The Only Good Italian Restaurant

The Only Good Italian Restaurant

by Bill Russo

In my travels from Maine to Florida and on West through Texas to Arizona and California, I have found that there really is only one chain of Italian Restaurants worthy of the name.

It's a group of establishments carrying the interesting handle, "Joe's Pit".  There are just 83 'pits' in the 48 interlocking states of the nation, so you might not be able to find one near you - even if you look it up using its Paisan name: Buca di Beppo (loosely translated as the Pit of Joe).

Lucky for me, Joe likes South Florida, so there's one near me.  Alas there are none in New England, where I spend summers - so I wish my sister, who lives near Boston, would open up a real Italian restaurant.

She couldn't miss.  She's named Marie like 87 per cent of all Italian girls and she learned Sicilian and Italian cooking from our Nonna and Mama.

I'll try to talk her into opening up this summer.  You'll be able to come to dinner and have Pasta Lenticchie, Giant size ravioli as big as your hand - the way they are supposed to be, Lasagna so sweet you'll swear it was made with chianti (which it might have been!), and don't forget the Gi-Gis….they are little dough balls drenched in honey.  

We will call my sister's restaurant, Mariooch's Cucina.  Since she spends most of her summer in New Hampshire at the lake, this probably isn't going to happen.  

Next best thing?  Find a Joe's Pit (Buca di Beppo) near you.  If you live in Boston, the nearest one is Atlantic City.  But as of right now (mid-year 2020) just about everything is closed due to the virus.  But by July, it's a safe bet to assume the Pit will be open....both Joe's Pit and the gambling pits! 

Buona Fortuna - Good Luck! 

Pizza from Joe's Pit - Family Style

Bill Russo is a writer who spends winters in the tropics of Florida (near Miami) and summers on Cape Cod.  Bill has dozens of books and short stories on all major sites like Smashwords, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple, and More.  

Check out his audio dramatizations of his stories on Short Story Theater.  It's Free to Listen....here's the strange tale of a Native American young woman who had the most beautiful singing voice in the world, but who was so homely none of the braves would allow her in their wigwams - she did have one admirer, The Great Fish!  Listen for free.. https://www.spreaker.com/user/11578348/ah-soo-the-ugly-and-talented

Her Doppelganger Was A Cat!

by Bill Russo from the eerie, but true files..................................................

I have a strange tale to tell you. It's about a doppelganger and I vow that it's true. Not that finding your double is that hard. I found mine back in the 1970s in a city called Brockton, Mass. What makes this story so odd is that I found a homeless kitty and its "Human Doppelganger", also apparently homeless... No this was no witch that turned into a kitty or vice versa. It was a real person.

I first met the little Tortoise shell kitty shown in the photo, two years ago at the most unusual auto repair shop in Palm Beach County, FLA. It fronts one of the busiest roadways in South Florida, five lanes combined and almost always full of speeding cars. But the rear of the property graduates to something as rural as Arkansas, but with the unique charm of South Florida flora and fauna such as the palms of course, but also the Slash Pines, the Cypress and more, along with an endless variety of birds and animals.

The boldest and brightest peacock you have ever seen, around noon, each day strolls from a secret spot in the brush and wanders regally into the repair bays, in full display. His minions fawn over him and feed him his lunch, after-which he checks out the quality of the work being done to the cars, and then wanders back into the thicket.

A number of other birds and animals, including the Terry the Tortoise Shell kitty, also come to the garage to commune with the folk, scarf a little food, and then head back to the coolness of the shade trees.

Of all the creatures that bravely saunter into the shop, I love little Terry the best. When ever I come in for an oil change, new tires, or whatever, she seems to know I am around. She talks to me, rubs up against me and royally entertains me while I wait for my car to be attended to.

But today, Five-One-2020, she wasn't at the place we usually meet - a shallow basin that catches rain and usually holds it, even in the hot weather. I walked the entire parking lot, checking some two dozen vehicles looking for her, without success.

I started looking for Terry around 1:30 in the most gorgeous afternoon, in a place where every day is close to perfect. But this was even more perfect. It was about 82, yet there was a brisk, dry wind that gave the effect of a cleansing, and refreshing air bath. So it was not oppressive heat that was keeping her away....it was something else.

I asked the guys inside, "Have you seen the kitty today?" They said they had not, but assured me she was around somewhere. Then I saw her - or the human version of her.
A frail, tiny, old woman - shorter than a three drawer dresser walked towards me.

"I'm looking for the Tortoise shell cat." she said from a face that was shrunken and partly obscured by a mangled tousle of hair of various mixed shades of yellow, dirt, white, and gray.

"So am I, I replied."

I offered her one of the two chilled bottles of water that I had brought with me. She darted towards a grassy patch at the edge of the parking lot and found an empty plastic tub, that once held butter or margarine. She dumped the entire contents of the bottle into the container and set it near a fence post. She looked parched - like she really needed the water.

"Aren't you going to drink the water?" I asked.

"Later, she replied.

