The Pope Of Greenwich Village has always been one of my favorite films. Mickey Rourke and Eric Roberts turn in fantastic performances. Daryl hannah has never been more beautiful, and Burt Young. Burt fucking Young. It’s also particularly resonant to me because it’s set in Greenwich Village in 1984. I moved to the East Village in 1986 but spent plenty of time in the Village proper. That was a world that I lived in.
At the time I had a buddy named George who lived on Mulberry Street. He aspired to a life of criminality and I wasn’t opposed to some shady dealings either. We used to drink at The Spring Lounge, which is featured in the film, and pick up what odd jobs we could. Ironically enough for two wannabe hoodlums on Mulberry Street we wound up working for a Jewish gangster. That’s a different story though. Stories, really.
Now that I’m older and a solid citizen living in the suburbs I enjoy the film immensely. It brings back some great memories. Noticing that it was on last night I stayed up well past my bedtime to watch it and I noticed something for the first time that bothered me no end. Mickey’s character, Paulie, refers to the safecracker as being “stunatz”. That’s wrong; it’s not a word. You refer to someone who is a little dense as “stunad”. If you have empty pockets you say you have “ungotz”. Knowing Mickey a little bit I’m sure he did his research and hung out in the neighborhood, and I’m sure he heard the words and accidentally conflated them. It’s a little thing but it drove me nuts and I’m going to hate hearing him say it every time I watch the movie.
Walking home tonight I ran into a Rabbi who lives in my building. He noted that I was smiling (something I hadn’t realized) and asked me why. I told him that tomorrow was my daughter’s first birthday party and I had been thinking about it. He took my hand and held it while sincerely congratulating me; then he said two things that I’ll never forget. The first was: “Ah, a year of fatherhood”. I never would have thought of it in those terms, and doing so caused me to do some self-examination. The second thing he said was: “And what has she taught you?”. What a great question.
Welcoming me back to New York and expressing gratitude that I am working here.
My wife owns and operates a successful PR firm. She’s the boss and can get pretty intense under pressure. When I’m not working I’m the most laid back guy in the world but once I’m in production I turn into General Patton. The home life is going to be interesting for the next few months.
30+ let’s do this shit
35 in December.
Fucking pups. 44.
Ha ha fuckers
Oh my god. You’re all BABIES. 50 here. FIVE OHHHHHH.
Born in 1975. Do the math kids.
Thank Buddha for a late birthday.
45 but still think and sometimes act like I’m 17.