Just because you’re in Special Ed. don’t mean you

can’t get a Regents diploma.

Dat’s what dey told me.

My special Ed teacher, Ms. T.

(she’s in the room I goes to for extra help)

and the Aid-lady, Mrs. Milano,

her kids in there too,

Both them ladies said I can still get a Regents diploma

so, someday, I can go to Junior College and become a plummer,

or whateva’ !

Even if I ain’t so sure what Regents is,

my Uncle Carlo…

well, he ain’t really my Uncle.

He’s my mom’s first cousin, or whateva’….,

he tells me, “Frankie, get a regents

so no one should call you “Stupid!”.

But, ya see, I’m already on the payroll with Uncle Carlo.

That’s my job since last year, when I was a Sophamore,

which, according to Uncle Carlo, means “Wise-Fool”.

He’s my boss.

He ain’t The Big Boss,

but he’s my boss,

so if he tells me at Coney Island when all of us goes to the beach there

on account of we can’t go to Orchard Beach in the Bronx

cause there’s a war on there… ya know, family business…

so if he tells me to jump off’a the pier ,

I jump.

Clothes and all…

maybe I leave my piece and wallet with my girl friend, Angela.

But I jump!

So I’m getting a Regents ’cause Uncle Carlo don’t hire stoopid’s!

That’s my introduction paragraph.

So, here’s my essay-body.

We had to read an article from some Staten Iland paper,

The Mirror, I think,

and then write about it.

Tell what we thought about what that article said.

And, der was this second article in there about the same thing as the first

but I didn’t have to read no Second Article

cause I knew already what I thought.

It’s a scam!!!

The first article’s called, WINE MAKER IN STATEN ISLAND CONSIDERS EXPANSION.

Now they ain’t got to many wine makers in Staten Island, I guess…

I got no clue…

But anyway, this new wine place – DON’T USE NO GRAPES!!!

Yeah! Crazy, right?

They use what they say is “grape-concentrate”,

like some OJ says, “from concentrate on the container…”

So this is wine from grape concentrate,

“sold in plastic bottles, in some local Mom and Pop liquor stores and deli.”

(That quote was from the Mirror in the article.)

Now, ya figure it would be cheaper than regular wine in glass bottles.

But! It ain’t!!

This is a new thing! So it’s a big deal!!!

So it costs more. Much more than so-so wine in glass bottles.

And these guys are trying to go national.

First east coast. Well, actually just in the City.

But, (and here’s the scam part)!

THE CONCENTRATE AIN’T GRAPES!

It’s just some mix of stuff like what they make Nite-Quil outa!!!

with a little sugar-water and food coloring

to ease-up the hit you get when you drink the sht… stuff.

It’ll still put you to sleep after a few drinks, with even a little buzz,

But it ain’t wine!

But it cost’s way more in the store…like in a “mark-up” or something…

than what it costs to make, even including the plastic bottles.

So, it’s a big pay off!!

So long as no one knows what’s up!

(this test is confidential, right? So I can trust you not to say nothing, Right?)

Now,

How do I know this deal is a scam?

Well, my boss, my Uncle Carlo,

his bosses guy got a call all the way from these Staten Island wine guys

to the warehouse just off’a Tremont Avenue

(that’s in the Bronx if you didn’t know)

where my uncle’s boss hangs out with his guys and holds meetings

with all the lower bosses like my Uncle Carlo..

(Hay! BTW! Did you know that 4 out of the 5 borrows of the City is Islands?

Yeah!! Manhattan’s a island!

Brooklyn and Queens is part of some long island….somehow…

And Staten Island is an island!

But not The Bronx!

Nope! Cause we’re connected!)

So the Staten Island guy who made the call says

this is an invite to Uncle Carlo’s Boss

to invest some dough into this pony wine going national and to New York City

and maybe use his connections (or what-eva)

to help with some big drug and food govament guy that’s holding them up.

So Uncle Carlo gets a call from his boss…

(Sorry, but I ain’t gonna put HIS NAME in my composition

you understand, right?)

