"Young Al Capone" by William and John Balsamo

Al Capone, long portrayed as the King of Chicago, grew up in Brooklyn, New York. It was there that he made his beginning in the local crime syndicates. At the time, there were two "mobs", one Irish, known as the White Hand; and a second, up and coming "mob" of Italians, known as the "Black Hand." These two groups would battle for control of the 60 odd piers in the Borough of Brooklyn in the days before Prohibition came in. When the Volstead Act came, the piers would become less of an attraction than booze.

The authors, William and John Balsamo, have a wealth of information on the subject of both Al Capone, as well as the beginnings of Organized Crime in Brooklyn. Their father's brother was Batista Balsamo. He was born in Sicily in 1868, and although he is pictured here as a "low key gangster extraordinaire",(those are the author's words) he is considered by some to have been the first "Godfather" of Brooklyn.

Salvatore and Domenico Balsamo, Batista's sons, were the author's Grand Uncle and Father, respectively. So, these guys have some pretty good stories to relate.

August 1917 was a month so hot, that I still remember my Uncle Irving telling me about sleeping in Coney Island and sometimes on Brighton Beach. The trip was 5 cents, and the relief was priceless. 278 people and 272 horses perished that month. In my old neighborhood, people slept along Ocean Parkway, some on the benches, others on the ground. In this muggy and steamy month, and year, Al Capone would receive both the nickname, and the scars behind the ubiquitous moniker "Scarface."

It happened at the Harvard Inn on Surf Avenue in Coney Island. Al Capone walked into the club, which was owned by his boss, Frank Torrio, and noticed a group sitting near the rear doors. This caused extra work for the waitress, as well as arouse the suspicions of Capone. The only reason he could think of for their being seated so close to the entrance was that they either expected, or would be responsible for, some sort of violence. It didn't take long to happen.

Capone, always on the look out for a woman, lost no time in offending the sister of one Frank Gallucio, who jumped on Capone, trying to cut his throat. Instead, he created a legend. Scarface.

The incident caused a "sit down" to be held between the two men. "Lucky" Luciano and Frankie Yale, the first of the two "modern" mobsters, and the bosses of both parties involved, mitigated the dispute. Luciano "lent" $1,500 to Gallucio for him to pay "damages" to Capone. It was also a way of putting Gallucio in his "pocket", as the man now owed him a large sum of money. This was fortunate for Gallucio, as it guaranteed that the "bosses" would find him a lucrative position so that he could pay them back.

The author's take the reader on a very deliberate, step by step journey in the career of one of the most notorious gangsters ever known. With his bulging eye and withering stare, he was quite formidable. At least until the IRS got a hold of him.

The book follows Capone's rise from the streets of Brooklyn, to his "exile", and new home in Chicago. In Brooklyn, before Prohibition, there were three primary ways of making money in the "mob." They were gambling, loan sharking in support of the gambling, and prostitution. Al Capone was involved in each of these vices as he climbed the ladder, rung by rung, to his eventual success.

The authors follow Capone as he makes the transition from Brooklyn to Chicago. A situation occurred in which it was best than Capone leave Brooklyn for awhile, and he needed to go far. So, he "removed" himself to Chicago. And once there, the rest is, as they say, history. But this book, which chronicles Capone's early years, his roots and beginnings in Brooklyn, is a story often overlooked. You will be amazed at the mentality that drove the hoodlum of the early 20th century, and then be doubly amazed when you realize that this same mentality drives the gang wars of today!

In the words of Jean Baptiste Alphonse Karr, "The more things change, the more they remain the same." This book is proof of that assertion.

Trains

Trains, they've always been there, on the periphery of my life, whistling in the night, chugging through my past and present, fueling my imagination. I've watched them, and counted the cars as they lumbered past, some over a mile long! I've never minded waiting for a freight train to pass. It's an opportunity to let my imagination go.

Ever since I was a kid, I've walked the tracks, flattened coins on the rails, collected spikes, felt the rush of the air as the train passed within inches of me, rattling the earth beneath my feet as they did. My reaction has always been the same, I stand silently, wrapped in the fading sound, lost in the vibrations emanating from the rails, and up through my body, like some surreal electrical charge.

