Why I am nicknamed THE SCARF

THE BLACK SCARF"

This is an allegory, um, or an anecdote, or perhaps I ll name it something else as I get further into the dictionary. My brother in law Leo, stupid bastard that he is, would probably call it an antidote, but it s simply a true story of survival.

I wear a Black Scarf, all the time, winter and summer, night and day, rain or shine;

It is my good luck charm. One time I was in our bathroom, not a calm place, as you got the cat trying to poop in the sink or the laundry hamper, anyplace but his litter box, you got my wife Marie bleaching the entire area, and you got NANA’ s personal stuff everywhere, all sorts of remedies and ointments, one time I actually washed my Hair with hemorrhoid cream (my hair came out thinner but with a nice sheen to it).

So I m trying to rush thru taking a leak, Marie is yelling she gotta go, the cat is puking in the tub, nana’s got the volume up on her latest talking book (forcing me to wonder if Pirates have invaded my landlocked domain), and in the confusion, I flush and my Scarf gets pulled into the toilet. I felt the gnarled fingers of death encircle me; but when pulled, the Scarf came out, it gave it up, it saved my life.

Maria came in and did her business, Nana enjoyed her adventures on the high seas, and I had survived, because of A Scarf.

I was also wearing the Black Scarf when the De Vito brothers, Vito and Guido, tried to whack me. We were never friendly; I mean come on Vito De Vito? Didn’t’ his parents have any imagination, didn’t’ they have one of those name books? Is my name Gamberony Gamberony?

Use your brain, read a book or something. And then they top that with Guido. What the De Vito brothers usually did was come up to your car, pop you in the driver’s window, you lurch forward, and the horn blares for like an hour or until somebody realizes that the annoying car alarm is your head imbedded in the wheel. This day, they were pushing a cart with Italian hot dogs, chestnuts, stromboli, pretzels, (if the hit was a Summer hit, they pushed a snow cone cart, a Spring hit, they pushed clothing hand trucks, they had their own Unique Style)

anyway, my Scarf was hanging out of my car door and they stepped on it, I realized what was up, so I simply drove over them and their cart; I escaped, they visited the nearest vet (HMO’S are not part of their equation), and the neighborhood homeless ate quite well for weeks.

The Scarf And I Are Blood. I Wear It Always