Art of the American West Tucson Museum of Art

If you take a short drive downtown to the Tucson Museum of Art, you will find a thriving arts community. 

Upon entering the modern building, a broad spiral walk-way leads down to the Art of the American West collection.

The most popular event in Tucson is the Rodeo. Sweetheart of the Rodeo’s vivid colors portrays a cowboy on a bucking horse with hands whirling overhead, legs and feet thrashing, creating violent movement of the dangerous sport.  The reds and yellows suggest action and intensity of the rodeo by abstract expressionist painter, Walter Piehl of North Dakota.  Children are enthralled with this action-packed painting.

 In contrast to the violence of Piehl, William R. Leigh, known as the Sagebrush Rembrandt, uses soft southwestern colors in a painting called, The Rampage.  This rodeo cowboy is thrown off a horse in a comical depiction showing only his boots above the horse, leaving the rest to imagination.

Stereotypical western art is an idealized version of the west, and has the feel of a romantic movie. But in most early western art, there was a stereotype of Native Americans, depicting them as benevolent. The painting –Race for your Life shows a man traveling across the desert on horseback chased by angry Native Americans, demonstrating how Native-Americans were typecast.

By the 1970’s, the Native American Movement emerged in the US, especially in the Dakotas.  Native American painters were frustrated with the way they were depicted in western art and rebelled. Fritz Scholder believed Native-American’s were exploited for advertising to promote tourism in the southwest. Extreme and negative images were seen at gas stations, neon signs at hotels during that time, and other destructive images were common.

Scholder, greatly influenced by the Native-American movement, attended the University of Arizona and went to Santa Fe to teach art.  (I need to find out the  name)This painting is a symbolic image of a Native-American bound up like he is in a straight jacket with the iconic symbol of the bow at his waist.  Red and orange at the top, signifies either the setting sun or rising sun- as a new beginning for the way we see Native-Americans or the end of the way we depicted them in the past. It is up to the viewer to make that distinction.

Well-known western artist, Nickolai Fechin, was part of the Taos New Mexico Art Movement in the beginning of the 20^th century.  Born in Russia, he trained as an impressionist painter.  The colors he uses are not the clear realism generally associated with western art, but more an Impressionist loose method of handling by texturizing paint.

Maynard Dixon, known for painting cloud formations, is a well respected western artist who spent most of his life in Tucson.  Clouds in his paintings are highly valued by museums and collectors.  The museum houses a painting of his Tucson home and another with wispy clouds like those we see in the southwest. Dixon was married for a time to Dorothia Lang, famous 30’s depression era photographer. 

Sculpture and landscape paintings by Tucson artist, Ed Mahl, are geometric in shape, unusual for western art which typically is realistic.  Cowboy on horse sculpture is abstract modernism, reminiscent of Picasso style geometric angles. 

John Moyers, another important western artist, is part of Painters of the American West, a group formed in Sedona, Arizona.  The tribe and region of the country are identified by the costumes and horse blankets.  Before painting, he researches to create authentic and realistic art.

For the playful at heart, TMA houses a Spaghetti Western painting. As a child, William Shank loved watching Saturday morning westerns, including, The Lone Ranger, Hop-along Cassidy, Roy Rogers, and Clint Eastwood.  He became a big fan of Sergio Leone Spaghetti Westerns in the ‘70s, ‘80s.  To create his paintings, this Arizona artist took stills from western movies and had a silk screen made.  Once upon a Time in the West, with Henry Fonda and Charlie Bronson is a still from that movie. 

Visiting Art of the American West Collection in the Tucson Museum of Art will bring you back to a time when the wild, wild west was romanticized, politicized and realized, all left for your own interpretation.

Trekking to Tucson

Okay…I’m backkkkkkk!!!  Did anyone miss me?

Lawyers only ask questions when they know the answer.  I don’t know the answer to my question…so, if you didn’t miss me or even notice I was gone, now would be the time to be diplomatic and simply nod yes.

“Aw! Thanks. Nice to be back.  I missed you like crazy, too!” I'd answer.

Okay, maybe I’m being diplomatic.  But, truth be told, I do miss writing and feel a sense of joy, sitting in front of my laptop writing to you again.

Yesterday I decided to do a little Spring cleaning, even though it’s July.  I found a box filled to the brim with files.  I couldn’t remember what was in each file, so I brought arm-fulls to the dining room, cluttering up my dining room table and began to open each folder gingerly so nothing would fall out.

One of the great joys of being a freelance writer is finding bits and pieces of stories handwritten on napkins, envelopes and scraps of paper.  All kinds of creative little treasures yet to be finished that were jotted down in a frenzy a long time ago and forgotten.

I even found the first chapters to two novels I had started way back when.  Pretty exciting stuff. The finding that is and hopefully the stories yet to be written.

So in the organized clutter, I found a sweet little story. Well, it’s not exactly a story, more like a detail about moving to Arizona with my family when I was a little girl.  Just a little something I’d like to share with you.

When my family moved cross-country from New York to Arizona, I only had my clothes, Barbies, minus one head, and a large pickle jar with two turtles floating haphazardly in water that swished back and forth violently in the car as I held the jar securely on my little girl lap.