What is this fascination with trains? I'm not the only one. There are museums, train rides, songs about great train wrecks, and the stories of the hobo's who rode the rails during the Great Depression. These two photos are of some trains a few miles from our house. The Caboose is my favorite.

This is a typical caboose, an icon of American railroads. It's a home on wheels, wheels that are bound to the tracks, making them seem permanent, a fixture in our collective minds. This is home to the signalman as he travels at the rear of the train, the last person to see where the train has been. It's a backwards journey, you can't see anything in front of you. Just a fading landscape, growing smaller and smaller as the wheels go clickity clack, clickity clack, on their journey across America.

And sometimes, when I'm waiting for the train to pass, I find myself wishing I were a bit younger. I just might hop on board...

"The Wreck of the William Brown" by Tom Koch

In the early spring of 1841, just 71 years before the RMS Titanic would be sunk by an iceberg while crossing the Atlantic, another, similar tragedy occurred. The William Brown, a passenger vessel bound for Philadelphia, with her sails rigged for full speed, hit an ice field and sank. The Brown, like the later Titanic, was woefully unprepared for the disaster, which resulted in an unnecessary loss of life. But, in spite of these similarities, there was one big difference in these two events.

For the most part, aboard the Titanic, chivalry was evident at every turn, as crew members, and passengers alike, held fast to the code of the sea. Women and children were first, and husbands parted with great honor from their spouses, giving up their own chance at survival so that others might live. As I said, this story is quite different.

It is the story of people, gripped in fear, and the lengths with which they will go, in order to save themselves, at the expense of others. When the ship, loaded with newly bound immigrants for America, was about to sink, the longboat, and another small craft, were both launched. The one with the captain aboard was adequately manned and loaded to it's near capacity. The other boat, a longboat with no rudder to steer with, was overcrowded and staffed with the first mate and some deck hands. The passengers consisted of able bodied men, as well as women and children.

The captain left them in the charge of the first mate, with orders to "do what must be done" in order to save his boat. The captain then set course for Newfoundland, leaving the smaller stricken vessel to it's fate. And what a fate it was!

This chart shows the close proximity in which the Titanic would sink 71 years later, almost to the day, and only 8 and a half miles apart. And in the ensuing years, nothing had changed much in the way of passenger safety,and traveling the North Atlantic in early spring was still a treacherous journey, at best. Though much had changed regarding the way men and women interacted, thanks largely to the Victorian Era, this journey took place before that, and so had a much different conclusion.

During the very first night adrift, in full view of the other passengers, crew members, acting upon the "orders" of the first mate, selected men to throw overboard into the frigid waters in an effort to "lighten the load." When two women cried out that they "didn't know if we can go on without our dear brother", they were summarily tossed in after the hapless man. All the while, the other passengers tried to "look small", and "attract no notice", lest they be next.

When the morning came and a ship appeared on the horizon, the killing continued, with at least two more men being thrown overboard. This was at a time when, not only was rescue imminent, but the boat was stable and in no danger.

A French Court found the actions justifiable, while the American Court found the actions of the crew, and notably the first mate, to be unworthy of seamen. He was tried in Philadelphia for Murder Upon the High Seas.

This book was a chilling look at, not only a failed social order, but a justice system more concerned with the profits of international trade than passenger safety. Their lack of oversight and initiative would come back to haunt us all, in the form of the Titanic tragedy, 71 years and 8 miles later.

Monopoly, Jesus and Islam

This card was from my Mom's old Monopoly set, the original one, copyright 1936, look at it closely. It promises me that I can use this card, within the confines of the game, of course, to get out of jail without paying any further penalty. It is forthright, and honest in touting it's limited powers.


This card was given to me at a rest stop in South Carolina the other day. I suppose alot of folks shop for religion at rest stops, though I'm not sure why. Anyway, pay attention to the writing. Now, I know what the card is supposed to mean, but being the type who likes to parse words, this one gives me a problem. It says that if I meet you and forget you, I lose nothing. True enough. It then goes on to say that when I die, at which point I presumably lose all, and then meet Jesus, and then turn away from him, I will lose everything. Now, maybe it's just me, but, in theory, having already died there is not much else that I would have to lose. I think I will stick with my Mom's card for the present.

