COME ON HOME, BIG GUY!

Well it appears that the Florida assisted living experiment has run its course for my 89-year-old father-in-law, Salvatore. He’s been giving us some subtle hints lately that he’d like to come back to New York.

“Send me a cake with a file in it. I know what to do. Once a cop, always a cop.” And, “I’ve scoped it out. There’s a vent in the laundry room. If I can just get the cover off I can squeeze my way to freedom.”

Sal had a good run at Merrill Gardens in Naples, Florida and to prove it, take a look at these very impressive stats he racked up in a scant four years!

14 girlfriends (avg. age: 84.) (2 could even walk unassisted!)
26 AWOLS (“Hey, I wanted to stretch my legs.”)
6 fistfights (“They were all jerks.”)
8 showers (“What do I do to get dirty”)
14 attempts to procure Viagara prescriptions! (“I’m Italian. What can I tell ya?”)

Sal, Michele and I would welcome you back, but it’s going to mean some major sacrifices on our part. First of all, we would have to do something called eating dinner! A hot dog and a beer won’t get ‘er done anymore. And that dinner must be on Florida time as I recall. No more 7PM hot dogs. 5:00PM, the absolute latest. And we could pretty much forget a nice, romantic dinner out.

“Hey dad, we’re going out. PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH THE STOVE.”
“OK I won’t. Is that the thing in the kitchen with knobs on it?”

We’ve been down this bumpy road before. During the winter of 2002, I remember
watching Yankee games on the YES network with him. They show them
periodically for the baseball junkie who just can’t make it from October to April without seeing grown men pull and tug on their privates and spit various colored saliva at anything that isn’t nailed down. All Sal knew was that he was watching a baseball game. He didn’t really correlate the fact that ten inches of snow on the ground wasn’t conducive to playing baseball. Hey, at Yankee Stadium, it seemed to be nice, so play ball. As a side note, I also remember betting him on the outcome. That was cruel and I know in my heart that I’m going to Hell for that.

He was quite the lothario, my father-in-law. His last girlfriend ‘fell out
of the window’ watering his plants. They questioned Sal under the bright lights for weeks. All of the 3rd floor residents claimed Sal and Electra had been arguing a lot recently and one even testified that she saw Sal lift up Electra, stuff her in a Hefty bag and toss her out the window like yesterday’s garbage. Fortunately for him, her testimony was stricken from the record after it was alertly pointed out that this particular witness lost her sight in 1959.
It’s a good thing for Sal that window was only 2 feet off the ground. Electra’s fine but the African Violets she landed on unfortunately didn’t make it.

Of course, I’ll have to call the cable company and have them reinstall The Westerns Channel. Sal loves to look at Miss Kitty from Gunsmoke. I practically plotzed myself the first time I heard him say, “Wow, she’s a good looking number. I don’t know why the marshal doesn’t take her upstairs to one of the rooms in the Long Branch Saloon.” If memory serves, Leah Remini from King of
Queens does it for him as well. Oh yeah, he’s still got it. Some other faculties
may be departing but there’s still a whole bunch of wood for the furnace!

He probably couldn’t tell you what he had for breakfast but he can recall every little gory detail about all the good old days on the police force in Ossining. His favorite story is how he delivered a baby in the back seat of his police car in the middle of the night with nothing but his trusty Tom Mix pocketknife. It’s a great story and we’ve heard it 437 times. It never gets old.

So, Sal, come on home, big guy. I’ll make a deal with you. I promise to have dinner ready by 4:30PM every single day, if you promise NEVER to tell Michele the dream you had about Sandra Bullock, Katie Couric and America Ferrara.

Editor’s Note: Bob Miller is the host of the Morning Mix on Mix 97.7.
E-mail him at: Morningmix@mix97fm.com.