHED

TYPHUS:  Look what I got at Goodwill.  Gotta look sharp if I’m gonna be an entrepreneur.

GRAMMY:  A new suit and a big word.  You’re off to a good start.  So what’s your new business?

TYPHUS:  Pot.

GRAMMY:  Pot?

TYPHUS:  Yeah.  I found this book.  Just fell outta the sky, like it was meant for me.

GRAMMY:  Oh, Lord. Y ou’re gonna be a dope dealer?

TYPHUS:  I’m gonna be a rope dealer.  I did some research.  You can make hemp from pot.  And you can make rope outta hemp.  And if you want hemp here in America, you gotta go to Canada.  I’m gonna corner the market.

GRAMMY:  You’re gonna go to jail.  You have to go to Canada because it’s illegal to make it here.

TYPHUS:  Making rope is illegal?

GRAMMY:  If it’s made of hemp.

TYPHUS:  Well, that’s dumb.

GRAMMY:  Yep.  That’s your government for you.  They think we’re all gonna start smoking rope.  Turn into a bunch of rope fiends.

TYPHUS:  But I already bought the plants.

GRAMMY:  Well, I can’t let you be a drug dealer, boy.  Bring me the plants and I’ll burn the evidence. And don’t forget to bring the rolling papers.

Photo: Source

HATS

ME:  So, do you like my new hat, Grammy?

GRAMMY:  No.

ME:  No?  What do you mean, ‘no?’

GRAMMY:  I mean I don’t like your new hat.  What the hell else could I mean?

ME:  Well, why don’t you like it?  What’s wrong with it?

GRAMMY:  What’s wrong with it?  You look like a little girl in her Sunday bonnet.  All you need now are a pair of patent leather shoes and white gloves.  Grab your Bible and it’s off to church you go.  Oh, wait.  You don’t go to church.

ME:  You’re not funny, Grammy.  And I happen to like it.

GRAMMY:  Yeah, well, you like your ex, too.  I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.

ME:  (glancing in mirror)  Does it really look like a little girl’s hat?

GRAMMY:  No.  It looks like a little girl’s hat from the sixties.  The early sixties.

ME: ( tossing hat on couch)  Oh, you’re right.  This doesn’t suit me at all.  And who even wears hats anymore, anyway?

GRAMMY:  (putting hat on)  Well, on the right person, at the right angle, it could look pretty damn good.

Photo:  Tom Robinson Photography

MARIJUANA

ME:  What happened Friday, Grammy?  I knocked, but there was no answer.

GRAMMY:  And you didn’t break in?  I’m a hundred years old.  I could have been dead!

ME:  Well, if you were, there wouldn’t have been anything I could do.

GRAMMY:  So you left me here to rot for the weekend?

ME:  I figured you had gone out for a while.  You do have that friend at the old folks’ home.  So what did happen?

GRAMMY:  Oh, I was up all night on that internet thingy, then slept all day.  So what did you do, since you couldn’t hang around here?

ME:  I bought Julius a book.  See?

GRAMMY:  It’s Just a Plant: A Child’s Guide to Marijuana?  You’re kidding me?

ME:  Marijuana is a fact of life, Grammy.  He has to learn about it sooner or later.

GRAMMY:  You won’t teach him about God or Santa Claus, but marijuana is a-ok?

ME:  Marijuana is real.  God and Santa Claus are . . . .  Hey!  Give that back!

GRAMMY:  (tossing book out window)  You want it?  Go get it.  And when you can’t get back in, it’s not because I’m dead.  It’s because I don’t open my door to idiots.

BOOKCARVING

GRAMMY:  Barbara!  What the hell did your son do?

ME:  What is it now, Grammy?

GRAMMY:  I don’t know what the hell it is now, but it was my Dickens collection.

ME:  He carved a book?

GRAMMY:  He carved a whole set of books.  My Dickens collection!

ME:  It looks like a bonsai tree.

GRAMMY:  Banzei is a yell, not a tree, Barbara.  It’s like Geronimo.

ME:  What?  Geronimo was a Native American.

GRAMMY:  I know that, dimbulb, and I’ll bet he never jumped out of an airplane, but it’s what people yell when they jump out of airplanes. And when they make a mad dash charge at you, they yell banzai!  Haven’t you ever seen a movie?

