My Dad was a jack of all trades and a great family provider. He always had a job doing carpentry or construction and was a great mechanic and even an inventor. Anyway....One morning I was having breakfast when my Dad woke up and joined us for pancakes. He was still entranced by the dream he had just woke up from. He said, "Kay I just had this dream and this number...well.. I just know it's gonna come in. Do we have any money?" Well, my Mom was an awesome kinda Mom and only had $1 to buy milk for us kids. There was no way she was giving up that dollar easily. Somehow my Dad was able to make her a believer. Man that dream must have been powerful. We finished breakfast and my Dad was gone with a dollar and a three digit number in his head that he had dreamed.
In our neighborhood there were many Italiano's and numbers runners. You get 500 -1 on a three digit number which is 1,000-1 true odds. Nice profit for the number takers. Tips on horses at Yonkers raceway came often from the inner family and friends. Everybody played the number and gambled. This was a way of life for many New York Italians, and what I grew up around. This is what my Dad had a dream of. Being so lucky as to hit the number.
That evening my Dad had been late for dinner and my Mom was worried. He hadn't called or anything. After about an hour my mom was freaking out
when we heard him coming up the stairs. Me and my sister both jumped up and ran to greet him. When the door opened. there he was with a shocked look on
his face."Kay'' he said. "it came in. That's right friends! My Dad had hit the number he had dreamed of and it was rock-n-roll at the Mancini's
My Dad asked us all for numbers so as he could see just how lucky he might be. To quote an old wise man. " you'll never know if your on a heater unless you play it" Well this is how my Dad also thought and left the next morning to go to work and play the list of lucky numbers he had jotted down the night before.
The next night we waited in nervous anticipation for Dad to come home again and see if the lucky numbers we gave him came in. The door opened and there he was again. This time he was really freaked out. He not only hit the number again but this time he had $5 on it. Elementary my dear mathematician
$2500. Us kids started jumping up and down, Mom and Dad were kissing and hugging us. What a happy time for our family.
On the third day my Dad took the day off from work. The business he worked for, (Globe waterproofing) was slow and had been up for sale for a while. Hard times. That's why we only had a dollar two days ago. The day went on. We played outside after school and now it was time for dinner. I think we must have had Porterhouse Steaks or something like that for dinner that night. Again my Dad was late. Real late. Mom was OK this time and just relaxed and read her paper. But wait... Hey... Footsteps.... Now the door. Just seeing the amazement on my Mom and Dads faces when they met at the door was enough to realize that he had done it again. They looked like they had witnessed a miracle. And a miracle in deed it was. Priceless.
The next day my Dad bought the business he was working for and named it AAA Waterproofing. This is how my Dad got into his own business. Incredible. I always wondered but never knew just how much money he hit for on that third day. The business supported our family for the rest of my Mom and Dad's lives. I sure love this memory and hope you enjoyed reading it.
Enjoy your families my friends Wizzzmo
I once new a man with a heart of stone, who also had a palm-a-granite. What iron knee.
Mario said he was a pacifist. He was. He tried to pass a fist right passed my nose.
Wow! Damon a nomad...wow! Spelled backwards is. Well... you know.
My Italian friend Rocco went to the Island of Jamaica and met this beautiful Island goddess. They fell in love and had a child. A cute little Pastafarian
Yreka Bakery Spelled backwards is Common you can do it.
Race car spelled backwards is race car Zooooooom!
Nick had a son and named him Richard. While having dinner last night my girl asked me "just who is that nice looking young man over there?" I replied, " that's Richard, Nix Son."
No x in Nixon Spelled backwards is You guessed it my friends
Stay thirsty my friends Wizzzmo
As I speak. another child is being born. Another web birth is incredibly taking place. Forming its self into one the many sites you may journey to. May your journey take you beyond the barriers and into my new home on the web. Stories of my incredibly lucky life will be etched in stone so as time cannot wash them away. My head minion is working his fingers and mind to the bone. The head bones connected to the neck bone. The neck bones connected to the..... stop!...... What a bonehead......! Anyway......A wizards power can only go so far or do so much. The rest must be accomplished by allowing the stars in his celestial encapsulation to forever shine on his new domain. The minion star is one that so brightly shines. This is the way of the worlds.
Please, my friends. Let us welcome to the galaxy with open arms....... wizzzmo.com The new kid on the blog.
STAY WITH ME MY FRIENDS WIZZZMO
It's been one week and this is fun. Hope you are enjoying some of my sweetest memories. More stories videos and jokes are not even a light year away. May all your travels be adventures and all your adventures be good ones.
