In the Mafia, you're not allowed to retire. You're in until you're dead, as this 96-year-old recently arrested mobster proves. At an age where he's lucky to be alive, he was still out making threats and running rackets. I'm sure he had the assistance of younger thugs, but still, you've got to hand it to the guy. No one ever raged against the dying of the light quite like this. Through his life experience, he is a living time capsule of the American Mafia. He was a boy during the alleged 1919 World Series fix engineered by Arnold Rothstein (the architect of modern organized crime), was middle-aged during the heyday of the mob in the 40s and 50s, and was an aging gangster in the 90s when John Gotti was taken down. Like many his age, he retreated to Florida, as Myer Lansky did when he grew older (there's a great photo in the book "Tough Jews" of an older Lansky walking his dog), but his retirement was not what it was for the rest of the senior citizens in Florida. It involved all of his old gangland activities, with no accomodations made for his old age. The Feds finally got him, but he might not make it to trial.
After a quiet holiday, I'm coming back out this weekend. Tomorrow night I'll be at Entre Nous to help Sharon celebrate her birthday. I'm sure Larry B. will play some 80s metal for us to celebrate properly. On New Year's Eve, I'll be at Bound and Entre Nous' joint bash. With my usual date currently out of commission, it looks like I'll be on my own. I might be running into an ex (the one who thought my name was Katie the last time I saw him), but I'll have plenty of friends to keep me occupied, even if some of them, like Dolphy, Angie and Jennifer, won't be there. Will anyone be there to kiss me at midnight?
On a positive note, I've been writing. I actually spent a good part of today writing, and not just blogging. I also found a writing group, and got some very helpful comments from them on a story I've been working on. Smart creative people are so hard to find, and I found a group of them. Sometimes the forces of luck smile on me. Not in the field of love, but in other ways.