Now, you all know this is tongue in cheek, and not meant to offend anybody, either Christian, or Monopolists. But, considering the recent events in the Middle East, with specific regards to the violence attending any humorists depictions of Prophets, as well as the burning of a Quran, I do feel the need to say thank you for your indulgence, as well as having a sense a humor.

"Whatever Works" with Evan Rachel Wood, Larry David, and Ed Begley, Jr.

Genius writing, along with genius acting, make for a wonderful film experience in this 2009 Woody Allen comedy. This is one of his best films ever, stepping back behind the camera to write and direct, which is what he has always done best. And using Larry David in the role which Mr. Allen had originally intended for Zero Mostel, makes the movie all that much better.(The script was begun with Mostel in mind, but shelved after Mr. Mostel's death in 1977.)

The character of Boris Yellinkoff, played by Larry David, is the main vehicle for this story, and employing the old technique of having him talk directly to the audience, even as the "live" action of the film continues to roll, makes this a very comical, and unusual, film experience.

Boris begins his tale of Doom and Gloom, meeting daily with his friends for coffee, after having failed at a suicide attempt, and losing his wife to divorce. He has given up on everything. He is a bitter old man. That is, until he comes home one evening and finds Melodie St. Ann Celestine, played by Evan Rachel Wood, sitting in the alley by his stairwell.

Boris is kind of like many middle aged men, ranting at the changes in society, and bemoaning the lost years of his earlier life. He is cynical to a fault, and finds himself at odds with those who cannot see the truth, as defined by Boris. Basically, he believes in nothing. We know all of this because Boris never stops talking, even to the audience, as he narrates the story.

Here is a typical quote, "My father committed suicide because the morning newspapers depressed him. And could you blame him? With the horror, and corruption, and ignorance, and poverty, and genocide, and AIDS, and global warming, and terrorism, and the family value morons, and the gun morons. "The horror," Kurtz said at the end of Heart of Darkness; "the horror." Lucky Kurtz didn't have the Times delivered in the jungle."

Prior to the arrival of Melodie in his life, Boris had been a Professor of Quantum Mechanics at Columbia University. He was an expert in the "string" theory. At one point he attempted suicide by jumping out the window of his apartment, only to land on the front lobby canopy, resulting in a permanent limp. He then divorces his wife, quits his job, gives up their beautiful apartment, and takes a back alley dive as his residence.

So, when Melodie Ann shows up, he is immediately skeptical of her motives, and her story. But, a human being is a human being, so Boris takes her in, setting off an intellectual dilemma as he begins to turn her world views into his own cynical interpretation of life. Will that cynicism take root? Or will young Melodie's air of confidence serve to help them both find their individual ways?

When Melodie's eccentric and strange mother, Marietta, played by Patricia Clarkson, shows up, things get even stranger. And Boris' friends can't believe the change in Boris.

But complications arise, as they always do, and Boris, formerly a difficult and misunderstood man, seems to change. I won't tell you what happens between him and Melodie. You need to watch the film to find out. But here are two lines, including the last one from the film, that I hope will inspire you to see this movie.

Boris Yellnikoff: Love, despite what they tell you, does not conquer all, nor does it even usually last. In the end the romantic aspirations of our youth are reduced to, whatever works.

Boris Yellnikoff: See, I'm the only one who sees the whole picture. That's what they mean by genius.

"Secret Lives of the First Ladies" by Cormac O'Brien

A very unusual collection of stories about the First Ladies, told in chronological order, this book is a terrific insight into the history that we never learned in school. The job of being First Lady is an arduous task, and at times, thankless. But at other times it can be a most rewarding position that allows some input into the affairs, and history, of our country.

Beginning with Martha Washington, who, as the first "First Lady", set the tone for all of the First Ladies to come, this book makes you realize that the story of the "Father of Our Country", without any mention of Martha,is one that is only half told. And that truth is evident throughout this book.

Originally Martha Washington was referred to as "Lady" Washington, a title that would define all the First Ladies until Dolley Madison, who had held sway over Washington during the Presidency of not only her own husband, James Madison, but also that of Thomas Jefferson as well. (He was widowed.) When she passed away in 1849 she was lauded as the nation's "First" Lady, and that designation became the basis for today's title.

