Ever hear of this TV show called “The Locator?” Some guy named Troy gets letters from people looking for long-lost friends — or, worse, their REAL families. I’m wonderin’ what would happen if I gave this guy a call and made like my real family gave me up after I set a nun’s veil on fire. “Y’see, Troy, I have this desire to CONNECT.”
I could just imagine what happens next: Troy goes on da hunt, then meets me at Satin Dolls and says, “I found your family!”
Not only that, he has a video of one of their Christmas dinners.
I can see it now: 7 fish, zeppoli, pastry, nuts — er, my family. Only what are they doing? They reenacting the “Threepenny Opera.”
There’s my brother singin’ “Mack the Knife.” One of my sisters is cuttin’ hair. The other one is dressed like some putan from the Third Reich!
You been to the Met lately? Cause if you have, you either know a guy, found a guy, or skimmed off your 401K.
I consider myself one o’ them eclectic types. Rock, blues, jazz — I also loves me some tango. I appreciate fine art, abstract.
But I can still kick back with blue collars. And that’s one of the reasons I can’t stand pretension. I mean, let’s get real, folks: Even Anderson Cooper has a sense of humor. Sort of.
Once in a while you have to take the stick out. You might even enjoy hangin’ with the little folk — we’re all just members of the Lollipop Guild lookin’ for a little height.
The world is tough enough, no? And since the recession or depression (shhhhhhh) or whatever it is that set in, life’s been a bitch.
Think of when your wallet was whole. You’d drive through Chelsea, past all the foo-foo clubs with the foo-foo girls in their little black dresses and Gucci bags waiting to get past the velvet rope.
You still see ‘em now, but their dresses are smaller and their come si chiams are all hangin’ out, while they clutch their knockoff bags and wave signs that say “Will date for food!” at the cars going by.
My family has never been to the opera. You want melodrama, come on over and open a few bottles of vino. However, this doesn’t make them less than anyone else.
And anyone who wouldn’t want to hang with these honest, hard-working and welcoming folks must be covering up some type of dysfunction. That’s probably why they hide in the orchestra pit.
I’m not to proud to say I have champagne taste on a beggar’s budget. Sure, I loves me some Crème Brulee — but every now and then I get a wicked craving for a Devil Dog.
“We can never judge the lives of others, because each person knows only their own pain and renunciation,” someone once wrote. “It’s one thing to feel that you are on the right path, but it’s another to think that yours is the only path.”
I just happen to like things the way they are. Wouldn’t want to change ‘em.
So excuse me if I can picture me reaching across the table and grabbing Troy by his starched shirt collar.
Then imagine me looking him dead in the eye and saying: “Tell them you couldn’t find me!”
The fat lady has sung!!!
Reviewers have raved about Maryann’s music & standup. She’s opened for Joy Behar and Ray Romano, and has played The Laugh Factory, Broadway Comedy Club and Dangerfield’s. She has a CD out and will be featured on Danny Aiello’s upcoming album, “City of Light.” Judging from the looks of the packed houses, she’ll also be staging plenty more performances with the ITALIAN CHICKS, whose show has been called “part meatball, part cannoli.” For more on Maryann, the group, where they’re performing & how to get tickets, click here: ITALIAN CHICKS. Tell ‘em CLIFFVIEWPILOT sent you.