Who Says I Can’t Double Park?

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Chapter 10

Zeke turned onto Walnut Ave. Cars lined both sides of the street. Walnut Ave was barely passible for two cars heading in opposite directions.

“What are going to do, Zeke? There’s no parking places,” said Mickey his arms and hands were holding Tony Gallino’s package with a jaws of life grip.

Zeke gave a slight turn of the head toward Mickey. What are talking about? There’s one up ahead by Nicky Zuma’s piece of crap.”

Mickey bent forward toward the dash, “Help me out, Zeke. I don’t see it.”

“It’s right in from of Nonna’s. Nicky should know by now the fire hydrant is reserved for me. Nonna is not his nonna. You know what I mean?”

“I think so, Zeke. What are going to do about it?” asked Mickey.

“Watch this. I accomplish two things at once. One, I get a preferred parking space on Walnut Ave. Two, I teach Nicky not to mess with me. Understand?”

“No? But you’re the brains. I got my hands full. I can’t think about anything else than protecting this package,” said Mickey.

Zeke slowed his Chevy and crept toward Nicky Zuma’s piece of crap. Slowly, he pulled even with Nicky’s piece of crap.

Mickey peeked out his window. “Brilliant Zeke. I couldn’t fit a credit card between the cars. You didn’t even ding him. You taught Nicky a good lesson. Especially if he has to go somewhere like his shift which starts in thirty minutes.”

“Tough noogies for Nicky. Let’s go, Mickey. Take the package with you. Nonna’s going to have hold it to put her inner eye to use,” said Zeke.

“I got a problem, Zeke,” said Mickey.

Zeke was out of the car. He looked in at Mickey staring at Nicky’s piece of crap, “What’s the problem, Mickey?”

“I, I can’t open my door without whacking Nicky’s car. I can’t get out. What am I going to do?” asked Mickey.

Zeke took a deep breath. He bent over and stuck his head into the car. He said, “Mickey, hand me the package. I’ll hold it while you crawl over and come out my door.”

Mickey handed the package to Zeke, then slapped the side of his head, “Why didn’t I think of that? It’s like you can see things, Zeke, nobody else can see.”

A car behind the boys honked and the driver stuck his head out the window and said, “You know you’re double parking. You can’t do that on this street.”

Both boys flipped off the driver who pulled out from behind the boys and sped past them.

Zeke turned to Mickey, “Some people got a lot of nerve. You could tell he doesn’t live around here. If he did, he knows that double parking is legal.”

“Yah, even triple parking if a party is going on,” said Mickey.

The boys climbed on top of the hood of Nicky Zuma’s piece of crap, jumped once to put a dent in the hood, then jumped off. A moment later, the boys were inside the three-story house and knocking on Nonna’s door.

“What chu want with me?” said Nonna.

“It’s me, Zeke. I need to talk with you,”

“You sure it’s you? You got ID?” asked Nonna.

“I have my driver’s license and my union card,” said Zeke.

“I want three pieces of ID. I no fool. Any fool can make an ID. I used to do it all the time when I was younger so I could go in the bars.”

“Wait a second, Nonna,” said Mickey.

“I’m a not going to wait a second or even two seconds. If you don’t got ID, I don’t want to see you.”

“I got it. I got it. They all say I am Zeke Pratti,” said Zeke without looking for any ID.

“Okay, I’m a going let you in. But I’m not going to let that Palitroni in. I can’t trust the Palitroni’s. They no good for six generations.”

“You let him in earlier today, Nonna. He’s one of the good Palitroni’s,” said Zeke.

“Let me think about it. Okay, I thought about it. He can come in if he takes off his shoes. I don’t want no dirt tracked in by a Palitroni. They got diseases and I don’t have time for an STD.”

Zeke looked at Mickey and whispered, “Give me the package. I’ll hold it. Take off your shoes.”

“My socks got holes in them, Zeke,” said Mickey.

“That’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” said Mickey.

“His shoes are off, Nonna.”

“Okay, you boys come in, but you tell Palitroni I’m a good with a knife.”

What advice will Nonna give the boys? What will Nicky Zuma think about his car?

Reclaim the Sense of Adventure

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As we mature, we become more likely to shut down our sense of adventure. We are more likely to settle for small dreams. We are more likely to make excuses such as, “I don’t have the time,” or “I’m getting too old for that.” What if we turned the little boy or girl within us loose and reclaimed our sense of adventure. We might dare to dream big dreams. We might dare to take a life changing risk and not worry about the outcome because the little boy or girl knows he or she can handle it. Get inspired with this Vimeo video.


