"YOU AIN'T HEARD NOTHIN' YET"

I have always had a curiosity and craving for technology.  I'll admit that I have an inner "geek".  Gadgets, toys, electronics or whatever you want to call them, I see the ad for the latest innovation and I'm immediately taken in. The most recent product seducing me is the iPad which is currently being hyped.  Apple wisely sends out email announcing that you can "reserve yours now" as if it were a limited edition nicknack being offered by the Franklin Mint.

As a child I was spoiled with technology toys.  I was the first kid on the block with walkie-talkies, tape recorders and the newest and coolest radios.  I had an uncle in the appliance business and I suspect that my father was as happy giving these gifts as I was to receive them.

"Once a new technology rolls over you, if you're not part of the steamroller, you're part of the road"  

steward brand

It makes perfect sense that my appliance-selling uncle would have had some pretty nifty technology for himself. Mostly I remember being blinded by very bright lights while he was shooting his home movies at family gatherings.  There was nothing very remarkable about someone making home movies in these pre-video days.  People had been making dreadful 8mm movies for quite a while.  What was different about my uncle's movies is that his had sound.  Like Al Jolson in the Jazz Singer (1927 version), the Lanni clan was recorded with voices! I don't remember ever seeing any of the movies.  I was 5 or 6 years old at the time, but they were part of family folklore.  

I received a most wonderful gift this week.  Of all the technology that I have embraced in the 45 or so years since my first "neat-o" walkie-talkies, this was the best.  It's not the latest Apple product or some new super computer, but it did come from my appliance-seller uncle's daughter.  I was given a DVD.  

I know that DVD is not "new" technology.  Everyone has a DVD player.  Blu-ray is already surpassed DVD in the grand progression of gizmos.  This DVD contains 2 hours of those mythic Lanni Clan talking home movies.  The quality is as poor as one would expect from 45 year old celluloid being transferred to DVD but the content is pure treasure.

The beginning of the DVD is my cousins playing in the pool at the Empress Motel, Asbury Park, New Jersey.  Back in the early 1960's my family always spent some magical summer days in that very pool, overlooking the boardwalk.  Immediately the memories began washing over me.  I was watching Anthony,  Ed [Eddie Boy] and Francine frolicking but my brain was playing internal "movies" of Richard, Patricia and me.  I wanted a candy apple and the smell of the salty sea air.

Most of the DVD is my uncle's family at special events such as christenings and parades.  Even though my immediate family was not part of those events it was fascinating watching this time capsule of family history.  It was like watching scenes from Moonstruck but with people I know.  

"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." 

arthur c clarke

At about 1 hour and 40 minutes into the films the setting has changed to my grandparent's backyard in Jersey City and my grandmother leaning out of the window and speaking Italian.  The camera pans down and across and takes me with it.  My grandfather died in 1965 and my grandmother followed in 1967 so I think this must have been 1964.  The last time I was in that backyard couldn't have been past 1965 but it's so oddly familiar to me.  There is a fleeting glimpse of my father and then my mother.  Then other uncles and aunts.  

The setting is humble as my grandparents were not people of means.  They were warm and proud and had raised their four boys well.  The cast, my family, look like they should have been on the set of an early TV family sitcom.  The men were in button-down shirts and my father was buttoned even at the neck.  I never remember him any other way.  The women are polished, coiffed, pressed and poised.  There was my mother, as always, looking like a dark-haired Donna Reed with white enameled earrings and matching bracelet.  

Those of you who have been following my blog know that my father passed away in 1970 when I was ten years old and my mother has only been a shadow of herself for many years due to ever-advancing Alzheimer' disease.  My memories of my father are mostly sense-memories and those images we have on treasured slides and photographs.  Here they are in front of me, animated and captured in real-time.  

Within minutes and with tears down my cheeks the true treasure of my uncle's gadget is revealing itself to me.  My cousin is now "interviewing" the family.  It's Father's Day [how appropriate] and she asks my father what gifts he got and put the microphone towards his face.  Beaming with pride and love my father lists his gifts and I hear his voice for the first time since I was 10 years old.  I knew the voice instantly.  The next cut is to my mother who is talking with my aunt.  It was "mommy", fully animated with unmistakable speech pattern, intonation and gestures.  This was the woman I still see when I look in my mother's eyes and listen to her unintelligible uttering.

Never had technology meant more to me.  This was the most thoughtful and touching gift anyone could have given me.  We take modern technology for granted.  Even our cellphones can take videos.  I'm jealous that generations of people will  have collections of videos of their loved ones to watch when their memories' begin to fade.  I'm just thankful that my uncle had the cutting-edge technology of his day and that I have these 10, forgotten, minutes to treasure. 