Stay Thirsty My Friends Wizzzmo
Sometime back around the mid 80s, I lived in Newport ,Oregon. Those were the days of cocaine and gold tequila. The Pip Tides, A local hangout which featured live music, poker, black jack and lots of action, was closing that night. Times were tough due to stupid spending of my cash on drugs and alcohol. I had about $150 left and was not working at the time. Another big guy like myself would be the all night host for after hours parties the happened nightly. I was burnt out and needed a change. I suggested we take off for Reno. I had heard through the grapevine that my friends' house was under surveillance and leaving town was a no brainer.
We left that morning and arrived at the Peppermill the same evening. $150 was my total BR (bankroll) as we settled in. The first few days I just played poker, my most skillful game. I had the BR up to about $450 when I called a Keno runner to the table. I was playing for about 5 hours and the night was still young.
About 5 or 6 years earlier I had played a Keno ticket for 8 straight hours and on a whim decided to stop playing being the new Keno runner was not as cute as the previous. This was fatefully a real bad move for the very next game all 6 numbers so painfully appeared. 3 numbers. 4 numbers, 5 numbers and then, I yelled no...! loudly as the 6th appeared. That's right my friends. The very next game. $1500 that I really needed at the time was not to be. This also happened to my mom years ago and now me. Sheash, what luck.(THE BAD)
The evening went on and Keno was going like Keno usually does. I was playing a 6 spot special ticket. The same numbers I had played 6 years earlier. They were 1, 11, 22, 8, 9, and 19. The same club. The same numbers. There I was. The ticket, if it were to hit, would pay $90 for 5 numbers and $4444 for all 6 to come in. It was about 4:00 in the morning. I had been playing poker and Keno for about 8 or 9 hours at this time. The Keno runner stood beside me and sweated yet another ticket. Three, 4, then 5 numbers up. Upon counting down how many numbers were called, the Keno runner was going to go get my $90 win. I then noticed only 19 had been called. Holy smoke!!! At that same moment the 6th number appeared, Number 11 glowed brightly. I had won $4444.00. Yahoo! holy shit! wow! Revenge! But this story is not over. (THE GOOD)
Two nights later I was at the MGM as it was called at the time. I played 10 games running, The same numbers. This ticket cost $1.25 per game. If all 6 came in it would be another $2500. I ran into International Al a poker player and horse handicapper. He had a horse that he really liked and was on his way to make a bet. I joined him. While trying to decide how much to bet I thought about the Keno ticket I had ignored for so long. I gave Al $100 And said, "Bet the horse for me. $60 to win and 2 Twenty dollar exactas." I ran out into the long giant room and could hardly make out the board. As I got close enough to see, it looked like, "holy shit," there they were. All 6 numbers again. I had won another $2500. After getting my picture taken so as I could send it to my family, I went to find Al. There he was. I said, "hey I hit another Keno ticket" He said, "man you are really lucky. The horse came in too." I had won another $900.
Another two nights passed and I was at the MGM once more. Again I played my lucky numbers and got into a 15-30 hold-em game. The Keno board was right in front of me this time. I was deeply engrossed in the game when I realized I was still playing Keno. I looked abruptly up at the board. Unbelievable! all 6 numbers again. Another $2500. I had accumulated over $10,000 in winnings in about 6 days. (REAL GOOD)
This was the first time in my life that I had $10,000. My options were expanded. I left Reno to go back to Oregon and maybe buy an old school bus and live the hippie dream. Babes, parties, Dead shows. Man was I disillusioned. Unfortunately I found a 1963, 36ft. International school bus that had been customized for $4000. I tried to help save a friend who was strung out and took him with me on a road trip from hell. In 6 and a half weeks I was back in Oregon with $150 to my name. What a whirlwind. But that's another story. (THE UGLY)
STAY LUCKY MY FRIENDS Wizzzmo
Brewster was a little town just over the border from Danbury Conn. At least that is how you would describe it if you were from Danbury. Young people who lived in Conn. would come to drink liquor in Brewster often on the weekends, 'cause the drinking age was 21 in Conn. and only 18 in N.Y. This was one of those weekends.
At the time I owned a 1967 Chevelle Malibu and was cruising 'round the back roads with 3 other guys. We of coarse were getting stoned on some of that great Columbian I had a connection for. The best and laughingest pot ever. I handed the five remaining joints to one of my colleges to hold on to for me. Shit!...I didn't want it in my possession.
We arrived at the Hunt Club and man it was packed. Lots of Connecticut plates. Lots of locals were there that night too.
The hunt club was owned by Mrs. Hunt who had a fox for a daughter, Michelle, and Gene a blatant homosexual who used to tend bar. The place was smoky and noisy all the time. Someone who I knew came up to me and said," The pigs are out there messing with your car, you better go see what's happening." I had gotten three joints back from Mark a few minutes earlier but one was still missing. So I then went outside to check out what was going on.