Well, I’ll tell ya just to be sure there ain’t no miss understandings…

Some guy, another cousin, but not in Carlo’s family, he’s from Carlo’s bosses family,

ya follow me, right?

Anyway, he made that mistake

…once.

But they didn’t off him or nothing…

They just sliced his ankle tendons…

(Akillies, I think, after some Greek hit-man who’s mother was supposed to drown him

but she couldn’t let go… or something like that…)

Anyway, the stupid snitch can’t walk so good no more,

but they didn’t fire him or or nothing like that.

He just sits in his wheel-chair outside the Tremont Avenue warehouse,

shine or rain,

and guards the door and gets the mail when it comes at 2PM.

The mail guy hands him the mail. Never puts it in a box…

The Big Boss thinks it’s safer that way.

See? Like I said, he can’t walk so good no more but he can still shoot!

So, long story long, the Big Boss tells my Uncle Carlo, “Go.”

So we go.

Uncle Carlo, four other guys and me, we hop into one of the meat vans and drive all the way,

cross the the Wilson Ave. Bridge into Manhattan, down 2nd Avenue to cross the Brooklyn Bridge,

drive all the way along 4th Avenue to Bay Ridge, cross the Verrazano to Staten Island

where the fony wine place is.

See, Uncle Carlo don’t like the Highways in the city.

He always “takes the senic root!”

“It’s safer,” he says. “Lotta road rage out there…”

But I digress.

Me and the other four guys we’re dressed in like regular street clothes…

but not Uncle Carlo. Cause this is business.

He gets into the front passenger seat, dressed all swave-like,

a gray sharks skin suit like Stallone in Tulsa.

ya seen it?

Sometimes my uncle talks like Sly…

It’s part of his schtick……

He loves Stallone!

He says, “Sylvester Stallone is the greatest-utility-infielder-actor of all time!”

(Ever see Sly in that Jimmy Hoffa flick, F.I.S.T.?

Yeah? So’s you get what he means…

So we get to the wine place under that bridge you go over to Jersey from Staten Island.

By the docks…. Gothels… yeah… that’s it.

and we knock, all polite-like and we walk in

and their guys show Uncle Carlo around,

Uncle Carlo all polite and interested, like Sly on a business trip

and then, naturally, he says, “Well, I gotta talk to my Boss.”

So the wine guys get all disappointed and pissed off

like they expected My Uncle to seal the deal

but the four of our guys step up next to Uncle Carlo,

cause they’re the Muscle

and I’m standing by the exit door

and the wine guys back off and Uncle Carlo says, all Sly-like,

“You’ll be hearing from us, soon….”

and we back out the door, me last cause I’m expendable

and we drive back to the Bronx.

And it’s like 12:30 AM already in the morning,

so for sure the Big Boss is asleep

so I go home and eat my supper Mom makes, Lazagna with meat sauce, it’s real good!

And Mom wants to talk but I don’t say nuthin’ xsept that I gotta skip school tomorrow

and she sighs and says, “OK, go to bed.”

But I can tell she’s still worried for me…..

And the next morning I’m at the warehouse

and I hear the Big Boss tell Uncle Carlo,

“No! We are certainly not going to align ourselves with those Philisteens!

Artificial wine in plastic bottles, Indeed!

Send them a bottle of good Chianti, Carlo.

Perhaps they will appreciate the irony!”

(The Big Boss talks funny like that, mostly.)

And all the other guys laugh but I think half of them don’t know

what the Boss is talking about!

But I learned about Irony from Ms. T in Special Ed. English so I appreciate it a lot!

I figure it’d be a good idea to use Irony in my Regents Essay.

So that’s my essay.

I think you should give me a good grade.

I think that cause you’s guys ain’t stupid…

Am I right?

PS. I think the whole thing was a set up to wack the Big Boss in Staten Island so’s the wine guys could take over The Bronx. But he didn’t bite. And he didn’t go! He sent Uncle Carlo instead. And I said so to Uncle Carlo but he just looks at me and rolls his eyes. And then his face gets all dark and nervous like and he looks around like he thinks somebody’s near and could hear….

And then he says, lookin’ at me, all nose to nose like Stallone, ….

without irony,

” Don’t be stupid.”