ME:  That’s a totally different word, Grammy.  It’s spelled . . . .

GRAMMY:  I don’t care how you spell the damn thing.  I want my Dickens back!

ME:  You know, Grammy, I’ll bet we could sell that.  It’s that good.

GRAMMY:  Chopped up books?

ME:  It’s a piece of art, Grammy.  I think Julius is an artistic genius.

GRAMMY:  Yeah.  Only a genius would cut up a collection of first edition Dickens.  (sigh)  It’s like talking to the damn wall.

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EVOLUTION

GRAMMY:  Where are you off to?

ME:  PTA meeting.  It’s our yearly debate over Darwin.  Evolution or no evolution.

GRAMMY:  And let me guess.  You’re on the evolution side?

ME:  Of course.  All you have to do is look around you.  It’s pretty obvious.

GRAMMY:  And you don’t suppose that’s God twisting and tweaking, making things better?

ME:  Grammy, how can you believe that?

GRAMMY:  Because it makes more sense than your damn big bang theory.  Science says you can’t make something from nothing. So if we believe that, then where did that first bit of matter come from, huh? That bit that supposedly started it all?  I’ll tell you where it came from.  It came from God.

ME:  Sorry, Grammy. I’m not getting into this now.

GRAMMY:  Because you know you’re wrong.

ME:  No.  Because I have to deal with the people at school who think like you do.

GRAMMY:  Well, go ahead.  Just keep in mind what happened the last time you said there was no God.

ME:  What?

GRAMMY:  This time, you don’t have a car to crush, Barbara.  This time, it just might be you.

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PERSPECTIVE

GRAMMY:  Ah, there’s nothing like New England in the winter.  Isn’t that a beautiful sight?  There’s nothing prettier than new-fallen snow.

ME:  What?

GRAMMY:  What do you mean ‘what?’  I said there’s nothing like New England in the winter.  You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to understand that.

ME:  But you’ve always hated winter.  I remember growing up, all you ever did was complain about the cold and snow and ice.

GRAMMY:  Well, who wouldn’t complain?  Do you know how many damn hours I spent shoveling the crap?  I’ll bet I’ve lifted at least twenty tons of snow in my lifetime.  And how many times did I nearly kill myself driving in the slush and ice just to make it to that lousy minimum wage job I had?  And let’s not forget all the hours I spent dragging you around on that sled of yours.

ME:  Well, that’s my point, Grammy.  You’ve always hated winter, now you’re sitting here admiring its beauty?

GRAMMY:  Yep.  Because now I don’t have to do any of that crap.  Now I get to look out and enjoy it.  It’s all about perspective, Barbara.  It’s all about perspective.

Photo Charlie H.

MERMAIDS

GRAMMY:  So, this is your room, huh?

JULIUS:  Uh, huh.

GRAMMY:  Manly.  I guess you like mermaids.

JULIUS:  Uh, huh.  Did you know mermaids can sing underwater?

GRAMMY:  Oh, yeah?  What do they sing?

JULIUS:  They sing songs for sailors.  But they don’t let the sailors see them.

GRAMMY:  And do they sell sea shells by the sea shore?

JULIUS:  What?

GRAMMY:  Nothing.  Why don’t they let the sailors see them?  You’d think they’d like a little company now and then.

JULIUS:  They don’t want anyone to know they’re there, Grammy.

GRAMMY:  Then why the hell do they sing at all?

JULIUS:  To lure the sailors near the rocks.  So they’ll crash and sink to the bottom of the sea.

GRAMMY:  Ha!  Sadistic little suckers, aren’t they.

JULIUS:  What’s sa . . . sadistic?

GRAMMY:  Oh, it just means they like to be mean for fun.

JULIUS:  Mermaids aren’t mean, Grammy.  They just make the sailors crash so they won’t catch dolphins in their tuna nets.  I’m going to be a mermaid when I grow up.

GRAMMY:  Lord.  Another bleeding-heart liberal is born.

Photo Maura Wolfson-Foster

ESTATE PLANNING

GRAMMY:  What the hell are they doing out there?

ME:  I don’t know.  Alfie said it was something Japanese.

GRAMMY:  Lord, I thought the boy would toughen up with Typhus around.  Instead, he’s making Typhus as weird as he is.  And why the hell is Alfie out there with them?

