London in New York

“Live for nothing or die for something”
-John Rambo

Who am I?  “Say my name! Say my name! If no one is around you, you can say I love you.”

I repeat, who am I? Bro, this ain’t no “Existential Crisis” here.  I know what I mean and I mean what I say. So you think I have a god complex? Let me tell you something, when you are alone reading my words in the quiet of your home or out in the public domain on say an iPad, between you, me and the truth I am god!

So, what is my perspective? Simple.  Stand on the middle platform in Times Square, stretch arms wide and hold on to the “Third Rail” on both tracks so I can feel the electricity of dissent.

You want a piece of me? “Go ahead,  make my day” and let the first amendment be your guide. I don’t censor unless you are a spambot. But I warn you if you come with a pop gun or water pistol of an intellect you will be destroyed like one of RAMBO’s victims below.

So who am I? The way, the truth and the life? I am…I said. I am said I.  I am what you get when Bridge & Tunnel American with Spanish, Colombian, Austrian, German and Italian roots meets the school of hard knocks followed by the Ivy League. I have sat in conferences along side of titans of industry,  CEO’s, soldiers, Generals and I have worked as a Wall Street Lawyer, delivered newspapers, mopped floors and was even the deep fry guy at Arthur Treacher’s Fish & Chips. I paid my way through college on scholarship, work study and money saved from selling t-shirts and souvenirs at Madison Square Garden. There is not a job that I was ever unwilling to do to put a few bucks in my pocket. If we had migrant farm workers in New York City, I would have been one. My dream job? To be a crew member aboard the Bob Barker Sea Shepherd. I aspire to affect the human condition not to line my pockets or be well known or famous. I am the anti famous and that is fine with me. In the words of Jane Jacobs, “I do not know who this celebrity called Jane Jacobs is. It’s not me. You either do your work or you’re a celebrity; I’d rather do my work”

I am safely and securely ensconced in the truth of my convictions and the experience of life at all levels of society.  I care to see and understand things that most don’t and my “small talk” is the human condition, freedom, democracy and the right to challenge bad ideas, the supremely misinformed and the punch drunk fame whores who stand atop a pile of mediocrity proclaiming their short list of non-accomplishment. No matter how perfectly polished and painfully posed, I am not impressed even if Andy Warhol predicted your retarded social climb. You are still a clown to me. “This ain’t no party this ain’t no disco, this ain’t no fooling around.”

Are you sure? Hold steady, ready, aim fire! Pump me full of shells and watch as I stand here like Crazy Joe Gallo dining at Umberto’s Clam House on Mulberry Street in Little Italy, except I would be at Puglia’s instead,  laughing until your little pop gun is empty. Then at least I could get back to finishing my Pork Chops Pizzaiola with Linguine. If you are not too tired maybe you can pour me another glass of Opus 1 before you get out of my sight.

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