It was then that I noticed her eyes. They were not really eyes. At least not in the way we know eyes. She had eye-whites, but in the center of each where the pupil should have been, was nothing but a thick, round circle of what I can only describe as a build-up of dead, or infected cells that had turned what must once have been eye-pupils, to infected piles of 'pus'.

Worse yet was her clothing - or lack of it. She wore a soiled, well used, black trash bag for a dress, and draped pieces of broken trash bags around her shoulders, the way regular women wear shawls. More pieces of trash bag dangled from her arms, waving in the wind (the trash bag fragments, not her arms!)

Her speech was garbled and I was able to comprehend little more than half of what she said. I offered her my other bottle of water which she accepted and stowed in her trash bag dress.

The service manager shouted from the office door that my car was ready. Nervously I retrieved my keys, got in my car and drove off. As I left the parking lot I looked for Terry. Still not there! And neither was the lady with the eyes of pus!

-0- 

  

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Lyndon B. Johnson, the last U.S. President

Lyndon B. Johnson, the last U.S. President 

by Bill Russo

Regarding all the turmoil currently roiling Washington I read a meme on Facebook that said...

 "Welcome to the U.S. where we pretend our problems are created by 1 man and ignore the fact that both parties have been failing us 4 decades."

That hit a chord with me and I began to turn the pages of my mind of the last 40 years.  It seems like L B J, was the last 'real' President of the United States. Among other things, he brought about The Great Society, Medicare, and the Civil Rights Act of 1964. 

His only failing was that he could not win the war he inherited from Kennedy, the Viet Nam Conflict. When Kennedy came to office on a wave of hope, there were 1000 American advisors in N V M. 

By the time of his tragic assassination, he had deployed more than 20,000 American warriors to what by then had become more than a conflict, almost a full scale war. 

L B J thought we were in too deep to back off. It was an understandable, but debatable, position. Following LBJ we have had 9 presidents, 7 elected by the people and two appointed by the Electoral college despite losing the election.

For purposes of discussion only and with actual malice toward none, here's a rundown, a score card, if you will, of the NINE men who have lived in 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue since that day late in January 1969 when Lyndon B, moved back to Stonewall, Texas or someother ranch in some other Western town near his birth place. 

The list includes, in order, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush, Clinton, Bush two, Obama, and Trump. Debatably only the two Bushes and Barry Obama seem to have actually helped the country.

Reagan destroyed the unions and the transportation industry, Nixon broke our hearts with a single lie. Gerry Ford was like our crazy uncle, a nice guy, but not much on the ball.

Jimmy Carter was another 'loco tio', a good guy who we liked but unable to get any work done. Clinton was another crazy uncle type who you expected to get locked up for being a drunk and tusslin' with women who were not named Mrs. Cliinton. 

Barry turned out to be a real gentleman and lent grace to the office, even if he didn't really get anything done. (Yes I've heard of Obama care, but having been around the block many times, I can tell you that in 1964 we had better healthcare for workers and it did NOT COST US A DIME - it was paid for by our employers!)

My FB friend Laurie Champion changed my mind a bit on Barry when she said, "Yeah Obama helped us alright he brought all the Muslims, wrecked our health insurance and made it sky rocket in cost for those of us who had insurance we liked. Gave insurance to others that no one would accept anywhere. No thanks Obummer did not help anyone I know. He did away with the laws we had in place to stop non born citizens and Muslims from holding office. he did a lot of things that we are paying for right now. My parents also had what you refer to here: " I can tell you that in 1964 we had better healthcare for workers and it did NOT COST US A DIME " Those were the days before we had such a for profit medical field."

After reading Laurie's comments I did give Barry a failing grade in those areas and sentenced him to detention!

Now, onto number nine......

 Trump, the appointed CEO is still in office so I can't rate him. I hate him. But I also kind of like him. As a President, so far all I can say is, he had a very entertaining reality TV show called "I Will Fire Everybody", or something like that. I can't remember the actual name.

The First Supper, Post Pandemic

The First Supper, Post Pandemic

 written and drawn by Bill Russo (C) 2020

So parts of the county opened up today after 34 days of Cerveza Virus lockdown. And we called Mom and Dad to come over for a celebration. We had to wait a long time cause they had to come all the way around the mountain. I texted her, "Maw, where you at?" She replied, "I'll be comin round the mountain when I come. When I come."

Dick Curless Tombstone Every Mile

The 3 Faces in the Tree

The Tree of Three Faces

by Bill Russo

A Tree of 3 Faces, stands firmly rooted to a spot on the West Bank of a tiny pond we call Lake Clarke, in an unincorporated part of Lake Worth Beach, in Palm Beach County, So-Fla. 

A place of meditation, where one face sometimes smiles at visitors, it is frowning in this harrowing spring of 2020. I believe it is saddened by the 'Stay inside' orders promoted by the virus. I think it craves human contact, much like many of those who are confined inside their homes. 

Take heart paisans, as the 93 year old Queen said, "We'll meet again!"

In the face of the tree, I hope it is a smile you see,

for life, like the tree, is a mirror, and the face you put in, is the face that you'll see.

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Pictures and blog post (C) 2020 By Bill Russo 

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