Yeah, babies... thas right....up there is my new Facebook mafia name... scary ain't it?!?!I have to admit... I have always had a secret fantasy to be in the movie mafia.. not the real mafia - I am way too chicken s@#% and up standing for that - but the movie mafia - hell yeah.... But I want to be IN the mafia - not one of the pretty unassuming trophy side line wives, who has "no idea" where the money comes from or where her husband is... I want to be the Bonnie to his Clyde. I want in on the action and I want to call out the hits....I wanna feel sorry for all the poor punks who dare cross the line I draw on the concrete. I appreciate the value of a catchy one liner and respect the need for a good &%&$# expletive for emphasis!
I could watch Godfather I and II over and over and over again. And I did... many many times with my father.. and it never gets old. It sucks, now that I have small children, that I do not have the freedom to stop my day to pay respect and homage to a great man-scream brought on by a bed full of horse blood. I cannot say that I have the same affection for III - it loses me - but I'll stick around and suffer through for the sake of Andy Garcia....
When I lived in New York - everyone was in the mafia - every dark Italian looking man was in the mafia. I loved to eat in Little Italy and a stroll down the street could easily turn into a family against family shoot out in my fantasy mind. I took my parents down there one time to eat at this fabulous hole in the wall next to the greatest bakery ever and we sat in a booth that had a picture of Al Pacino sitting where my dad was sitting - not a planned moment, just a fun coincidence. We had many shots of ... something - too much liquor to remember - mostly because the waiter just kept bringing them and since he spoke very little English, we thought it rude to refuse!
My other great "mafia" New York story happened one day after work. I was in Queens - waiting for my bus to my apartment. I was standing in front of 2 different store fronts when all of a sudden, LOTS of men in dark suits come streaming out of the doors to the separate stores and headed to their late model Cadillacs parked along the street. Funny thing is... even though they were coming out of separate doors - they were talking to each other and continuing conversations - like they had just come from a common area in the back of these different stores. They nodded their goodbyes an VA-MOOSE.. they were gone - I was on the phone with my mom and I said "HOLY S#%@!! I think I just saw the mafia!!"
But alas... this southern white chick is as far away from an Italian Mafia life as a Chicken Fried Steak smothered in cream gravy is from Chicken Parmigiana smothered in Mama's homemade Italian sauce that has been slow simmering on the stove all day....
But a girl can dream.....
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