Family: A Mixed Bag

I spoke to my brother Vincent again today. This time we did not talk about wine. We talked about my renegade half-brother John a.k.a. Gino a.k.a. Giovanni a.k.a. Lucky. John changes names like others change underwear. Not long ago he served six months in a California detention center for cheating a 90-year-old woman out of her life savings. He is in jail again, and this time his son Ferrari is there with him. Lucky and Ferrari. Definitely sounds like a couple of gangsters. John may have adopted his current name because of his dealings with Mafia member "Lucky" Luciano in Las Vegas. John used to be a high roller in Vegas. He got free hotel rooms because he was a cash cow for the Mob. He gambled, smoked, and drank so much that the Mafia awarded him a plaque. I am so fortunate.

The other side of my family is much calmer. We have respectable restaurateurs, nurses, teachers, city mayors, corporate employees, and small business owners. One of my cousins furnishes Port-O-Potties for construction sites and all kinds of events. He says there is a lot of money in crap. He should know. He has prospered through crap. Like politicians, but in a different way.

Even on that side of the family we have one secret that nobody talks about. The skeleton in the closet is the Ku Klux Klan robe and hood that was found in my great-grandfather's attic after he passed away. Some said it was left there by a house guest, but why would a house guest be in Grandpa's attic?

Meanwhile, some of my friends are renewing their memberships in the Junior League and celebrating the fine breeding that allowed them to become Daughters of the American Revolution. If I did genealogy, I would spend a year finding out about my ancestors and two years trying to keep it quiet!