The Red Ferrari

by Pops McGonigle
loosely based on a story by H.E. Bates
Somewhere down da chain of in-laws der's a couple who have been in da news lately, so I'm gonna tell der story. The loverly Leslie Lacrimosa was da wife of Lee Lacrimosa. Lee worked as a luffa tester at the Procter and Gamble Specialties plant in Mehoopany. Leslie was a homemaker, but every once in a while she got bored wid dat and took a part time job or two. Lee developed an extra-curricular interest in Rhonda Rondazzo. Rhonda had been a star hockey player at Mehoopany Prep School mostly because she engaged in extra practice wid da coach Jack Spratt. Dey would stay after practice and kick da balls around fer a while. After graduating from Prep Rhonda became an insurance adjustor and specialized in complicated body work cases. Her career rose rapidly. She ran into Lee quite literally in the Procter and Gamble Employee parking lot and so as dey say a relationship developed on da car and da carnal level. Lee was drivin' a DaeWoo Tosca, but after da insurance check came from Rhonda's office, Lee was able to upgrade slightly to a nice red Ferrari. Rhonda continued ta drive her Honda Accordian. Leslie got suspicious of Lee when he kept gettin' cell phone calls during Deal or No Deal which dey like ta watch tagedder. Lee told Leslie dat der was an emergency down at da plant and dat he had ta check da luffas on Sadderday morning. Da next day Leslie followed Lee and saw his Ferrari parked outside a da Rondazzo Insurance Adjusting Agency which, unfortunately, had a picture uv Rhonda on da sign outside and Leslie remembered dat she had seen Lee with Rhonda several times before. She got so angry dat she took Lee's Ferrari. She had a set of keys fer it and drove it off inta da parkin lot behind Leahy Hall at da U where she proceded ta demolish Lee's car wid a tired iron. She left her car, da DaeWoo Tosca in front a da Rondazzo Insurance Adjusting Agency. When Lee walked out and saw her car he knew dat his days were numbered and Leslie filed fer divorce da next day. Lee lost his lucrative job as a luffa tester and da day he was ta collect his final paycheck, Rhonda ran over him wid her Honda and broke both his legs cause she had ta pay da bill fer da Ferrari and da rumor is dat Leslie and Lee are back together again, but wid crutches.
73's from Pops

Well, I got back ta Scranton from visiting my cousin Random McGonigle in Chicago. He was suffering wid da Big C and hadda have da chemo terapy, and according ta his last report when he called me da udder day, dey said dat he was going back into da readmission which was a good ting.
Dis all an da incident at da airport got me tinkin again about da four last tings and even do da lovely wife Helen aka da Hellcat, cooked a curry chicken fer dinner, I don't tink dat it was dat dat got me into a strange dream when I slept. In dis dream I died and went to heaven. When I got to the Pearly Gates, Saint Peter told me dat new rules were in effect due ta de advances in education on earth. In order to gain admittance, a prospecting Heavenly Soul must answer three questions:
1. Name two days of the week that begin with "T."
2. How many seconds are in a year? .
3. What is God's first name?

I thought for a few minutes and answered .....
"1. Da two days udda week dat begin with "T" are Today and Tomorrow."
"2. Dere are 12 seconds in a year."
"3. God has two first names, and they are Andy and Howard."
Saint Peter said, "OK, I'll buy Today and Tomorrow, even though it's not the answer I expected, so your answer is correct. But how did you get 12 seconds in a year and why did you ever think that God's first name was either Andy or Howard?"
I responded, "Well, January 2nd, February 2nd, March 2nd, etc." "OK, I give," said Saint Peter, "but what about the God's first name stuff?"
I said, "Well, from da song ... Andy walks with me, Andy talks with me, Andy tells me I am his own ....., da prayer ... Ar Fadder, who art in Heaven, Howard be thy name ..."

Saint Peter let me in widout another word. I must say dat in my dream, da heavenly banquet was quite nice and da super burritos were even bedder dan da one's down at da newly opened Taco Bandido. 73's
from Pops.