<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/40004005″>Make It Count</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/caseyneistat”>Casey Neistat</a> on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

Quote for Today – November 24, 2017

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No one has a right to sit down and feel hopeless. There is too much work to do. – Dorothy Day

Grateful for All

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HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Practicing gratefulness changes us. It opens our eyes and hearts to the small and large gifts life offers us at every moment. We can be grateful for the sun, run, or snow. We can be grateful for a friend, job, or shower. We can be grateful for our morning coffee, ballgames won, or a family member. The list is endless. In the following video see how this woman decided to place gratitude into the center of her life.


<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/121724954″>Lori's story – Gratitude Grows.</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/user612630″>hailey bartholomew</a> on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

Quote for Today – November 23, 2017

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HAPPY THANKSGIVING

When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself. – Tecumseh

I Should’ve Ordered A Philly Cheese Steak

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Chapter 9

Zeke was driving, Mickey was in the passenger seat. His arms wrapped around a package, ten inches by six inches by four inches. Zeke glanced over, “Any address on the package?” asked Zeke.

Mickey looked at it. “All the address says is P.O 191, 273 Court Street, Brockton, Mass 02302. That’s all. Can I shake it?”

“You crazy, Mickey. What if it is a bomb from one of Tony’s competitors?”

Mickey’s eyes widened as big as saucers. He bent over and pressed his chest against the package. “Slow down. If we crash we’re going be blown up. Why didn’t you tell me there was a bomb in the package. We’re going to die, Zeke. I can feel it. It’s going to hurt like hell when it happens,” said Mickey.

“I didn’t say there was a bomb in there, Mickey. I said maybe there’s a bomb in there. I don’t think there is a bomb in there because Tony said to hold the package for him until he was ready to collect it.”

Mickey breathed a sigh of relief. He straightened up. He said, “I could use a beer after that close call. You know how they say your life flashes in front of you when you’re going to die. Mine flashed in front of me and I saw the white light too. I guess I’m not ready to die.”

Zeke didn’t want to travel down that path, “It was a close call. Let’s go over to Marzelli’s and grab a sub. If he doesn’t sell beers, we’ll take our subs to go and pick up a six pack.”

“You got all the good ideas, Zeke. Your brain works faster than a forklift,” said Mickey putting his hear to the package. He added, “I don’t hear no ticking.  So, I think you are right, it’s not a bomb. You think we should take the package by Nonna after we have our sub and beer? Maybe she can use her inner eye to tell us what’s in it.”

Zeke turned left onto Warren Ave. “This is the Puerto Rican neighborhood. Know how you can tell?”

“How?” asked Mickey.

“Just look out the window. That’s all you see is Puerto Ricans,” said Zeke.

“I know a Puerto Rican, Julio. He’s a nice guy. He took me to a chicken fight one time and I won ten bucks. Julio taught me how to pick out a tough chicken,” said Mickey.

“How come I never met Julio? You never told me about the chicken fights,” said Zeke.

“The cops raided it the next night. Julio got arrested and since he had priors he’s doing five to ten at Cedar Junction. It’s too bad. Think about it, no body complains when they kill chicken and eat it. I call that murder. That’s different than assault. Besides, Julio was not doing the assaulting. It was the chickens doing the assaulting,” said Mickey.

Zeke tried to respond. His brain refused to send a signal to his mouth. He nodded his head and pointed to Marzelli’s. It was packed. He pulled into his reserved spot. The one in front of the fire hydrant. He got out of the car. Mickey got out still clutching the package. The boys walked into Marzelli’s ordered a large meatball sub and a large Philly cheese steak sub and two beers. They took their orders and sat in the only empty booth. Zeke sat facing the door. Mickey placed the package on the seat next to him and faced the window.

“This meatball sub is good. It’s really good. Marzelli should franchise. How’s the Philly cheese steak. Maybe I shoulda got that. I haven’t had one since I went to the Pats game with you last September,” said Mickey.

“The best one I ever had. I like the idea of going back to Nonna. Maybe she’s done with making a curse. I was thinking what if there is a million dollars in this package and we’re carrying it around,” said Zeke.

“Can I peek?” asked Mickey.

Will the boys succumb to the temptation to look inside the package? What will Nonna advise them to do?

Love Heals, Renews, And Recreates

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Love comes to us from many sources. Love transforms us, heals us, renews us, and recreates us. Love lifts us up and all is well. In this one minute YouTube video you will be inspired by the unconditional love dogs bring to dying patients.

 

Quote for Today – November 22, 2017

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Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. Bernard Baruch

Schmucks Do His Dirty Work

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Chapter 8

Zeke and Mickey sat in Zeke’s Chevy parked on Court Street in Brockton, across from Security Postal. Next to Security postal was a Goodwill drop off store, next to the Goodwill store a liquor store, and on the other side of Security postal was a boarded-up sub shop. The buildings, were stuck together since some time early in the last century and looked like they were never cleaned.

