Iannuccilli: Would I Get This Close Today?
Dr. Ed Iannuccilli, Columnist
Iannuccilli: Would I Get This Close Today?
Would I Get This Close Today?
When I was a kid, I never thought being too close to someone might cause a problem. As I contemplate today’s confinement issue, I am reminded of two happenings.
My Dad’s self-proclaimed uncle, Africa, was a distant cousin. I encountered him when he visited my aunts on an occasional Sunday. He wore a tattered, black overcoat that dropped to the top of his muddy, wrinkled black boots. He waddled like a duck, the toes of his boots spread wide, his lower legs flailing in rhythm, his wrinkled hands nearly touching the ground. When he sat, the coat touched the floor.
GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLAST“I gave him that coat years ago,” said Dad.
He beckoned me with a crooked finger. “Viene qua.” As I approached, he burbled, “You know me? Eh? You like- a me?’
“Yes. You’re Uncle Africa. Yes, I like you.”
He smiled with damaged, tobacco-stained teeth through an uncombed, uncut moustache. I arched away, my feet in place. He reached into his vest pocket with two fingers and pulled out a silver dollar, a coin so big and shiny that I could not resist; smell, shaggy or not, I plucked it from his fingers, turned, and bolted.
As years passed, I’ve thought of Uncle Africa and his immigrant spirit, sad that I did not know more about him. Who was he? Where was his family? Where was his home in Italy? What did he do there? Why did he come here? Why a silver dollar?
Uncle Africa is long gone, and so are my silver dollars.
And then there was my grandmother’s eccentric friend, Francesco (Frangeesk). He wore a dark blue, three-piece pinstriped suit with high, black, weathered boots laced to the top. His shirt collar was a sweaty yellow. His beady eyes centered a wrinkled face fronted by a beaked nose. His laugh spilled from his sawed-off, crooked yellow teeth. His garbled dialect was coated with a smell of wine. Most of the time, I succeeded in avoiding him, but he tickled my curiosity one day.
His walk to visit grandmother started with a stop at a local bar. His entertainment started when he beckoned me. Curious, I inched closer. As I approached, he opened his jacket. In the right side vest pocket, he carried a watch and an attractive pearl handled knife attached to a chain attached to a vest button. He was holding a tiny sparrow. It moved.
He released the bird. Startled, I jumped back, not realizing that the bird’s foot was tied to a string which was also tied to a button on his vest. The bird flew straight up only to hit the end of the tethered string, “boink,” and snap back, “twang,” flapping his wings, going nowhere. However, the bird was luckier than I; he flew through an open window when released. Though frightened, I was comforted.
I never knew what getting too close might bring. But today, I do, and we should.
Unlike that little kid, we have been warned.