Lights were flashing when I arrived at my car. I asked what was wrong and was quickly asked if this was my vehicle. "Yes " I said. Then he ordered me to open the door. I complied being I had no rights whatsoever back in 1970. Upon opening the door my eyes saw the worst thing possible. The missing joint, right there on the floor. I'm busted, went racing through my mind. Jail, lawyers, my parents, my freedom! I'm fucked.
Then with one felt swoop he hastily pushed me out of his way and with the other hand went right to my overhead visor. That's when a miracle occurred. I had put a bag of peanut M&Ms up there earlier knowing I would be able to satisfy the munchies later that night. That bag (And this ain't no shit Sherlock) as he pulled down the visor, fell right on top of that joint. Shit ass luck as they say. He then looked down suddenly and could only see that bag of M&Ms. He continued his search and found nothing that he was looking for. Good thing he didn't have the munchies. He still made me move my car. That asshole! Then I went back in to the Hunt Club and got wasted on Jose' Cuervo Gold drivers and smoked the rest of the Gold Columbian out back. I guess it was a golden night for me.
Stay tuned for more Brewster stories. Drink up my friends Wizzzmo
Well... I never was real good at listening to authority, so there we were me and my best friend Bobby Appleholm with a different group of girls that came up from Untermyer Park with us that day. Two of the girls were Ann and Janis, a couple of Dead Heads we knew from Yonkers. My friend Bob and I were real good at this. The country (upstate N.Y.) was a great lure for them city girls we met up at the park. And I with my hippie van always had lots of room for young maidens.
So... There we were skinny dipping with these beautiful girls. Smoking Columbian. Just having a wonderful time when.... You guessed it. The New York State Police appear from out of the bushes. Luckily one of the girls had hidden the stash so at least that wasn't an issue. They had my license plate number from last time we were there and said that we were under arrest for skinny dipping in the Reservoir. We then had to follow them to the station so as they could book us and set a court date. I'm sure glad they let us go on our own re-cog. Having to stay would have sucked.
Back then it didn't seem to be a problem that the three girls were all 17. I was 20. Bob was 19. Big deal! And there shouldn't have been a problem as far as I was concerned. We were just swimming. Well... you know.
When it was time to go to court Bob and I showed up dressed nice but not overboard nice. Then it was time to meet the parents of the three Jewish Princesses we had so foully shared our nakedness with. Man, the looks we got at first were not good. But when the judge just gave us a verbal spanking and said he didn't want to see us again. We were all very happy. The girls went back to the city and me and Bob went swimming.
Stay free my friends Wizzzmo
Once upon a time in Brewster, N.Y. I was swimming with a group of friends at a great little swimming hole in Sodom Reservoir. There were about 7 of us enjoying the cool water just around the bend from Interstate 680. Where we were sort of not visible from passing motorists. And never had a problem before. We always went skinny dipping at this spot and my friend Flora and I decided to escape from the group and find some privacy. There was a spillway that was really flowing good that day and we were able to walk underneath the flowing water to the other side without being seen from the freeway.
On the other side we found a nice little nook between some bushes near the small dirt service road and diddled away about an hour. We were only about 100ft. from the single green barred locked gate when I thought..., Wow! wouldn't that be a kick to hitchhike naked on the interstate. Flora was all for it so there we went. We stood proudly side by side with our thumbs outstretched. Big smiles on our faces Man, you could here breaks locking, wheels squealing, tires grabbing the pavement. They weren't stoppng. Oh no! And the look on some of their faces saying "What the f....." I thought that we'd better get back to our clothes and our friends. We had been gone too long.
Upon approaching the spillway, that we went under on the way over. I like that, under on the way over. Nice! Thats when we noticed the cops waiting on the other side. We knew the jig was up. And hurried our way back on top of the spillway. My best friend Bob Appleholm (who I had left behind with the rest of the girls) was waiting with our clothes. I quickly through my cut-offs on. Hey! cut-offs on. That's nice too. And went to talk to the police. I was usually the spokesman for the group being I was the oldest and it was my license plate that they had checked out. I was told that they got a couple of reports that there were naked people on the highway and that they would be a lot happier if we didn't swim at this spot, because it was just too close to the highway. We happily agreed and were able to leave with just a friendly warning.
Brewster is a place where many major good times were had. Many more stories of adventure and great escapes from them pesky cops,( that could do just about anything they wanted back then) await you my followers.
Stay naked my friends. Wizzzmo
A Great Hippie Wizard aged with wisdom, and spells...