I’m sure to the poor turtles the speed at which my father was driving and the way the water was swishing made them feel as though they were in a Tsunami.  But, it was literally sink or swim when my father announced one day to my mother without hesitation, “I sold your red convertible.  We’re moving to Arizona!” The only option would have been adoption for the little hard shelled pets or the toilet bowl.  That being said, I saved the two little creatures from their demise or potential troubled childhood with mean stepsisters and brothers and took them to the wild, wild west.

Mom and Dad were strategically placed in the front seats, naturally.  Like who else could drive the car while Mom read the AAA map?  I was too young, and besides, my legs weren't long enough to reach the pedals. And remember there wasn’t GPS at that time.  Just maps and a compass.

Dickie and I sat in the back seat of the car with towels.  Lots of them.

Dickie was Mr. Perfect.  I always thought he was Mom’s favorite once Bobby went off to college.  He was blessed with brains, good looks and a charismatic smile.  Unfortunately the Gods also gave him motion sickness which made the 2,000 mile trip an interesting yet volatile experience for my brother…thus extra towels lined the back seat and floors in the car just in case.  And believe me, there were many  “just in case” moments.

Once Bobby, head instigator, tickle monster and Barbie decapitator went off to college, Richie a.k.a Dickie- Goodie-Two-Shoes, and I became great pals.  Even with the six year age difference.  We only had each other as we trekked all the way to Arizona.  It was us against the unknown.  And as far as I was concerned, my parents though well-intentioned, uprooted us from all things New York and familiar, like friends, Jones Beach, culture and equally important Mallomars.

Traveling cross-country to children in a car for a week was brutal.  Technology hadn’t been invented so it was more difficult to stay entertained for more than a nano-second.  And so without diversions, the conversation began something like this (and probably from me.)

“Are we almost there yet?”

Well, this died out by day 3.  It just seemed to me that we were never going to get there.  Wherever there was.  I was geographically challenged like my poor father.  It was up to my mother and her notorious sense of direction and excellent map reading skills to get us to the desired destination.

So, without CD’s for listening to current music, a DVD player for watching movies, ipods, Ipads, and cell phones, my imagination took flight.

Growing up on Long Island, the land of suburbs and all things green made me wonder what “the desert” would look like.  I was convinced Tucson would look like the Sahara desert and kept a watchful eye out for sand dunes as far as the eye could see.

Sand Dunes

Eventually we made it to Scottsdale which was surprisingly beautiful and we vacationed at Mountain Shadows resort for weeks.  Talk about Shangri-La.  Maybe the move wouldn’t be that bad.

Heidi Goldman at Mountain Shadows

My pale, pasty New York skin was bronze from sunbathing, using a heavy dose of Bain de Sole, the covering of choice in Arizona compared to Coppertone. Coppertone was slathered on the bodies of everyone I knew when we went to Jones Beach in New York plus they also received a complimentary covering, more like a schmear, of sand that filled every pore on their lobsta-red body.

I pictured Lawrence of Arabia and me trudging through a sea of sand on a camel, my head wrapped in a schmattah-like turban with music beginning to crescendo. 

Lawrence of Arabia sans Heidi Goldman

And then we drove to Tucson.  Not exactly Shangri-La.

No sand dunes. No camels. What’s up with that, I thought? 

We’re not in Kansas anymore Toto! 

Where's Waldo?

Forget Waldo!  

Where’s Heidi Goldman?

Heidi Goldman

She didn’t write!

She didn't call!

She didn’t send flowers!

WHAT'S UP WITH THAT???

Soooooooo...

Where's Heidi Goldman???

Peking Duck

Part 6 of  6

Stan the Man

So the first time I come into this outta the way joint, I know I got a winner.  Like how do I know?  Vinnie, you remember him?  Now I never question when Vinnie tells me anything.  He’s been around.  He knows.  Me?  I know nothin’, so I listen good.

“Ya like that Chinese stuff?” Vinnie asks me out of the blue, one day.

“Yeah, it’s okay,”  I say.

“Like why am I askin’ you?”   He begins again, “The only thing you eat is pizza,” and he lets out a big belly laugh, and believe me he’s gotta a belly to do that.

Vinnie the Vonce

Hey, so I’m chicken when I’m around Vinnie.  Ya don’ mess with this guy.  He not only has a belly, he has a gun, too.  If you seen the size of that gun you wouldn’t laugh, either.  Ya show respect.  I don’ fool around with this guy.  I listen good.

So one day Vinnie turns to me and says, “Ya wanna eat?”

Me, I’m not starvin’ but I ain’t gonna let the big gun know that.  I’m not apologizin’, like I said, when I’m around him, I’m different.  I react.  I become mellow.  A chicken.  Okay, I said it, not you.  I can say chicken, but don’ you ever come close to sayin’ that about me.  Like I said, I know this guy with a gun.  Get my point?

The Big Gun

Vinnie knows T.K., the guy who owns a Chinese joint.  What do I know?  I follow him into the restaurant.  

