this first appeared here in this form back in 2007. someone actually clicked on it and read it last week. i had forgotten about it so i re-read it myself. i had a chuckle. perhaps you will too. there is some new stuff at the end. enjoy.
as dyslexic as i am it’s way too time consuming looking up words that any sane person can spell. most of the time i can’t even spell dsylexic. my mind locks and the crossed dyslexic wires fry some more synapses into tiny cinders into the early form of earwax. that’s it. it’s gotta be. where else does that crap come from? fried synapses equal earwax. so the more you drink or get loaded or the more dyslexic you are you have more earwax. where the hell else are the damn dead things gonna go? out your ass? nah, the ear canal is much closer.
just hanging out waiting for the great 07 road trip to begin. a drunken debacle in all likely hood. about time.
when i was younger i used to look like tom selleck or so some people said. frankly, i never saw it. now a days though i’ve been mistaken for leslie nielsen, a middled aged frank sinatra or just some mob hood. all of which have their moments of fun.
i was in tj with girlfriend the first time someone thought i was leslie. we were downtown in one of those mall stall things off the main drag. she was looking for a leather purse and dickering big time price wise. the guy says to me that i can afford it and just pay the money. i’m like, say what? he says sure you’re the actor leslie nielsen and you have lots of money. i just laughed and then he got pissed. oh well.
the most interesting time for the mistaken leslie id was in mainland china. yeah, go figure. on the great wall, outside beijing, just being dumb ass tourists. lots of folks out on the wall that day but most of them chinese tourists. i was getting lots of smiles and people wanted to shake my hand. yeah, sure the happy wandering american, glad handing everyone. lovely wall you folks have here. then this one guy wanted a picture to go along with the handshake. ok, why not? no ugly american bullshit here, my friend. then it’s more shaking of the hands and comments like oh, you are a great artist. bingo. the light goes on. leslie strikes again. so, of course not wanting to create some sort of bizarre international incident, in of all places on the great wall of china, i just keep smiling and posing for the odd photo here and there. to this day i’m sure my mug is up on some guy’s wall someplace in china and he tells his friends about the day, on the great wall, where he met the great american artist, leslie nielsen. go figure.
as for the middle age sinatra thing, unless the person is just a total whack job they know frank is dead. so it doesn’t get any really fun type stuff going behind it.
the mistaken mob hood is fun. i get off on that one. plus, people tend to leave you alone. which is fine by me. girlfriend and i went on a cruise this past december. after the first day i was known as the mob guy on board. people have a tendency to speak way to loud in public so if you keep even a half assed ear tuned to the passers by you hear lots of interesting shit. there were a large number of russians on board and i was ‘mr. macaroni’ to most of them. fun stuff and i was not about to rain on their parade. not me. then last week i was at a local market in the produce section getting a couple of things. all by myself. dressed in a flannel shirt a size or two too big. t shirt. sweatpants. white socks and very cheap plastic walmart flip flop type things. when i hear from behind me this mexican guy going on and on to his family in spanish. he’s going so damn fast i can’t pick up much of anything except for, italian and ‘la familia’. of course at that i turned around and the whole family is just standing there gawking at me. i gave them my best tony soprano squint and continued to check out the potatoes. the guy shut up.
see? i told you i was bored. so now you are as well. now everybody is happy.
music this morning provided by jimi hendrix, ‘the best of hendrix’, i like it because it’s got all my faves on it, in particular ‘little wing’, ‘bold as love’ and ‘the star spangled banner’.
we went out for a nice italian dinner this weekend. one of the chain places. we hadn’t been there before. the one where you can draw stuff on the paper table cloth. it was very nice and the food was pretty good. i had a nice veal marsala and portabella mushrooms with angel hair pasta. like i said, good.
i guess it started when we sat down as girlfriend goes, oh, you want to sit on this side so you can watch. yeah, i like to sit where i can watch. i don’t like surprises and i don’t like to rely on other people to pick up on shit going down that may or may not suck us into something awful. capice? so everything is fine. though we are getting looks and the staff is being overly nice. 3 or 4 people wanted to know if we wanted anything. no, we’re fine, the waiter is looking after us.
by the time the meal arrived the whispers were in the air. mob. mafia. it’s been awhile. but it’s part of my life, occasionaly. it can be annoying but at times fun. at any rate, when i went into the pasta, sans the spoon, and rolled up a nice tight clump in a nano second things got really interesting. the godfather. i’m like, jesus, folks i’m just an old douche bag italian guy. give it a rest. but, nah, i got into it. the busboys couldn’t help but sneak a look. i’d catch them and give them a thumbs up or wiggle my eyebrows, ala groucho. the workers had the place a buzz. by the time we had dessert and i got an after dinner drink, frangelica straight up, you would have thought al capone was in the joint. the frangelica was more like a glass of wine. the most i’ve ever seen. all in all a nice time. i had fun. the food was good enough so we will go back. i wonder what that will be like?
new stuff. to this day i still get looks and whispers about the sinatra thing. usually in las vegas. it’s amusing. some folks are like stunned with jaw dropping looks. i smile and keep on moving. vegas is also good for being mistaken for tony soprano as well. what can i say? years ago i was often mistaken for a cop. i wasn’t a cop but i never did fix their mistaken idea. i let it ride. same with tony soprano. it’s usually early in the morning and i’m by myself wandering through a casino trying to find some coffee. mostly it’s bored dealers or pit bosses. hey, tony soprano is in the house. like i said earlier people talk much to loud at times. i ignore them and keep on truckin’. it’s all about how you carry yourself and i have james gondolfini’s lumbering tony walk down. an expensive sport coat and a few other props it’s bada boom bada bing.
i was at an upscale bar in a beverly hills hotel. alone. the brown eyed girl was in the hospital there in the hills. i’d been at the bar for a while drinking and chatting with the bartender. he moved to the other end of the bar. a bus boy wandered in and almost crapped his pants. he tells the bartender, my god, there’s a mob guy at the bar. the bartender laughed. so did i. the bartender is like, no. he’s just some old italian guy. chill out.
during that time i was also frequenting a certain delicatessen near the hospital. often for breakfast and dinner. i was always treated very well and i tipped accordingly. one evening i’m having dinner and this guy comes in. the manager nods in my direction and the guy says, i have no idea who he is. i’m like ok. fine. interesting. a couple of days later it’s dinner again and another guy comes in. same thing thing. manager nods toward me. the guy says, he must be east coast. i don’t know why he’s here. then he leaves. ah, yes. speaking too loud in public. always interesting what you hear.
one of my favorite mistaken mob guy deals was another time in las vegas about a year ago. our room wasn’t ready so the brown eyed girl and i went into a bar on the casino floor to have a drink and wait for our room. we were at a table. the bartender served us i tipped him a few bucks and he went to the bar to talk with some guy. then he disappeared. we’re sipping our drinks when i see this guy coming up in from the casino. big guy. obviously italian. he’s in a hurry and he’s wearing a purple velour like sweatsuit with lots of gold chains around his neck. no shit. he got closer then realized i wasn’t who he was looking for or not who he was told to go look for. an abrupt about face and he was gone. never saw him again.
there are other times as well. i’m sure there will be more. i don’t have a problem with it. i get treated very nicely and left alone. fine with me.