BENCHWARMER BLUES

About the Book

Growing up on the streets of Brooklyn, New York, a borough within a city that could be as coarse as sandpaper one day, and as smooth and inviting as silk the next day, provided some unique challenges for myself and a close circle of friends. Coupled with a decade as turbulent as the nineteen sixties made it necessary that we bond to one another like stamps to an envelope. In order to deal with our growing pains common to most teens, we looked to an older fellow for guidance and to accelerate the maturation process. George Fleischer, also known as Red Rheingold due to his fiery hair and penchant for Rheingold beer, was terribly easy to find as he generally planted himself on a park bench known to us all where he held court on a regular basis. Now there were two principle reasons why Red was our friend and mentor; he let us have an occasional beer though we were only fifteen at the time, three years younger than the legal drinking age, and he had a sexy, voluptuous lady friend who embodied the freedom that was evolving in the sixties. That's not to say she was responsible for any of us losing our virginity, but on a hot summer day she would come into the park, and the bright sunlight would filter through her dress revealing those parts of the female anatomy that males, especially teenagers, dream about. Of course, we owed these treats mostly to Red since it was his woman and he didn't mind that she titillated his young friends in such a manner. Clearly there was a co-dependent relationship between Red, who was nearing thirty, and the four of us who were half his age. We needed Red to embolden our egos while we filled the void as a substitute for the child and adult friends he lacked. While we were pre-occupied with athletics, girls and school respectively, Red was unemployed, though fairly comfortable financially due to investments and his mom. Not surprisingly he had several vices, chief amongst them gambling, both legal and illegal. The illegal variety necessitated that he consort with the unsavory characters in organized crime. Our parents, and other adults in the neighborhood, cast suspicious eyes on the man with flaming red hair who hung around in the park and fraternized with• kids half his age. The backdrop for this coming of age story for both myself and friends and, more importantly, Red, was Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, a place that still had a sense of togetherness not unlike a village, though it was changing with the advent of chain stores and high rise buildings. One could still have a splinter removed by the local pharmacist or chat endlessly with the tailor or haberdasher. Patronage at a neighborhood business was genuinely appreciated by the proprietor who often addressed you by your first name. Against this setting the narrative proceeds on two tracks exploring the bonds amongst four friends and their race to adulthood, and the events, both funny and tragic, as Red attempts to rid himself of his demons and assume the role of an adult that has eluded him for the first thirty years of his life. Critical to this process is Red's complicated relationship with his mom to whom he owes so much yet has remained only on the periphery of her life except when he needed her. This would come into sharp focus when Red's gambling habits place him in debt to the Shylocks who indirectly involve him in a crooked horse race and a suspicious death. Because of his proclivities for finding the easy way out, Red's girlfriend, the voluptuous Lavender, was also swept into the dangerous world of criminal activity. On one level or another, his four young friends, though trying to make sense of their own lives, were tangentially involved in Red's problems, especially Pauly whose dad was serving time for bookmaking. He had a special relationship with Red as surrogate father and son. Red would assist Pauly and his struggling mom financially and would offer the type of advice to his young friend that a father would impart to a son.

About the Author

As an English and psychology major working in the health and service related fields, I've been exploring my inner self through the poems and stories I've written. Divorced and the father of an eighteen year old daughter, I'm continually attempting, sometimes successfully, to offer her advice helpful in diminishing some of her insecurities. At the same time, there is an unusual amount of overlapping between her youthful penchant for living and my Woodstockian outlook. Residing in Jersey City with my cat, Milo, and my girlfriend, Bernice, I often look to them for guidance when the forks in the road are too many to choose.