He don’ introduce me or nothin’.  I just stand there.  I look the joint over.  Nothin’ big.  Nothin’ fancy.  Just a strip shoppin’ kinda place.  So, if it’s okay with Vinnie, I figure it’s gotta be an okay place.  Just  ‘cause he’s big in the gut, don’ mean he ain’t got class.

Seein’ the size of his belly, I don’ want ya to get the wrong impression.  Vinnie eats a lot but, he just don’ eat anywhere.  Like I’m tellin’ ya, like I know pizza, I figure he knows Oriental.  It don’ take me long figur’n that one out fast.  He’s a gourmet, a guy after my own heart.

Well, T.K. shows us to a table and while they shoot the breeze, I study the menu.  It don’ have pizza on it, so whaddah I know?  I just wait for them to stop yackin’.  But for a guy that’s hungry, he’s sure takin’ his good old time.  Me, I just sit.  This Chinese cookin’ ain’t exactly familiar.

Vinnie he don’ even look at the menu.  He just tells T.K. to make some stuff that I can’t even pronounce.

Finally he turns to me sayin’, “You really gonna dig this food.  About time ya got some culture.  There’s other stuff besides pizza, ya know.  Trust me.  I been around the block a few times.”

“Yeah,” I say.  How can I tell him I’m no big fan of anything that don’ have red sauce on it?  Ya can’t say that to someone like him.  He’s invitin’ me; he’s payin’;  all I gotta do is say “yeah” and eat.  But don’ think I’m chicken.  Only I can use that name, ya hear?

Vinnie ain’t big on conversation, so we just sit and wait for the food.  The joint is empty, so I’m wonderin’… if it’s such a great place, how come Vinnie is the only guy what found it?  But I’m smart.  I don’ tell him that.  Like I said, he’s payin’.  I keep my mouth shut.

We wait a long time before I figure T.K. is the only one cookin’ in the kitchen.  Me, I don’ tell this to Vinnie, I can see he’s gettin’ restless, too.  Must be some busy restaurant if only one guy is preparin’ our Chinese.  I’m glad I ain’t starvin’ or they’d have to carry me out feet first.

When the food arrives, I gotta tell ya, I’m one surprised guy.  Mamma mia!  I don’ know what I’m eatin’.  Damn, it’s good, even if it don’ have no red sauce.

“Good shit,” I echo after him, soundin’ more and more like a chicken.  I’m busy pushin’ food into my mouth fast.  It’s hot, spicy, and tastes almost as good as Italian without the garlic.

But there’s somethin’ in the food makin’ my mouth burn and I feel my tongue getting’ numb an’ my eyes begin to cry.  I suddenly feel sweat beads pourin’ down my face.  Geez, an’ on him…nothin’!

This Chinese stuff ain’t half bad I’m thinkin’ as I wipe sweat from my face.  I’m sittin’, hopin’ Vinnie ain’t caught what’s happenin’ with me.  But he don’ notice; he’s too busy chowin’ down.  Ya don’ get a belly like his from dietin’, I’m thinkin’.

“Better than pizza?”  Vinnie asks, slapping me on the back as we leave the joint.

“Vinnie,” I tell him, “That was a blast.”  And I meant it.

So, the following week I go back to the Chinese restaurant and decide to take all the guys wit me.  Not Vinnie though.  He don’ travel in a pack like me.  I see T.K. standin’ there, as twelve of us come through the front door.  Pretty big crowd of guys, I’m thinkin’.  Money in the till.

But T.K. he’s not lookin’ so good.  It’s supper time and the place has hardly anyone in it.  The food is outstandin’, so where’s all the gents?  Now I’m wonderin’ why, but I don’ say nothin’.

The guys look at the menu and they spot Peking Duck.  Wow!  They all want that.  Me?  What do I know?  Food is food.  Peking Duck, like I know?

T. K. comes over to the table t take our order.  The guys are all clowning around; it’s a guy thing.  Next thing I hear T.K. shouting.

T.K. 

“What?” he screams at us.  “You all crazy?  You want me to cook twelve Peking Duck?  Why you no read menu?  Menu say: Order Ahead!  You all smart guy, but you no can read?  I only one in kitchen cooking.  

How you think I make twelve duck, no order ahead?  I no can do that!”

Paulie the Snitch

“You no can make twelve duckies?” little Paulie says with a straight face.  The guys all crack up at Paulie’s accent.  “Why you no make twelve duck?” he mimics.  We cook twelve pizzas one time, no order ahead!”

Red in the face, T.K. stood there, eyes blazing.  “I no can make so many at one time.  What you think this is?”

Little Paulie don’ back off.  “I think this a restaurant.  You say Peking Duck on menu, so what you mean you no can make?”

“I no can make so many, how many time I tell you?”  T.K. answers defensively, glaring at all of us.

“Fifty items on menu, why you pick Peking Duck?” he continues,  “Why you no order something, no order ahead.  Make for better choice, coconut shrimp, hot sour soup, not so difficult.”