TWO SCORE AND STILL SORE

I cannot remember ever hearing a bad story or derogatory remark about Pat.  Hardworking businessman, trustworthy friend, devoted family man, loving husband and doting father are some of the titles that he held.

.  

Two months after moving into the dream home that he built for his wife and family, at age 50, Pat was diagnosed with inoperable cancer. Three gruesome but mercifully short months later Pat was gone.  Physically removed but leaving behind his love presence in the lives of so many.

Forty years ago today

It was my uncle Vic's birthday, February 1, 1970 and he and his wife had taken me to a dog show to get me out of the house where my father lay so pathetically ill.  I was ten years old and although I knew he had cancer and was getting worse, no one had explained exactly how ill.  How much should you burden a young child with?  

I saw my uncle talking with a state trooper but I was distracted by the dogs being paraded everywhere I looked.  When the trooper left my uncle explained to me that my father had been taken to the hospital.  He offered me the choice of going home or staying at the dog show and I remember vividly saying that I didn't think they would let me in to see my father because I was only 10 years old.  In those days rules were different and for some reason I was aware of them.  I chose to continue my day out.

When we returned to their house my uncle and aunt were noticeably upset.  Vic sat me down in the bedroom for what must have been the most difficult task of his 40 years.  How do you tell a 10 year old that his father, the center of his world, had died?  

Although I hadn't seen him, the trooper had returned to the dog show to give my uncle the bad news.  Now it  was his charge to tell me.  For a few minutes the world stopped and when it restarted it had changed forever. We returned to my house which was filled with family and friends.  I have a vague memory of the sorrow but mostly I remember the awkwardness with which I was treated.  People just stared at me, whispered to each other and cried.  

My father had been the warmer of my two parents.  Although my mother was caring, my earliest memories are those of sitting on my father's lap, he fresh from the shower, wrapped in his red flannel robe and smelling of Old Spice, and him kissing me and singing to me in Italian.  

The only thing I wanted was the comfort of my mother, sister and brother.  It was so important to know that I wasn't alone.  I still had my immediate family and we were going to be OK

Now I am the age that my father was when he died.  I have sense memories of my father but most of my knowledge of him has come from others.  I know my father through folklore.  I have had the luxury of having my memories of him fixed in time.  We never had to go through the difficult years that my friends and their fathers had.  My parents' relationship was solid and frozen for eternity.  

There are important lessons to be learned about dealing with a child's loss and grief.  First and foremost is the assurance of stability, safety and love.  A few words might be necessary but demonstrable normalcy is the key.  The extended family was always together. Personally, for a long time after the loss of my father, I had the constant awareness that I was one parent away from being an orphan.

Second important element to healing is distraction. There was a family friend who made a special point of taking me out one evening a week to shoot a bucket of golf balls at a driving range.  I spent a lot of time with my friends.  My brother and his wife took me to their house for an occasional sleepover.  My mother introduced me to travel.  

Third is the amazing resilience of children.  Never underestimate a child's ability to comprehend and cope. Time is a skillful healer.  

FRIDAY NIGHT MEANS FAMILY NIGHT

As long as I can remember Friday nights have always been family night. When I was young it wasn't uncommon for 10 or more extended family members to join us at the kitchen table. My mother's sister Gloria [who lived with mom and me] would put on a feast. More friends and family would usually drop in later for coffee, dessert, gossip and nostalgia.

I loved Friday nights. The house was filled with love and fun and cousins to play with. The aroma of tomato sauce was inescapable. When you were there you knew you belonged. That's where and when I developed my loving relationship with food and cooking. I watched Gloria cook. I pitched in. I saw the look on everyone's faces as the food was being served.

Family night was always a deleted scene from MOONSTRUCK

Sure there was love and food and fun and strong ties to the past but don't think it was all smooth and congenial. Italian families, my family, don't work that way. Along with the niceties were the arguments, temperaments, gossip and scandals. No quiet bunch, this Clemente-Lanni clan!

And then there was the humor

Larger-than-life personalities seems to be genetic. When uncle George [Orlando] and his wife were in the house you knew there were going to be laughs. As a kid I had to miss a great deal of George's humor because I was sent out of the room with the other kids. I could hear the laughter coming from the kitchen and I sorely wanted to be in with the "grow-ups". George had colorful language. This was long before political correctness. George was our very own Richard Pryor or Red Foxx. There's a lot of George in me, at least my sense of humor.

Times change and family shrinks

Family members have fallen by the wayside and my generation is spread all over the place with kids of their own but I have continued the Friday family tradition. Sure most weeks there are only 4 or 5 of us but I cook family favorites and we sit around the table and yell and argue and reminisce.

Tonight's menu:

Pasta Fagioli [we say pasta "fazool"] *

Breaded chicken cutlet

Salad

Italian cheesecake

*recipe to follow