July 17, 2008
Time to brighten up the blog with a funny story from Maloney about his childhood in Hoboken. Here's one from an email he sent me in early June:
Roy Haack and I were chums when we were kids. We had our big fight and fast became friends.
His mother, Loretta was a Councilperson on the City Council and held that position for two elections, I seem to remember. Loretta had a wooden leg, I don't know how she lost her leg and never bothered to ask. You didn't ask questions about people. It just was not done.
Roy's dad smoked great-smelling cigars and his grandmother made the best dumplings that I have ever had in my life. Yes, I am leading up to a story, just giving you some background for it.
One day Roy and I "borrowed" a cigar from his Dad without asking for it. We went down the cellar to smoke the thing. Guess we thought we were big shots. You know how it is said that 'The Lord works in strange ways?" Well here we were smoking this cigar,
trying is more like it, down in the cellar in Roy's parents' woodshed, more like a storage shed. Both of us were choking on the darn cigar, but we told each other it tasted good! Gotta keep up the big shot thing, you know. As we were smoking it Loretta's extra wooden leg fell off of the shelf in the shed. All we saw was the foot and the both of us ran out of that shed like the devil was after us and yes, we held onto the cigar. Scared is not the word both of us felt that day.
We buried the cigar in the back yard, just as you would bury a pet. No more cigar smoking after that experience.
3 comments:
Reading MALONEY'S sob story brought tears to my eyes...about him burying his cigar...and never smoking them again...I know he's not pulling your leg (or any wooden ones either). He has a memory like an elephant, and never forgets anything.
BUT I did one better than him. I bet he never sat in a car with 6 guys in the summer heat keeping the windows closed AND EVERYONE PUFFING AWAY...till ya could not see your hand in front of you, and until we turned green...AND NO, we did not bury the cigars, we flipped them into the street and watched the cars run over them.
Try to top that sob story, Maloney.
Fancy Schmancy for you Bob, we were to young for a car at that time. Sob story, never tell sob stories, especially to you, although you have a heart of gold.
Anonymous, FANCY SCHMANCY, you think? I was 16 when I got my first car, a 1941 Chevy Deluxe in mint shape...I paid $40.00 for it, 3 bucks for the plates, and $8 bucks for state insurance. That was in 1955. And I always got a parking spot in front of my house, 924 Garden Street. You always needed a licensed driver with you till you were 17.
THE CIGARS, WE GOT THEM FOR FREE. At Pete's candy store...poor Pete ...SORRY ABOUT THAT
That same car today with plates and insurance would cost you mega bucks. AHH the good old days in Hoboken (DID I MENTION THE GIRLS? They helped me buy gas for it, 40 cents a gallon OH MY GOD) I hope the gas prices don't go up.
We threw the finished cigars in the street. The cars ran them over...and the pidgeons ate the rest.
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