“Well,” Paulie answers, not to be out done by the agitated man, “I have a good idea.  You cook all Chinese dishes and we sample.  Don’t look busy now,” he says, glancing around the empty room.  “We try, maybe we buy!”

T.K. threw a fit.  Paulie knew he would.  He just sat and watched T.K.’s face slowly turn purple with that remark.  Knowin’ my friend Paulie, he lived for moments like these.  And this was his moment.

Directing his attention solely toward Paulie, T.K. shouted, “You member Costco?  Sam’s Club?  You go there then, they make free sample for you eat.  No free here!  I no need customer same you.  Fifty item on menu, not enough you.  Only want eat twelve Peking Duck, no order ahead.  You want sample my food?  

No free.”  Repeating loudly, “See door there?  You go.  Time you leave restaurant!”

And with that, he marched away angrily muttering, “Crazy! Peking Duck. Fifty item, want free sample.”

We all stood up and left.  No problem.  We went to our favorite pizza joint instead.  Dominic gave us a high five as we entered his pizza palace.

“The usual?” he called out as Paulie went over to the juke box to put a quarter in the slot.

“Nah,” Paulie shot back to him, “How ‘bout makin’ us somethin’ different?  Surprise us, like we need more of that tonight,” he said, laughing.

Winkin’ at the guys, he continued, “Ya think we shoulda called ahead?”

Dominic don’ get it, but we did.  It’s an inside joke, now.  We all laughed.

I sit listenin’ to all the goofy noise they was makin’, knowin’ I’m turnin’ into some kinda nutty guy myself.  I’m learnin’ to eat Chinese with chopsticks.  Go figure.

We become good friends, T.K. and me.  Not like me and Vinnie.  No way, but he sits with me sometimes while I eat.  Hey, I ain’t fussy about what happened when I was there with the guys.  And T.K. knows I ain’t orderin’ that Peking stuff.

I figure T.K.’s a nice guy most of the time to me.  He has his crazy ways.  Some days I come in and he’s yellin’ about how no one goes into his place.  Like no joke!  I dig why he’s losin’ money.  I ain’t stupid, ya know.

Mostly though, he ignores even me like I’m not orderin’ enough food and still takin’ up a table.  Like they’re standin’ in line waitin’.  The guy’s gotta problem.  He don’ make Peking Duck.  He don’ give samples; he don’ give tastes;  he’s a dumb guy.  He just don’ get it.  I’m not gonna be the one to tell him that.

I’m learnin’ a lot.  I’m not rockin’ the boat.  He’s one weird duck.  

AND I DON’ MEAN PEKING!

You Gotta Problem Wit That?

IT Could Happen!

PART 5 OF 6

Hi, I'm Tessa.  So I married Stan-the-Man, a creep what thinks he's God's gift ta women.  A real classy guy.  Know what I mean?  His shoes have a shine an' he wears a boutonniere, that's a flower, in his lapel.  But I know that.  I got brains. How ya gonna know?  My husband the jerk thinks he's snowin' me with all the dolls he chases.  I start gettin' suspicious, so I hire a P.I. a private investigator what's trailin' him good.  Whatta laugh, but  a course I ain' wrong.  But it could happen.  I didn' get up wit yesterday's rain.  I been aroun'.  Know what I mean?

I'm takin' my time, playin' it cool, playin' it safe.  I got plans.  Big plans, what he don' know about.  I dream about 'em each night.  Like me goin' ta Mexico with the kids, far away from here where the jerk can' fin' me.  Who needs him?  Take the moola and run, and I am.  I'm outta here, like yesterday.

Gonna fin' a place a my own almos' paid fer-lock, stock, an' barrel.  I'm stashin' away money an' my ol' man ain' wise enough ta suspect.  Like I say, the guy's a gumba.  I got two kids.  One of 'em ain' his.  He don' know the difference.  He thinks the kid looks jus' like him.  What is he, blind?  Vinnie, yea Vinnie-the-Vonce his bes' frien', is the Daddy-O.  Looks jus' like him, an' my brillian' husband walks aroun' like he has blinders on.  It could happen.

I was woikin' in the Five and Dime when we meet.  I'm behin' the counter countin' change when Stan-the-Man stops ta ask me the time.  I know he's tryin' ta make out wit me.  It could happen.  I check him ova good.  Not bad ta look at, seems like a real gent.  But hey, how ya gonna know?  We pass the time a day, an' nex' thing I know he's askin' me out.

We pal aroun' durin' which I'm also seein' alotta this here other guy Vinnie-the-Vonce, on the weekends.  Well, one thing leads ta another wit Vinnie, an nex' thin' ya know I'm slightly pregnant.  Not that ya could notice it, but it's there.  I win' up tellin' Vinnie it's his;  he ain' too happy about it.  So I tell him not ta worry.  I'll take care a it.  No problem.  I pack up my stuff an' walk outta his life an' don' look back.  It could happen.

Now I also been seein' alotta Stan-the-Man durin' the week.  It's kinda hard decidin' which chump is the guy which done the job on me.  Since Vinnie gimme the brush, I figure if I make the right moves, an' the calendar don' lie, either way I maybe got a father fer the kid afta all.  I give it my bes' shot, an' start givin' Stan plenty a action.