ME:  They’re creative types, Grammy.  You have to figure things like this will happen when they get together.

GRAMMY:  I don’t have to figure anything but who I’m leaving my money to.  And, let me tell you, none of you are too high on my list right now.

ME:  What?

GRAMMY:  You heard me.  I spent sixty-five years busting my butt, and if I live to be 120, I’ll still never spend everything I have.  You think I want to leave all that to Moe, Larry and Curly out there, so they can spend their lives playing dress-up?

ME:  Well, actually, I’d think you’d want to leave it to me.

GRAMMY:  Oh right.  So you can give it to that lazy ex of yours?  Think again.  (sigh)   Now I know why people leave their fortunes to their pets.

Photo: Kozaburo Tamamura

JOB COUNSELING

GRAMMY:  What’s wrong, Typhus?  That medal not shiny enough for you?

TYPHUS:  They only gave it to me because you made a fuss.

GRAMMY:  Hey, you deserved it.  You saved a hundred year-old woman from drowning in her own apartment.

TYPHUS:  You know, Grammy, I been thinkin’.

GRAMMY:  About what.

TYPHUS:  About me.  How I been wastin’ my life.  I’m tired of bein’ a low-life.  I want to be somebody.

GRAMMY:  So who do you want to be?

ME:  I don’t know.  A bigshot.

GRAMMY:  Well, what do you already know how to do?

TYPHUS:  I can draw.

GRAMMY:  Forget drawing.  Artists only become famous after they die.  You don’t want to wait that long.

TYPHUS:  But that’s all I know how to do.

GRAMMY:   Right.  Think, boy!  What do you do best?

TYPHUS:  Lie, cheat and steal, but those won’t get me anywhere.

GRAMMY:  Of course they will.  Haven’t you heard of politics? Y ou get to lie, cheat and steal you way to the top.  And you’ll get a huge salary for doing it.

TYPHUS:  (brightening)  Right!  I didn’t even think of that.

GRAMMY:  Not a problem.  Thinking isn’t one of the qualifications.

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WATER PROBLEM

ME:  Oh my God!  What happened, Grammy?

GRAMMY:  That damn idiot upstairs left his water running again.  He leaves it on for the cat whenever he goes away.

ME:  Did you call the landlord?

GRAMMY:  What the hell for?  He hasn't shown his face around here in fifty-two years.

ME:  Well, someone has to get up there and shut the water off before the whole ceiling caves in.  I’ll call the Fire Department.

GRAMMY:  Don’t bother.  Typhus is handling it.

ME:  Typhus?  What can he do?

GRAMMY:  He’s a juvenile delinquent, Barbara.  He’s been breaking and entering since he was twelve.

ME:  So you sent him off to commit a crime?

GRAMMY:  He was here, and it’s what he does.

ME:  Grammy, he could go to jail!

GRAMMY:  Jail, schmail.  He’s doing what the damn Fire Department would do, except he's doing it for free and he isn't destroying any property.  If you ask me, he’s doing the city a service by saving our tax dollars.  Now shut up and take this umbrella.

ME:  Why?

GRAMMY:  Typhus is a second story man.  He said it’ll take him at least fifteen minutes to shimmy up the drain pipe.

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VACATION PHOTOS

GRAMMY:  So, you never said how your vacation went.  Did you and art boy have a good time?

ME:  We did, Grammy.  We spent some time on the beach.

We did some rock climbing.  Alfie was horrible at it, but at least he tried.

We also got in some deep sea fishing.  Alfie caught a marlin, and Grammy, you wouldn’t believe the size of that thing.

Then we did some sight seeing and spent some time with the locals.












And the night life, Grammy?  You should have seen those clubs.  Me an Alfie actually learned to break dance.

GRAMMY:  What about the casinos?

ME:  What about them?

GRAMMY:  You were in the Bahamas, Barbara.  Are you telling me you didn’t hit one casino?

ME:  I was in the Bahamas, Grammy.  If I want to gamble, I’ll go down to Green’s.

GRAMMY:  Why the hell would you go there?

ME:  Come on, Grammy.  Everyone knows he has a mini casino in his back room.  The produce market is just a front.

GRAMMY:  Really?

ME:  Really.

GRAMMY:  Well, the pictures were nice.  Now I think I'll go buy me some apples.

Photo:  Tom Robinson Photography
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