I’ve already submitted a significant chunk of my story on the home page — a kind of how I got to where I am now, and a bit about what my plans are for this endeavor. But, here, I will provide some earlier backstory and a few extra details. 

I was born in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. If you’ve never heard of the place, it was quite a unique slice of America — wall-to-wall Italians, except for my Irish father and his two half-Irish sons.

Right across the street was New Utrecht High School. For those who might be interested, it was the setting for the very popular 1970’s TV show, Welcome Back Kotter. If one were to watch its opening credits, one would see my cousin, Johnny Boy, shooting hoops in the schoolyard. It turned out to be a paid gig. The producers saw him playing and gave him 20 bucks to keep at it till they told him it was a wrap.

Summers were spent at Uncle Sam’s bungalow in a lovely and sleepy beach town on eastern Long Island. Sound Beach was the place. It was paradise on Earth and jammed with parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and food and laughter — and bliss. It will appear often in my stories.

Eventually the family said goodbye to Brooklyn, and we moved to Long Island, where I had way too much fun.

Next stop for the newly grown-up me was Manhattan Island, a very different island, and a never-ending whirlwind of excitement.

The whirlwind was interrupted by a two year visit to Los Angeles, where I enjoyed many adventures in a place I always dreamed of but had only seen on TV and the movies. It was a blast. And I learned many things there, one of which was when The Beach Boys sang of the wonder of California Girls, they weren’t exaggerating. Not even a little bit.

In spite of this and many other bathed-in-sunshine phenomena — it wasn’t home, so back to NYC I flew. And there, I continued to fly very high. Twenty years of way too much adventure and drama and fun took its toll. I feel quite lucky to have survived it.

Next was Hollywood, Part Two. Ten more years’ worth. The post-hippie groovy vibe of the place was long gone, though, an entertaining and productive place it certainly was. I loved much of California, but this time, despite the success I found there, LA was not my cup of tea.

So back to New York, I came. I settled in Woodstock. It wasn’t as much fun as one would think.

Then, some gypsy kicked in, and I did a little of here and a little of there.

I’m now back in Upstate New York, not too far from where I was before the Gypsy thing. And this locale isn’t really singing to me, so—we’ll see. 

I know life isn’t supposed to be made exclusively of fun and good times. It has, for me, as I’ve grown older (and wiser?), proved to be much less of a party as it was back in the good old days. And I know, for so many of the human race and too many of Earth’s creatures, fun has nothing to do with anything.

These days, I’m finding a reasonable amount of… let’s call it: gratification.

Much of which is related to telling (and in doing so, reliving) my tales via this latest production.

Inside its walls, I will be putting all of the good and bad and reckless and wild and crazy and dangerous and amazing (well, to me) times of my turn here on Planet Earth, thus far.

Here’s hoping, if you are reading this, you might want to come along for the ride. I will do my best to make it an interesting one.

KM

That’s me across the street from where cousin Johnny Boy would be shooting those Welcome Back Kotter hoops a few years later. I can’t remember if that was my tricycle – I feel like I was a little old for one. I’m pretty sure it was mine (it kind of feels familiar), or maybe it was borrowed. Either way, I appear to be enjoying the ride.