Colin Quinn: The New York Story Page #4

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Cash. F***, this is what it is.

They looked at it like a Sicilian village.

Like they invented their neighborhood.

I mean, they respected the parish

to a degree, I guess.

But at some point, they try to make

the priest a frontman for their bazaar.

Hey, Father, were havin a thing

on Saturday down in the basement.

We need some foldin chairs.

But you dont gotta be around.

Leave him alone, stupid.

Hes gotta get up Sunday mornin.

He needs to get to bed early. Heres a few

dollars for the collection. Take care.

Everythings the collection plate.

Its a psychological thing

with them because, you know--

Milkman, give him a stick of butter.

Twenty bucks.

Theyre not makin money off it.

Theyre losing money.

Twenty bucks for a stick of butter.

Its some psychological thing.

They consider it, like,

Take care of the guy.

Take care. Its money, but its--

Take care. Mailman, take care of him.

But then you have to reciprocate.

So, if the mailman takes the 20,

then he has to treat you a little special.

He cant throw your mail in the puddle

like every other jerk-off on the block.

Hell ring the bell.

I took care of your letters.

Thank you. Know what I mean?

Cause if he doesnt do that,

then... enemy for life. Then, thats it.

Thirty years he can work.

Theyre like, Theres that mailman.

See how he likes deliverin letters with

broken fingers, this f***in mailman.

Never forgive.

Thats it. For the rest of your--

Guys lived on the block 40 years.

Hey.

Hear the guy across the street died.

Yeah, hes the one that stepped

on my wifes foot.

What goes around comes around.

Drunken Irish bastard that he was.

Hear the guy on the corner passed.

He suffered.

Hes the one who used to comb

his hair in the meat market. Let him rot.

Yeah, always vendetta.

They like the vendetta.

When theres nobody to fight,

they turn on the son.

The sons too big to fight now.

Hes grown up. He cant fight him.

Theyre heckling him, still trying

to embarrass him in front of the block.

Kids out washin the car.

Hes like, Look at him, washin the car.

Cant even wash his own ass yet,

this f***in ciuccio.

You missed the right rear hubcap,

you f***in meatball. Look at this kid.

Wash the car, f***in jamoke over here.

F***in ciuccio.

Half a momo I got for a son.

Half a momo. Which, I still--

I still dont know what that is.

Half a momo-- If its half a mamaluke,

which is an idiot.

Or half a homosexual,

or some combination of a--

It doesnt even matter.

'Cause the insult--

The fraction is the insult.

That--

Its whatever they say about you,

Im sayin youre half of that.

How do you like that?

Theyre scared of sh*t that doesnt scare

other people, not scared of sh*t that--

Come to the block beat up.

Get the bats. Were goin there now.

Everybody get the bats,

cause were going.

By the way, notice: Get the bats.

Not, Get some bats,

or, Do you have any bats around?

The bats. Theyre already pre-positioned,

under the stoop.

Ones behind the door.

Ones under the tree. On the curb.

Back of the guys trunk.

But they dont like new things.

Like when 70s yogurt started.

Hey, try this.

What is that? What is that?

No, its yogurt.

Is it all right? Get the f*** out.

F***in yogurts. F***in sick bastard.

Yeah. When they like you,

you know they like you.

They kiss you, hug you, smack you

in the face. Punch you in the stomach.

When they dont like you,

they dont touch you.

They touch themselves.

Right down the body.

He thinks-- Lets see whats goin on.

I dont say nothin to nobody.

Che palle. The balls on the f***in--

That was always the period.

When they spit.

Oh, they came, just about 1930.

Then the Puerto Ricans came

and brought the pace.

When I was a kid, I thought

Puerto Ricans were just speaking Spanish

because they speak so quickly.

But when you get to know Puerto Ricans,

you realize they dont speak Spanish.

They only speak English...

with a Spanish accent very quickly.

Thats New Yorican.

And they understand Spanish

'cause their parents speak it.

But they dont speak a word of it, but...

The Puerto Ricans came.

In those days,

a Puerto Rican building on the corner--

Now, people would be horrified.

We used to give directions based

on ethnicity.

Make a lef-- Irish bar, the Greeks,

the Chinese laundry.

The Puerto Rican building on the corner.

Now people go,

Whoa. How do you know

its a Puerto Rican building?

There are Puerto Ricans outside.

They say--

They say, What if theyre not outside?

Dont worry. Theyre gonna be outside.

The Puerto Ricans...

They brought the kind

of communal food festival,

kind of outside, inside,

no real distinction.

Outside, inside.

The TVs in the windowsill.

Its half inside, half outside.

The old ladys leaning.

Half her bodys there.

The musics inside,

but its blasting outside.

Theyre pulling a chair down on the rope

for the uncle to sit on outside.

The ironing boards inside. It comes out.

Now its a card table. Theres a fluidity.

All together all the time. Just social.

Everybody. Multigenerational.

Little kids. Old people.

Everybody hangs out together.

I never saw one Puerto Rican.

Just everybody together.

Goin up to the--

Theyre goin up to the park

like a carnival atmosphere.

They got the radio, the grill.

They got ice and chicken on sticks.

The bandanas and the flags

and the little kids dancing.

The old lady is dancin.

They got the mix of Catholicism

and sexuality.

A lot of cleavage with a lot of crosses.

They got the little girl

in the Communion dress holdin hands

with the aunt in the halter top.

The cousins driving next to them.

Six saints on the dashboard,

decal of a naked woman,

right next to each other.

The doors half open.

Hes half inside, half outside driving.

Yeah. Its all a continuity with them,

know what I mean?

You go to their house. You think

youre there as a guest for a party.

They put you to work.

They give you assignments.

Good. Youre here early. Check the stove.

Then... go see whats wrong with Grandpa.

He wont leave the room.

We cant get him out of the room.

Then walk the most frightening dog

youve ever met in your life.

Then change the baby. Change the baby.

Always the baby.

Change the baby. The baby--

Always baby-- Shes pregnant.

Her face is gettin fat.

I think her cheeks--"

People walk by. Theyre like sonograms.

Look, thats a boy. Shes carryin high.

They heckle you if you have one kid.

Wheres her brothers? Her sisters?

I dont understand whats goin on.

The babys the star of the family.

By the time youre eight,

in the Puerto Rican family,

youre washed up. It's over.

Eighth birthday, youre like,

Hey, happy birthday.

Okay. Change the baby.

Its the circle of life.

Then the black people came back

in the 1950s.

There were black people at the time

in Harlem, believe it or not.

There used to be black people in Harlem.

And...

I know its a shock. Listen to me.

1950s, black people came from down South.

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