“This place gives me the creepies. Why would Tony, who’s got so much dough, pick a place like this for his mail pickup.”

“That’s because he never goes here. He sends schmucks like you and me,” said Zeke.

“What do you think is in the box. Do you think the cops are watching? What about the guy on NCIS? What’s his name?” asked Mickey.

Zeke took a sip of Dunkin Donuts coffee along with a bite of a raspberry jelly donut, mixed the donut and coffee inside his mouth, chewed somewhat then swallowed. When he finished, he said, “I saw this rerun of CSI. I think it was CSI Vegas. No, it was CSI Phoenix. No, it was CSI Chicago.”

“No, I know the one you are thinking about, is it CSI Jersey? I know it’s either that one or CSI Worcester,” said Mickey.

“They never made a CSI Worcester. Half the country can’t say the name right,” said Zeke.

“Then it’s to be CSI Jersey,” said Mickey. He continued, “There was this guy and this other guy and they was going to break into a lab and torch the whole thing to destroy the evidence.”

Zeke interrupted Mickey, “Mickey, what’s this show got to do with picking up a box inside Security Mail?”

A confused look came over Mickey. He fell silent for a moment, then he said, “Nothing. I just like that show. I was thinking we could learn something from it.”

Zeke said, “I’ll have to remember to watch the rerun. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go in and get the box and I’ll keep the car running in case we have to make a quick getaway.”

“That doesn’t sound fair, Zeke. We should flip a coin to see who gets to go in,” complained Mickey,

“Can’t,” said Zeke.

“Why,” said Mickey.

“Because I only have insurance coverage for me on this car. And, I don’t have you on the policy. You’d be in big trouble if you got in an accident,” said Zeke.

Mickey thought about for a second, he scratched his groin, “Thanks for thinking about me, Zeke. What’s the number of the box?”

“It’s on the key. Here it is. It’s 1 6 1,” said Zeke handing the key to Mickey.

Mickey took the key and looked at it, “What if it’s 1 9 1? It could be. Look? If I put the key into the wrong mailbox, somebody might think I’m up to something and call the cops.”

Zeke looked at the key. He flipped it over several times, “Why’d he have to go and get a number that can be two numbers? The way I figure it we got only a chance in a hundred to picking the right box. When I get nervous, I like to eat. I wish the sub shop wasn’t closed.”

Mickey said, “I got an idea, Zeke.”

“What?” said Mickey.

“We both go in. Since you’re the brains, you go to counter and asked whoever is behind the counter if they know where you can find a sub shop because you’re hungry for a sub. I go and try my key in 1 6 1 and if it doesn’t work I’ll try it in 1 6 2 and keep going until I get to 1 9 1.”

Zeke said, “This is a good idea, Mickey. I got one little tweak I gotta make. You try 1 6 1 first and if it doesn’t work you try 1 9 1. You skip everything in between.”

“You sure, Zeke?” asked Mickey, a worried look on his face.

“I’m sure,” said Zeke.

“I got another question, Zeke?”

“What is it, Mickey?” asked Zeke.

“When you ask about a sub shop, ask if they know one that makes good meatball subs,” said Mickey.

“Okay,” said Zeke.

The boys got out of the car and crossed the street. Zeke walked in first, Mickey followed. There was guy behind the counter sorting mail. Mickey walked to the mailboxes. Zeke went to the counter.

“You know where I can get a good meatball sub?” asked Zeke.

“Do I look like Bobby Flay on the Food Channel?” snapped the guy behind the counter.

“You bear a remarkable resemblance if you had hair and real teeth. But I am being respectful and I would like some respect in return,” answered Zeke.

“I don’t respect myself, why should I respect you?” said the guy behind the counter.

Zeke looked over his shoulder, Mickey was trying to jam the key into 1 6 1. Zeke turned back to the guy behind the counter, “For one reason you should respect me, I don’t pee on your door when you are closed. Your door smells like hell.”

“It’s the damn homeless people. They think my door is a urinal. You’re not a bad guy. I’ll tell you the best sub shop in the city, it’s Marzelli’s over on Warren Ave. Don’t go past the 1200 block, that’s where all the Puerto Rican’s live. They don’t know a good sub from a bad hamburger. Know what I mean?”

Zeke looked over his shoulder, he saw Mickey pulling a box out of 1 9 1. “I know what you mean. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, get the hell out of here.”

What’s in the box? Will Zeke and Mickey go to Marzelli’s for a sub?

Life Is Change – Create Good

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Life is change. There is nothing we can do to prevent change from happening. It is as much a fact of life as the sun rising and setting. Each moment we are challenged to adjust and adapt to change. When we are open to change, we become its master. Change no longer drags us  kicking and screaming like a small child into a new reality. We move into our new reality and create good. Get inspired with the following YouTube video on change.

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