The Luna Park Gazette

I was working at a newspaper in Waterbury, CT when Whitey Bulger went on the lam. It was December 1994 and I hadn’t been in New England for very long, so I didn’t know much about the infamous gangster, who, according to at least one law enforcement official, was more feared in Boston than John Gotti was in New York. And I certainly didn’t know about his bizarre relationship with the FBI that allowed him to work as a government informant and a ruthless hoodlum simultaneously. Bulger was in his 60’s at the time and the FBI description of him warned that the career criminal was known to carry a knife strapped to his ankle. I couldn't believe that. A knife strapped to his ankle? The guy was old enough to be someone’s grandfather and he’s running around with a shiv down his sock? But like I said, I didn’t know much about Whitey Bulger. Bulger’s run from the law finally came to an end a long way from South Boston. The FBI said a search of his Santa Monica, CA apartment turned up more tha...

When I was studying film in high school, I remember reading a quote by Peter Ustinov about his 1962 production of “ Billy Budd .” Ustinov , who directed, acted in, and co-wrote the screen adaptation of Herman Melville’s novella, said he had decided to shoot in black and white because “color prettifies everything” and would undermine the serious story he was trying to tell. The line came back to me last week after all these years (I think it had something to do with the word “prettifies”) when I finally saw “Billy Budd.” And I was quite satisfied. Even though this was his second film, Terrence Stamp is introduced in this movie—“ A new face! A new talent! A great new star discovery! ”—as Billy, a painfully naive merchant sailor who is impressed by the British Navy in 1797. He quickly falls afoul of Claggart, the ship's sadistic master-at-arms, and tragedy ensues. Now I have to confess that I, an English major, never read the novella. I know, I know, shame on me. But, seriou...

And she seemed like such a nice lady… I got on the R train early one morning, headed straight for my favorite seat—the corner two-seater in the first car—and prepared to read and relax as I rode to work. There was a lady in her fifties sitting next to me and she asked me what I was reading. Lush Life by Richard Price, I told her and we started having a polite chat as we rumbled toward Manhattan. I’ve had a number of these commuting conversations in my years as a subway jockey and they are often quite pleasant. New York can be a very lonely and unfriendly place, so I always welcome an agreeable encounter. My companion and I talked about work and traveling and other such day-to-day stuff and things were going quite well, or so I thought. And then she dropped the bomb. “So,” she asked in a sly tone, “do you read the Bible?” Oy gevalt , not one of those, please God. I just wanted a quiet ride to work. I was in no mood to engage in some heavy theological blather. “Well, y...

My sister and I have been going on a weekly time traveling adventure as we continue to clean out our parents’ home. We’ve been going through old photographs, letters, cards and other bits of family history. It’s been emotionally wrenching at times as we recall childhood memories and there’s still plenty more to discover before we finally put out the “For Sale” sign. But there have been some fun finds as well. Last week we came across my old Cub Scout ID card, certifying that I was indeed a member in good standing with Pack 277. The card looks so official I wonder if I could use it in airports. But today we came upon a true treasure. While cleaning out the living room bureau, we discovered—are you ready?—my fifth grade Science Award Certificate. When I was growing up, children had to prove their scientific knowledge by assembling some kind of display that would illustrate a basic factoid of nature. I recall kids making buzzers for the projects on electricity and there were ot...

Dirge for Two Veterans by Walt Whitman The last sunbeam Lightly falls from the finish'd Sabbath, On the pavement here, and there beyond it is looking, Down a new-made double grave. Lo, the moon ascending, Up from the east the silvery round moon, Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon, Immense and silent moon. I see a sad procession, And I hear the sound of coming full-key'd bugles, All the channels of the city streets they're flooding, As with voices and with tears. I hear the great drums pounding, And the small drums steady whirring, And every blow of the great convulsive drums, Strikes me through and through. For the son is brought with the father, (In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell, Two veterans son and father dropt together, And the double grave awaits them.) Now nearer blow the bugles, And the drums strike more convulsive, And the daylight o'er the pavement quite has faded, And the strong dead-march enwraps me. In the easter...

And so I’m now 54 years old. I’ll skip all the “I’m so old” and “where did the time go?” crap because this is a day for celebration not flagellation. A lot of nice things happened today. My sister treated me to a delicious dinner, I received some very nice cards, and I got a ton of birthday wishes from all my friends on Facebook. Plus Modell’s sent me a discount coupon in honor of my birthday and if that isn’t cause for unrestrained merriment I don’t know what is. I started the day early with a 7am boxing class because even though it’s my birthday, it’s also gym day and I never miss a chance for a little self-abuse. I pushed things today as I tried to keep up with a much younger classmate during a heavy bag workout. I survived the class, but towards the end I began to understand how the bag felt. My niece likes to tease me about not straining myself "because of your age and your condition." I'm starting to think she may be on to something. We had our annual health fair at...

Do you want to be happy every day? Save your money and time. Don’t miss the chance of your life! Just trust me and life will change to better immediately. Just do it! You won’t be disappointed! I want to help you with your infernal ache. I know the place where you can buy the best drugs. The preceeding statements were made in my name, but I had nothing to do with them. My email contact list was hijacked recently so everybody on it received messages about the secrets of sexual attraction, were told that sex is the only satisfaction, and advised that “OMG! I have never had such a long sex!” and “LOL! It’s the funniest thing in the world!” Only it wasn’t funny at all. It was downright creepy. I got messages from so many people demanding to know what the hell going on. There’s nothing quite like having an ex-girlfriend writing to find out why you sent her an ad for cheap Viagra. The only satisfaction for me would have been finding the idiots responsible for this spam-icide and inflicting t...