Fuzzy's South
They go by different names: Switala, Walsh, Ingram, Darin, Neisser, but make no mistake...they are full of Fazzolari blood, brashness and attitude and over the last few weeks, they have filled my heart with love and life, and celebration when it comes to Oh Brother!
Little story here:
About twenty years ago I was working in Baltimore. This was fun for a number of reasons. 1). I was single. (Although being married to my beautiful wife is a million times better) 2). I was hanging around with a group of buddies from college and 3). Fuzzy South was alive with laughter.
In Easter of 1991...I went to Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Lenny's for the day. Word on the street is that I mistakenly ate a dozen eggs for breakfast when I assumed that the platter of eggs meant for everyone was simply prepared for me. Simple mistake. Could happen to anyone. I don't remember much of a struggle finishing them.
After an expertly made dinner and laughter that made my stomach ache (it wasn't the eggs), I headed to my car for the trip back to my apartment. There was a light snow falling. The driveway sloped down away from the house. I started my Cougar to warm it up and headed back into the house. When I stepped back out into the driveway I screamed in horror as my car was slowly, very slowly making its way backwards down the drive towards a huge oak tree. I must have knocked it out of park!
I tore off down the driveway, slipping, falling and running as fast as a slightly overweight man, carrying a dozen eggs and four pounds of ham, and a bushel of zuchini and tomatoes could go (That was awesome. I dream about that dish sometimes).
Anyhow, I got to the car as it suddenly...came to a full stop????....just about a foot from the base of that tree. I pulled open the door to see my cousin John parked in the driver's seat, crouched to the floor, working the pedal and laughing his ass off until he nearly pissed himself.
"You're (freak)ing eyes were like milk saucers!" He wailed.
So, you see, there is little separation! Notes that I've received from the wonderful people in this family...Steve, Karen, Sally, Mary Ann, Larry (sneaky funny dude)...and on and on...even the sons and daughters and son-in laws of the cousins we didn't see near enough! Dave, Carolyn, Amy....I can't even possibly name everyone!
Beautiful. Wonderful. Celebration of life.
I know that they won't stop promoting this book until I am sitting down at a table with them, eating all of their food, after being on a D.C. or Baltimore tv program.
And you know what...it'll be the perfect place for that day. Fuzzy South.
Besides, I'm still trying to figure out a way to get John back.
Funny Bastards.
Little story here:
About twenty years ago I was working in Baltimore. This was fun for a number of reasons. 1). I was single. (Although being married to my beautiful wife is a million times better) 2). I was hanging around with a group of buddies from college and 3). Fuzzy South was alive with laughter.
In Easter of 1991...I went to Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Lenny's for the day. Word on the street is that I mistakenly ate a dozen eggs for breakfast when I assumed that the platter of eggs meant for everyone was simply prepared for me. Simple mistake. Could happen to anyone. I don't remember much of a struggle finishing them.
After an expertly made dinner and laughter that made my stomach ache (it wasn't the eggs), I headed to my car for the trip back to my apartment. There was a light snow falling. The driveway sloped down away from the house. I started my Cougar to warm it up and headed back into the house. When I stepped back out into the driveway I screamed in horror as my car was slowly, very slowly making its way backwards down the drive towards a huge oak tree. I must have knocked it out of park!
I tore off down the driveway, slipping, falling and running as fast as a slightly overweight man, carrying a dozen eggs and four pounds of ham, and a bushel of zuchini and tomatoes could go (That was awesome. I dream about that dish sometimes).
Anyhow, I got to the car as it suddenly...came to a full stop????....just about a foot from the base of that tree. I pulled open the door to see my cousin John parked in the driver's seat, crouched to the floor, working the pedal and laughing his ass off until he nearly pissed himself.
"You're (freak)ing eyes were like milk saucers!" He wailed.
So, you see, there is little separation! Notes that I've received from the wonderful people in this family...Steve, Karen, Sally, Mary Ann, Larry (sneaky funny dude)...and on and on...even the sons and daughters and son-in laws of the cousins we didn't see near enough! Dave, Carolyn, Amy....I can't even possibly name everyone!
Beautiful. Wonderful. Celebration of life.
I know that they won't stop promoting this book until I am sitting down at a table with them, eating all of their food, after being on a D.C. or Baltimore tv program.
And you know what...it'll be the perfect place for that day. Fuzzy South.
Besides, I'm still trying to figure out a way to get John back.
Funny Bastards.
Comments
OXOX
Bobby, Sally & Geno