In no time at all, I got this guy eatin' outta the palm a my hand.  He tells me all he thinks about is me.  I'm woikin' my points pretty good.  This guy's  a push-over, I'm thinkin'.  But, I don' figure right.  He don' wanna get hitched.  He wants us ta live together.  It could happen.

Now I remember my Mamma tol' me never ta do that.  Once ya leave your barn door open, an' ya  been aroun' too long, no guy wan's someone which everybody has touched the merchandise.  I remember her words good.  It could happen.  She smacked me ova the head enough times fer me never ta ferget.  How many lumps da ya wanna see?  Ya gotta problem wit that?

So, I win' up tellin' Stan that livin' together stuff ain' fer me.  'Course he ain' too happy about that, but whaddaya gonna do?  He knows he can' convince me, 'cause I tol' him about leavin' the barn doors open story, which Ma taught me.  He knew right away it's either marry me or the highway.  An' wit me, he figur' it could happen.  Bein' so nuts ova me, ain' no way he was gonna walk.

So, we go down to city hall an' get hitched.  Nothin' fancy, you understan' but he ain' a fancy kinda guy, only fer his poisonal self.  Me, I know I got a father fer my kid, so I'm not makin' any waves.  It's a done deal-as good as it's gonna get. I knew that.  Right away we set up house keepin' in a small apartment which by the time the kid is born is too small.  Stan's makin' out pretty good with the P.I stuff an' it ain' long before we buy a small bungalow type house an' settle in.  It could happen.

I see right away Stan's basically a nice type guy, but he got an eye fer broads.  Whaddaya gonna do?  Men, they gotta chase afta skirts, an' Stan's at the head a the line.  Me?  I'm so busy takin' care a my kid, Rudy, I don' have time ta worry.  Not only that, I'm already havin' another.  This one's his though.  I don' have time to play aroun' wit any other dudes.  'Sides which, I learned to really love the guy.  Go figure.  He's a push-ova.  Treats me good an neva lays a hand on me.  It could happen.  I can tell when he's in'erested in a new face.  Tha's when he blows a bundle,  buying me somethin' new, an' sendin' me ta the movie show.  I got him figure out good.  Know what I mean?

I begin ta see the picture on the wall.  I know it's only a matter a time before some bimbo hooks up wit my meal ticket.  So, slowly I start stashin' money away, in case I become down-sized.  Like I been thinkin' afta two kids the figure's the foist ta go, then the face, then me.  It could happen.  I begin makin' plans a my own jus' in case.  Know what I mean?

But it don' happen so quick.  Vinnie's my stool pigeon, keepin' tabs on Stan 'cause he owes me big time.  Didn' ever let him ferget about the kid.  He's always worried Stan will fin' out, an' he don' wan' another glass eye ta match the foist one.  It could happen.  But my Stan don' know that Vinnie his best friend is my snitch.  An' he's neva gonna fin' that out from me.

So, Vinnie keeps me inform', tellin' me Stan's the laughing stock at the Pub.  Every chick he chases don' turn out too good.  I'm still sittin' pretty, an' waitin' fer the shoe ta drop, preparin' fer his nex' move.  Meanwhile my stash is growin' and Stan ain' push me outta the front door yet.  I'm also beginnin' ta see alotta Vinnie.  I know he has the hots fer me, an' I preten' not ta notice.  I know which of his buttons ta push, keepin' him in'erested.  Ya gotta a problem wit that?

One day Vinnie comes ova an' starts ta make some fast moves on me.  He tries ta put his arms aroun' my waist an' plant a juicy one right on my kissa.  Know what I mean?  I try shovin' him away, but it ain' woikin'.  I'm real mad at him by this time takin' advantage a me, when I ain' give him the time a day.  He's stronger than me from workin' outta Stillman's gym an' we win' up fallin' on the floor.  I'm so busy pushin' his hands offa me, we didn' hear the front door open, till we both see Stan's fat feet right nex'ta our heads on the floor.

"Ah-ha!" my jerk of ova husband lets outta roar.  "What's goin' down in my house when I ain' lookin', you glass-eyed bum.  Ain'cha got any respec'?  Ya messin' wit my ol' lady behind my back in my house.  Hey!  I'm Stan-the-Man.  I'm suppos'ta be your bes' friend.  I ain' ferget ya still owe me from Ellie yet.  What kinda deal is this?  There ain' enough broads in your pizza parlor ta play aroun' wit?  Ya gotta go afta the mother a my two kids?

"An Tessa, whatcha go an' let him lay his hands on ya?  Don' I take care a ya good?  This is how ya show me respec'?  Ain' I been a good husband an' never lay a hand on ya?  I buy ya fancy clothes an' give ya spendin' money ta go ta the show?  What's this guy givin' which I ain'?  Ain' I got enough trouble from all the two-timin' broads at the Pub?  Can' believe my own wife is shaftin' me big time an' wit my bes' friend Vinnie.  Ya chicks are all tha same. "   Whaddaya gonna do?

