Rather than keep going inside to relieve myself, I simply pee off the deck onto some red Canadian mulch. I'm not harming any plants or trees.
When I was about three years old, as part of my potty training, I would pee off my Nonni's second-floor porch. They would all make a big fuss and clap for me. Mrs. Da Mazzo, the Sicilian landlord, would have put a curse on all of us if she knew what was going on.
In Nonni's apartment, it was always a trip. Everyone was always there. My parents, aunts, uncles, a slew of cousins, and lots of macaroni or homemade ravioli.
The young children were all at the kid's table, and our plates were prepared by our mothers. The main table had huge platters of meatballs, sausages, braciola, and macaroni. We never called it pasta. There was macaroni on Sundays and spaghetti on weekdays.
The pungent aroma of Locatelli cheese, when grated onto the macaroni, made it one of the best reminders of my childhood. Today parmigianao cheese is all the rage. That was for the rich Northern Italians back in the day.
It seemed everyone was yelling at the same time. Even the kids. It was not yelling at all. Everyone wanted to be heard, and the din was sometimes deafening.
I don't remember if politics was discussed. I tend to doubt it. More likely, it was about Rocky Marciano, Joe DiMaggio, or the great Mickey Mantle or Willie Mays.
Who was better? DiMaggio or Mantle? Mantle or Mays?
We never said grace…except on Thanksgiving. Religion wasn't a big thing for us, except my mother insisted on sending us to Catholic school, to great criticism. Why pay for that? Why waste money. Public school was free, and all the Jewish kids attended it, and many of them became lawyers or doctors.
My grandparents didn't drink wine at dinner. My grandfather poured half a glass of Coca-Cola and half water, no ice. What kind of a Sicilian was he?
Everyone is gone now. Of course, all the grandparents and parents have passed, and now four first cousins. The memories will always be there.
I know I'm in the first row, and I wonder if my kids will have great memories of our fabulous Italian dinners on Sundays and holidays. I hope so.
Excuse me. I must go pee off the deck again.