Well, tings are always changin in da church and da same is true uv ar parish St. Mary's in da Greenwood. Our recent pastor Father Vince has moved onto higher pastures and last week we got our first glimpse a da new Pastor, Father Gabriel Gasioso, S.P.Q.R. He's one a deese new-fangled new order priests. The initials stand for somethin like de Society fer da Prevention of Quitting Religion or sumtin like dat. His first sermon was pretty dramatic with him shouting and punchin die air with his fists and hands. I later learned that dis was not a style a preachin' but it was a disease dat he suffered from. It was called Jean Claude Van Dam Syndrum. He kept talkin about teamwork and how der was no I in team. I heard somebody whisper unner der breat dat der was a me in team and somebody else said dat der was an i in irony. He talked about how da life a da parish was like a game a golf. We had ta hit it down da straight and narrow and avoid hittin da woods or da ruff. He den produced a list a da parish and said to test da will a da parishioners he was gointa draft people fer da cleanin a da church each week. Well, ya'll never guess whose name came up first. The lovely wife Helen, aka the Hellcat, had worked at the pierogi making on Sadurday and she was tired so she said: You go. You never do nuttin fer da church. Well, I tried ta avoid da woods in polishing da pews, but dat was hard ta do, and I got tired a starin at the green carpet when I was doin da vacuuming, but I turned red when I found out dat Father Gabby, as he liked ta be called, was out playin golf while I was cleanin da church. Well, dat night I had one a my mystical visions. Dis time it was widout da benefit of hot chili peppers. Father Gabby was in da Church and da devil appeared ta him and said that he was gonna play a game of miniature golf fer his soul. Father Gabby kept hittin the ball inta da pews, but he lifted his eyes in prayer and hit one miraculous shot dat landed in da hole. Da Devil stamped his foot and went right tru da floorboards. 73s from Pops.

The Early Verse of Pops McGonigle
Poet Laureate of Moosic
(self-proclaimed) No members of the Borough Council were bribed for this honor and no animals were harmed.

The Bells of Moosic

O BELLS that ring, O bells that swing
Above the coalminers' wilderness,
Till from that reddened tunnel-line spring
The Union seed to cheer and bless,
What are your gathered nuggets oh sick ?
O Alarm bells ! Fire House bells !
O school bells of Moosic !

O bells that crash, O bells that clash
Above the chimney-crowded plain,
On wall and tower your voices dash,
But never with the old refrain;
In K mart and temple gone all sick !
Ye dangle bells ! Ye jangle bells !
Ye wretched bells of Moosic !

O bells that die, so far, so nigh,
Come back once more across the road;
Not with the zealot's furious cry,
Not with the Ford's Focus' load;
Come with the Gilette razor no nick,
O Alarm bells ! Fire House bells !
O school bells of Moosic !

Well tings have been gettin worse insteada bedder. Da Hellcat, aka, my loverly wife Helen, did not cook dinner de udder night but instead went out fer a long walk. She said when she left ya can make yerself a TV dinner. Well, it been a while since I did dat. I got da microwve ta work once so I figured I could do it again. I tink I cooked a potato in da microwave once, but da Hellcat hadda tell me ta poke holes in da potato. Well as I was eatin the TV dinner Whitney Houston came on da radio singing * The Greatest Love of All."

I decided long ago, never to walk in anyone's shadows
If I fail, if I succeed
At least I live as I believe
No matter what they take from me
They can't take away my dignity
Because the greatest love of all
Is happening to me
I found the greatest love of all
Inside of me
The greatest love of all
Is easy to achieve
Learning to love yourself
It is the greatest love of all


I was so sad dat night when I fell asleep in my sprated bed, I had another one a dem mystic vision. I saw a man dressed in black in along black coat and he was wearing dose piche nez glasses dat da English used ta wear. And he said ta me Pops ya seem ta be lacking in confidence.
Shall I tell you where the men are who believe most in themselves? For I can tell you. I know of men who believe in themselves more colossaly than Napoleon or Caesar. I know where flames the fixed star of certainty and success. I can guide you to the thrones of the Super-men. The men who really believe in themselves are all in lunatic asylums.