I try ta tell him I had nuttin' ta do wit what he thought he saw.  But I knew he wouldn' believe Vinnie an' me weren' makin' out on the floor.  It could happen.  I knew the timin' was right fer me ta move on.  Hell, I had enough money stashed away ta gimme a good life.  Ya gotta problem wit that?

So, the nex' mornin' when Stan leaves fer the Pub, I quickly begin ta pack up the kids.  But he surprises me when I hear his key in the lock.  I try pretendin' that nuttin' much is goin' down, but he sees the suitcases.  Pointin' his finger at me real good he says, "Now where do ya think ya goin'?  You ain' goin' nowhere witout me.  I fool aroun' a little, but whaddaya gonna do? I'm a hot-blooded guy.  I don' care nuthin' about any a the broads I play around wit.  I always come ta you an' the kids, don' I?"

Felt like my Ma was givin' me another lump on the head wit her fist, tha's how much he surprise me.  My Stan-the-Man beggin'.  I give him a evil eye look, like Ma taught me, an' it woiked.  He come ova an' puts his arms aroun' me which is the foist time he done that since we got hitched.  He plants one right on the mouth an' he ain' done that since gettin' the license downtown.  This is not the way I figure fer it ta woik out.  Know what I mean?

Reachin' inta his pockets he han's me a velvet box.  It could happen.  Inside was the biggest diamon' ring which I ever seen.  It look like Plymouth Rock, that pilgrim thin'.  I see a picture of it onc't.  Ya gotta problem wit that?

"Put it on Tessa.  Ya earn it.  Hey, ya been a good wife.  Ya don' wanna run off wit Vinne, makin' me the jerk a the neighborhood.  The guys at the Pub will die laughin' if my own wife dumps me.  Ya don' wanna do that!  I don' wancha ta go."

He sounded convincin', but I knew betta an' didn't believe a woid a it.  But I figure ta let him suffer a little more, 'cause I know I don' have to go nowhere now.  I got him good.  It could happen.

So, he puts the ring on my finger which is blindin' me cause it's  big as a search light.  Like I tol' ya, I never seen nuthin' so humongous in my life.  Now the way I figure, seein' what he thought he saw, he couldda give me a rap in the mouth thinkin' that his bes' frien' Vinnie an' me was makin' out on the floor.  It could happen.  But go figure guys.  Ya gotta problem wit that?

Funny how it all woiks out when ya don' leave the barn door open, jus' like Ma tol' me.  I got somethin' ta hold ova Stan's head, insurin' my future.

Now Vinnies' worryin' Stan will fin' out about Little Rudy an' give him another glass eye ta match the foist.  Stan's worryin' about the guys at the Pub findin' out about me an' Vinnie.  An' me...I ain' worryin' about nuttin' no more.  Hey, my clock is tickin' an' I ain' gonna be a beauty forever, but I plan it out pretty good.  I gotta ring, a house, a new car which I ferget ta mention, a Pizzeria which Stan gimme when I tell him about Vinnie's stash, a couple a kids,  an' a bundle a dough.

I got Vinne-the-Vonce hangin' aroun' on the side, waitin' an' hopin' that maybe some day him an' me can maybe run off ta Mexico.  Not bad fer a chick from the Five an' Dimer which shafted two guys what thought they was gonna stick it ta her.  But I show 'em good that I didn' come down wit yesterday's rain.  Hey, it could happen, an' it did fer me.

Ya gotta problem wit that?

How Ya Gonna Know?

PART 4 of  6

Vinnie theVonce

Rememba me?  I'm Vinnie, the Vonce.  I'm the guy which Stan the Man, my best fren took me ta the Shubert Theater ta see Ellie's show which by the way I take a powder on, an split.  He don' let me ferget it either, even though he don' see Ellie no more on accoun' a that.


I gotta Pizzeria on Fifth and Belmont.  One day I'm tossin' a pie when a classy lookin' dame comes bouncin' in with the greatest pair of gams an' big bertha's what I ever seen.  I nearly drop the pizza dough given her the once ova.  I'm a hot-blooded Paisano.  

She don' even give  me a smile or the time a day, but right away she orders a pepperoni pizza ta go.  Me, I can' take my eyes offa her body.  So I try pitchin' her a line like, "Ya like pizza?"  Quick-like she answers, "Don' press ya luck, I didn' come ta pizza joint cause I wanna burger an' fries."

But, hey, how ya gonna know?

I try ta make a little fast talk, but she ain' buyin' my line a goods.  I start tossin' the dough in circles ta catch her attention an' maybe try ta impress her.  But it ain' workin'.  So, I start spreadin' a little sauce on the pepperoni pie pretendin' this time I'm concentratin' on her order.  Casual-like I say, "Ya been here before?"  She still don' say nuttin'.  "Aw, what the heck," I continue, "I'm only askin' 'cause I bought the joint a couple a months ago, an' I ain' seen ya in here before."

"Oh," she says, "This place belongs ta you?  I been comin' here regular since I move ta the neighborhood.  
funny, I ain' seen ya before neither."

How come the chick suddenly comes alive, I'm wonderin, an' she atchilly can talk?  How ya gonna know?

