“At the line of scrimmage:
Gino Marchetti: Fatso, what defense we playing?
Art Donovan: the same one we been playing the last five years you stupid wop!”
That’s how we all talked in the 30s and 40s in my old Boston neighborhood.
There was no violence and everyone got along just fine.
.
“That’s how we all talked in the 30s and 40s in my old Boston neighborhood.
There was no violence and everyone got along just fine.”
That was back before half the country was conditioned to be perpetually aggrieved about something.
Our county was Scottish or English pale white or African dark.
The closest we came to an Italian was a can of Chef Boyardee from the grocery store.
But everyone minded their manners and everything was fine.
There was the occasional fist fight but once it was over it was over.
I was related to half the county so it didn’t make sense to stay mad at kinfolk.