If you consulted your business experience instead of your ugly individualistic philosophy, you would know that believing in himself is one of the commonest signs of a rotter. Actors who can't act believe in themselves, and debtors who won't pay. It would be much truer to say that a man will certainly fail, because he believes in himself. Complete self-confidence is not merely a sin; complete self-confidence is a weakness. Believing utterly in oneself is a hysterical and superstitious belief.
And Now I give ya some a my free marriage advice:
"Love means loving the unlovable - or it is no virtue at all."
"A man imagines a happy marriage as a marriage of love; even if he makes fun of marriages that are without love, or feels sorry for lovers who are without marriage."
"Women are the only realists; their whole object in life is to pit their realism against the extravagant, excessive, and occasionally drunken idealism of men."
"The whole pleasure of marriage is that it is a perpetual crisis."
"A good man's work is effected by doing what he does, a woman's by being what she is."
"Women have a thirst for order and beauty as for something physical; there is a strange female power of hating ugliness and waste as good men can only hate sin and bad men virtue."
"Marriage is a duel to the death which no man of honour should decline."
"The first two facts which a healthy boy or girl feels about sex are these: first that it is beautiful and then that it is dangerous."
"I have little doubt that when St. George had killed the dragon he was heartily afraid of the princess."
Den he disappeared in a puff a smoke and I woke up and felt a lot better.

Well, I just got back from da funeral ov an old friend, Marion Lukaszevski, nee Kondrovitch. She and I went ta St. Mary's of the Greenwood grammar school tagedder and den she went off ta college ta study ta be a librarian and a research specialist and when she came back from school at Penn State she settled down n got a job wid da county library system and married Johnny Lukaszevski. She lived a quiet life der in da library, except fer de occasional rowdy student or somebody playing der hip hap music too loud on da Wakeman. She would go up ta dem and den put her index finger over her lips and say SHOOOOOOOSH! really loud and she would usually scare dem inta quietude. Whever I would go over ta da library ta spend some time wid her during her coffee and doughnuts breaks, if I started ta talk too loud, shee would give me da SHOOOOOSH. Johnnie was an auto repair man who ventally ran his own shop upon da Main Avenue on da West Side. It was called Johnnie's Auto Repair. I used ta like ta go over der ta talk ta Johnnie when my car was often bein repaired. Der's nuttin' quite like da smell a benizine n paint tinner and car paint wid da taste a Johnnie's mysterious brew he called coffee. Well, Johnnie died tragically about ten years ago when da big auto jack/lift carrying a Plymouth Duster whose brakes he was workin on fell and crushed him. Marian was heartbroken and she sold da business and moved outta da house on da West Side and sold it eventually n den moved inta one a dem convenience apartments over at da Lutterwood. She retired from da library after a few years and den volunteered fer da research at da col mine museum or waddever dey call it. Her death, too, was tragic. She was drivin along Birney Avenue late at night in a blindin rainstorm and tryin ta read da letters a da license plate a da black Volvo in fronta her. She was obsessed by da vanity plates and she hadda collection ov all da plates she had seen over da years and she wrote dem down on dose library catalog cards dat are pretty well gone now cause a da computers. Da vanity plate was RSJD, which stood fer Robert Shapiro Juris Doctor, da famous lawyer. Tragically da Moosic Ambulace company had just been activated onna call at da Birney Plaza and as dey turned inta da plaza wid sirens blazing, Atty Robert's old instinct kicked in and he stopped suddenly wid de tention ov chasing de ambulance, but Marion was followin too close or too fast n plowed right inta his back end fatally. Marion would prabaly not like me talkin about her like dis. I can almost hear her goin SHOOOOOSH! behind me right now.