Maybe she was thinkin', I'm jus' a jerk what tosses dough cause I ain' got too many smarts.  Guess she figures wrong.  Know what I mean?  She suddenly decides ta make points wit me when she learns that I own the joint.  It could happen.  She starts gettin' kinda chummy, an' it an' hard ta figure out why she change her attitood so quick-like.  How ya gonna know?
She win's up tellin' me her name is Tessa an' she loves EyeTalian food.  Hey the dame is right up my alley.  My kinda broad.  It could happen.  By the time her pizza's outta the oven, I already make a move invitin' her ta dinner Saturday night at my house.  I'm gonna cook her somethin' special, 'cause I think we should get ta know each other.  We got somethin' goin' fer us, like she digs Eyetalian food.  This here Paisano likes what she got ta offer.  Know what I mean?

"Cause I tell Tessa I don' live in no fancy joint, but I own it.  No mortgage, no payments ta the bank;  it's free an' clear, all mine.  Ya gotta problem wit that?  I could tell Tessa's loosin' up when she hears I gotta house, no studio apartmen', a car, an' my own business.  Do I know how ta impress a chick an' make big points or what.  How ya gonna know?

I ain' no good lookin' jock, I know that.  I'm short, stocky, an' got one glass eye, so I ain' all that good ta look at, but I make the most a what I got.  I work hard, save my dough, an' gotta dynamite personality.  I know how ta treat a broad an' show her a good time.  Ya gotta problem wit that?

I had ta learn how ta get what I wan' from a chick.  It took practice, but I finally figure it out all by myself.  Ya make believe you're a gent what needs a dame ta look afta ya.   Dames love bein' needed.  it's got somethin' ta do wit bein' a mother.  Know what I mean?  They learn that when they're little.  It's like a home-in instinct kinda thing, like birds buildin' a nest.  Guys don' got it, but they how how ta get it.  Somehow it works out nearly all the time.  How ya gonna know?

So, like I been sayin', I know how ta work a chick.  Now I think I got one what will buy my line, gimme the kinda recreation I wan', an' she's thinkin' it was all her idea.  'Cause me havin' a car, a house an' a pizza parlor ain' too shabby a deal fer her, neither.  Know what I mean?

Well right away we hit it off, an' start seein' alotta each other.  Every Saturday Tessa has dinner an' sleeps ova my place.  We're gettin' very chummy.  Intimate, ya know.  It could happen.

I begin makin' big plans, like maybe she could move in wit me, which don' sit too good wit her.  She lets me know right away she ain' no one-night stand.  She don' believe in shackin' up, like that movin'-in kinda stuff.   'Cause I ain' too happy about that, an' tell her, "Hey Tessa, whaddaya afraid a?  Huh?  Ya practically livin' here wit me anyway.  'Sides which I wanna take good care a ya.  How am I suppose ta do that when ya come bouncin' in and out like a yo-yo?  It won' cost ya no money.  Ya can live here fer free.  Ya gotta a problem wit that?"

But she's lookin' ta get married, an' I ain' ready fer no commitmen'.  Hey, there's a world out there.  I'm an operator.  I ain' even tried sowin' them there wild oat things.  I need my space, but I wanna broad fer what a broad is good at-my recreation.

One Friday night, Tessa tells me she's gonna have my kid.  Hey, what does she think?  I been aroun' the block a couple-a-times.  I ain' come down wit yesterday's rain.  How do I know the kid's mine?  If she sleeps wit me Saturday, who's she sleepin' aroun' wit the rest a the week?  I gotta brain what thinks, an' it ain' where ya pin the tail on the donkey.  Tha's how come I get where I did.  I ain' pushin' no baby carriage wit a kid in it callin' me, "Daddy," which I ain'.

I pay my dues wit this stuff onc't before.  No more mister nice guy.  "Fin' another sucker ta stick it to," I tell her.  "It ain' gonna be Vinnie the Vonce."

Right away she starts bawlin' and I say ta her, "Tessa, the deal is off between us.  Dead!  No kids, ya hear?  I'm outta here.  I'm gone.  Unless ya wanna have an abortion."

Tessa don' say much.  Tha's what I like about this dame.  Quiet-like she tells me, "Vinne, I'll handle it.  Ya don' have nuttin' ta worry about."  She gets her stuff an' walks outta my life.  Right away I know I made the right move.  Instinct.  

Well sometime afta she an' me split, I learn from the guys at the Pub that she was seein' another guy at the same time she an' me was foolin' aroun'. 'Cause I was a little ticked off when I hear the guy what she was shackin' up with was Stan the Man, my bes' frien'.  An', I also hear Tessa had the kid which Stan thinks is his.  How ya gonna know?

I was really runnin' scared at the time, hopin' he wouldn' ever fin' out the truth about the kid.  He don' like a John who's a player, but not a stayer.  'Sides which Stan loan me the down payment on the pizza joint.  I give him a percentage from which he plays the ponies at the track, an' that way, he don' need ta report the winnin's.  Ya gotta problem with that?