And so it goes with the rest of this book, all the way through to Michelle Obama. These women were really quite remarkable, especially the earlier First Ladies, who often lacked the formal education and schooling of their husbands. Each woman who has occupied the position has contributed something admirable, or noteworthy, to our collective history. And so often, these contributions have been overlooked.

Our earliest President's had some of the most interesting wives, women who were sometimes raised on the frontier, as well as women who were the product of great wealth.

The author does a credible job at both enlightening the reader on the accomplishments, as well as the eccentricties, of this select group. Of course the book is filled with all kinds of trivia, which makes it all a bit more fun, but the real story is the role that these women have played in shaping this slightly crazy and unique country that we call home.

"Joe Gould's Secret" with Ian Holm and Stanley Tucci

This is the wonderful story of both Joe Gould (Ian Holm) and Joseph Mitchell (Stanley Tucci). While the former was a noted street person of New York's Greenwich Village back in it's real Bohemian days, the latter was a former newspaper reporter for the Morning World, the Herald Tribune, and the World-Telegram, eventually landing at The New Yorker as a feature writer, with an emphasis on eccentric people in New York City. But, beneath their superficial differences, these two men were both really the same.

Joe Gould, with his superior intellect and intelligence, did not fit in with the world in which he lived. He was educated, and on occassion, could be most charming. But his usual modus operandi was to roam about the city, ranting and raving about the "aural/oral History" that he was writing. This history was to be comprised of the everyday conversations of the people with which Mr. Gould found himself interacting with during the course of his daily rounds to his usual haunts. He claimed that these conversations held more insight into the human condition than all the history books combined. And, in a way, he was right. A quick look at Studs Terkel's books, especially "Working" and "The Good War", which are both "oral histories", lends creedence to this.

Mr. Gould's play on words notwithstanding, the "aural/oral" histories are both pretty much in the same genre. One is an overheard conversation (aural), while the other is a person speaking, either in answer to a question posed, or just telling their own story (oral). Both are valid, and insightful forms of history, and highly enjoyable for the reader.

Joseph Mitchell also felt disconnected from the world into which he was born. Born to Averette and Elizabeth Mitchell, who were cotton and tobacco traders in North Carolina, and whose income would help support the younger Mitchell throughout his life, even while working at The New Yorker, he never felt at home there. After moving to New York in the 1920's, he married photographer Therese Jacobsen in 1931, and they would remain together for the rest of their lives. They had two daughters, Nora and Elizabeth. Mrs. Mitchell passed away in 1980,and Mr. Mitchell passed away in 1996.

The film follows Mr. Mitchell as he embarks on a journey through New York in the 1940's, a time during which Allen Ginsberg was writing "Howl", and the McCourt Brothers were beginning their individual migrations to America. It was a time of coffee houses and poetry readings, beatniks and jazz.

Fascinated by Joe Gould's intellect, as well as his way of making a living, Mr. Mitchell follows him to every party, poetry reading and failed interview. Along the way Mr. Gould solicits money for "The Joe Gould Fund", which is supposed to be a contribution towards the publication of his "Aural History", but which everyone knows is just money for Mr. Gould to eat and drink with.

The real meat of this movie is in the similarities that draw these two vastly different men together. Eventually, after trying to get a look at the written portions of the "Aural History", Mr. Mitchell finds that there is no such thing. It is all a product of Mr. Gould's slightly skewed imagination. But Mr. Mitchell keeps the secret, and the legend, alive, going so far as to help others as they continue to search for the history, which he knows does not exist.

With standout performances by both Ian Holms' as Joe Gould, and Stanley Tucci as Joseph Mitchell, this film captures the essence of a very special place and time in New York. The costume designs, sets and scenery are all superb, creating a flawless background to this unique, and true sory.

David Streitfeld, a writer for the Washington Post, quoted Mr. Mitchell in Newsday, August 27th, 1992 as having said of his strange obsession with Mr. Gould; "You pick someone so close that, in fact, you are writing about yourself. Joe Gould had to leave home because he didn't fit in, the same way I had to leave home because I didn't fit in. Talking to Joe Gould all those years, he became me in a way, if you see what I mean."

I do, Mr. Mitchell, and I believe that so many others feel the same way. Remember that Thomas Wolfe, another great writer from North Carolina, once wrote, "You Can't Go Home Again." And, in an uncanny sense of irony, this film serves to drive that point home.