I'm tossin' dough one day when who walks inta my pizza joint, but Tessa.  She's actin' real friendly-like.  Guess she ain' angry anymore about me dumpin' her.  But, why should she be?  She didn' think I was gonna spring fer a kid what ain' mine.  How ya gonna know?

Like I say, Tessa is some looker.  She's a knockout.  Havin' a kid don' spoil her figure none in the tight red dress an' high heel shoes she's wearin'.  She's smilin' like a cat what swallow a canary.  Puttin' her hands on her hips she says, "Ya know Vinnie, ya done me a real favor.  I got married ta a real gent.  Treats me good.  Neva wanted no one-night stan' like you.  I lucked out."

I can' take my eyes offa her.  Whatta good lookin' sexy broad.  I forget how this dame could turn me on, till I see her.  Suddenly I realize I still got the hots fer her.  She leans over toward me, an' I catch a look at the big bertha's which show me what I been missin'.  An' then the chick holds out her finger fer me ta see the ring she's sportin'.  Suddenly I ain' feelin' so good.  The pizza dough gets holes in it from too much tossin' on my part.  

She shows me a picture of her kid.  He's a spittin' image a me.  His name's Rudy.  Hey, what kinda name is that fer a kid?  Me, Vinnie the Vonce, a Papa wit a kid name Rudy, which don' even know he's mine.  Well, Tessa starts ta sweet talk me an' nex' thing ya know, we're back where we lef' off.  Tessa's the forgivin' type an' 'sides which, ain' I the father of her kid?

Fer me, the action is too good ta pass up.  I don' usually mess aroun' wit my bes' frien's ole lady, unless a course there's a way which he won' fin' out.  Hey, I admit I'm a hot-blooded Paisano, what got principals.  But, if ya got plenty a moola ta spread aroun', ya could like ferget the principals an' make ya own rules.  Ya go wit the flow.  So, I play the odds against Stan findin' out what's goin down, an' I keep my eyes open while playin' the cat an' mouse game wit Tessa.  But, I didn' know Tessa was usin' me.  How ya gonna know?

Stan starts gettin' restless afta the last kid's born, an' begins lookin' aroun' fer a little action.  He tells the guys at the Pub, the juices are flowin', he's losin' his line, an' his battery needs rechargin'.  Us guys understan' that.  How ya gonna know?

One thing leads ta another an' Stan is the star pitcha playin' the field again.  Tessa is gettin' suspicious which Stan don' catch on.  She calls me ta fin' out what's goin' down.  But I can' squeal on my bes' frien' Stan, so Tessa threatens ta tell Stan about Rudy.  

Now Tessa an' me gotta become buddies.  I got somethin' she needs ta know, an' she got somethin' on me she wan's Stan ta know.  So, I gotta promise her when Stan starts two-timin' her, I'll call, but only if she an' me can begin gettin' it on again on the side.  How ya gonna know?

Meantime, while makin' out wit her, I give her a proposition about us gettin' a place in Mexico where we can live.  I got plenty a money stashed what Stan don' know 'cause I been holdin' out on him since me an' Tessa are gettin' it on.  I could take care a her an' the kids big time.  But it don' mean we would get married.  I ain' ferget about that yet.  I still didn' sow them there wild oat things.


She begins ta get in'erested in my deal.  Hey, I figure I got it made.  I get to live wit this sexy broad, an' I watch my son grow up.  Stan is so busy hittin' on dames I figure I'm doin' him a favor.  No kids, no wife, he can let the good times roll.  Whatta frien's fer?  How ya gonna know?

Only it don' turn out that way.  One day I go ta her house ta repor' on Stan an' I try ta make a move on her hopin' fer a roll in the hay.  I grab her an' try ta plant a kiss.  She won' let me an' we win' up fallin' on the floor.  How ya gonna know? 

Stan the Man

Nex' thing I know Stan's in the room grabbin' me, ready ta punch out my only good eye.  I try ta escape but the dog's holdin' on ta my leg.  Whaddaya gonna do?  I limp outta their joint rubbin' my foot an' I fall ova the kid's toys an' hit my head on the floor.  My glass eye's knocked outta my head.

Stan's screamin', "Vinne ya Vonce, ya suppos' ta be my bes' frien'.  He jerks me offa the floor whiile slappin' me aroun', an gives me back the glass eye which he foun'.

Meanwhile, Tessa's throwin' me the car keys which I lef' on the table an' I'm limpin' outta there ta my car, jumpin in, startin' the engine, an' racin' off.  Ya gotta problem wit that?

Now I'm back tossin' pizza dough an' waitin' on tables. Had ta let all my help go 'cause Stan the Man call-in the marker which he give me ta buy the joint.  He also find out about my stash for the Mexico deal, an' I owe him ta the tune of ten thousand big ones.

I feel I been took big time.  Me!  Vinnie the Vonce got shafted good by a broad.  But I don' give up. 

I remember them big bertha's, an' her figure what's hot ta trot.  I'm still in the game.  I'm a player what likes a little action.  I ain' goin' down fer the count.  I'm stickin' around.

Ya gotta problem wit that?  Hey!  How ya gonna know?