May Angels Lead You In.

Throughout the week, I have been thinking about what I would write in this post. Where do I start? How should I phrase this? What if I forget something important? Last night, I decided I would wing it. This might not make sense to you at the moment, but once you reach the end, you will see why putting this post together was so important to me.

When I was younger, I was informed that my Aunt Anita, Uncle John, Aunt Angie and Joe-Joe were not actually related to me. I don't remember how old I was, or what spawned the topic of conversation. What I remember taking from that conversation was that just because they weren't blood relatives didn't mean they weren't my family. The unbreakable bond that holds us together is love.

When I was around the age of two, I tripped on our carpet and landed on the edge of the brick fireplace, gashing the area next to my eyebrow and part of my eyelid. Panic-stricken, my mother got ahold of Aunt Anita, who lived across the street. She rushed us to the pediatrician, then the hospital, where I got my stitches, courtesy of some plastic surgeon. Aunt Anita was there on my first day of kindergarten, as I boarded the bus and waved goodbye to my mother, who was witnessing one of the many milestones her baby girl would achieve. Oh, I should also mention that she was the one who arranged my mother's baby shower, while I was safely nestled in the womb, enjoying copious amounts of Carvel's chocolate soft serve ice cream - mom's favorite at the time. I could tell you stories for hours, but you get the idea - she's amazing, and she's my aunt.

Last Sunday, I called my mother. She was panicky, and was telling me she had to go, she was on the phone with Aunt Angie. I was worried, so I spoke with her firmly, and asked what was wrong. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. Everything was far from okay. My fourteen year old cousin, Dominic, had died. An accident on the jet ski. I froze, and told her to call me back. I knew the phone call on the other line was more important. As soon as I hung up the phone, I ran to my closet to put a proper change of clothes on. I didn't know where I would be going, but I knew that I wanted to be with my mom. I called Erich's job in a panic, telling him what I knew, and that I was going to my mom's. Before I walked out of the door, my mom had told me to just go to my Aunt Anita's house, she would meet me there.

As I arrived at the house, I had my sunglasses on, to hide my tears. Joe-Joe (I just call him Joe now) was outside with a few other relatives, and with Dominic's younger brother, John. I walked over, said hello quietly, and little John started talking to me about the ants on the walkway. I kneeled down, trying to hold back my tears, and explained about the ant hill, and told him to watch the ants walking through the cracks of the sidewalk. Matter-of-factly, he told me that this wasn't a sidewalk, it wasn't close to the street. At the tender age of three and a half, he corrected me. I said, you're right - this is a walkway, not a sidewalk. We looked at the flowers outside for a bit, then he grabbed my hand, and asked me to push him on the swings.

As I walked into the backyard and put him on the swing, I told him that when I was little, his grandma and grandpa had a swing set for us to play on. He said, "When you were three?" I smiled, for the first time in hours and said, "When I was three." He smiled, and seemed to be amazed that at one point, I too, had been three. I don't know how it happened, but I saw the back screen door slide open, and out came two of his cousins and his younger sister. I guess one of the adults heard me in the backyard, and knew they would be safe with me. I looked at all of their faces, realizing how much they had grown. With work, life, and everything else that had come up, I didn't see them often at all. I knew from that very moment, that I needed to be present in their lives.

When the skies became darker, I led the little ones inside and took them downstairs to the basement, which has been a play room for as long as I could remember. Many of the toys I played with were there, and I had a strong sense of nostalgia. I also thought of Dom immediately. When Dom's grandfather had passed away a few years ago, many of us retreated to the basement, just as we had when we were younger. Dom and I had formed a special bond at that time. When we were at the wake, he and I sat outside the room and talked. School, music, sports, food - we talked for hours. I also told him that I would take him to go see the new Miley Cyrus movie, Hannah Montana & Miley Cyrus: Best of Both Worlds Concert, just as long as his parents were okay with it. We had a blast at the movie, and I am so glad that we got to have the experience. As he got older, and grew out of this phase, I would often ask him how Miley was doing. He would make a face at me, and we would both smile. He knew I meant well, but I couldn't resist teasing him!

Whenever I had free time throughout the week, I made sure I was at my aunt's house to help out. I spent most of my time with the little ones, playing in the basement, along with help from other adults in the house. I told them each night that I was there, that we would have a pajama party in the basement. I figured with all of the chaos going on, I'd try to make this as positive as I could for the little ones. Going home at night was rough. Everything I held in during the day became uncorked when I came home. I would watch the news, think about things, and would search for songs for Dom. I don't know what I would have done without Erich. He held me as I cried, listened to my stories about Dom, and rubbed my back when I was having trouble sleeping.

Erich and I attended the wake in the afternoon, because he had to work that night, and I was watching the little ones that night. As soon as I walked into the room, it really hit me. This was really happening. My cousin Lisa must have seen the look in my eyes, because she came right over to me and hugged me. I broke down in her arms. As she held me, she told me that since I had been so strong and so busy, it was finally real to me. She was right. As I knelt in front of my cousin, I prayed to God to make sure he took care of him and made sure he was safe. I told Dom that I loved him so much, and that I missed him terribly. I told him that I was helping with the little ones, and that I would make sure to be there for them. At the evening portion of the wake, over 1,000 people came, waiting in line for hours to pay their respects, and to share stories of Dom. At the young age of fourteen, he touched so many lives.

The line outside of O.B. Davis - it was down the side street, too.
Photo Credit: Frankie Daloia.

Waiting patiently in line to honor Dominic. Beyond grateful to all of you.
Photo Credit: Frankie Daloia.

The following day was sad, but we were all together as a family. In the church, Lisa's son Matthew wanted to sit in my lap, and I started to cry as I held him. I told him that I loved him, and he hugged me back, and said, "I love you too, Shelly." Those beautiful babies, my gosh. If it weren't for them, I honestly don't know how I would have gotten through the week. In a time of sadness, I was also surrounded by love and joy. The little hugs, sloppy kisses, and calls for "Micheley," to either bring them upstairs to go potty, or to get them a cookie - they were truly my saving grace this week. Dominic's cousin Vincent also led his cousins to the altar, while he gave a wonderful speech they had prepared the night before. It was funny, heartwarming and beautiful - just like Dominic. How blessed we were to have him in our lives!

My mother wrote a poem that brought comfort to me, and I would like to share it. 

I asked God, God why did you take Dom from us so soon. Such a young soul with so many things left to do. So many dreams still undone. God, how will we get through this pain, the emptiness in your heart, the darkness in our world. He was our joy, our laughter, our shining star that lights our world. God told me, “Dom had a wonderful life here on earth and his work here on earth is done. I have important work for Dom here in heaven that cannot wait. You have seen how he has touched so many lives here on earth, well here in heaven he will be able to reach so many more souls that need his tender touch, his joy, his love. He will light the way for others in need.”But God we love him, we miss him. What are we to do without him? God laughed at me and said “Look around you, his sprit is all around you. He will live on through all of you, through the memories you share. Do not cry for he is safe and happy to be here with me. You will all see him again when the time is right.”- cg

Although I am still sad, I have made it a point to smile, laugh and find the beauty in life this week - after all, that is what Dom would want me to do. Friday night at dinner, I laughed so hard, and truly enjoyed myself for the first time in a week. I have a great story from dinner, involving my uncle and a biscuit, but i'll save that for another day. It was a memory made and Dom definitely would have found it amusing. 

Why, Michael Bay? Why?

Dear Mr. Bay,


I heard from various news outlets today, that you are taking on the project of the next Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles film. When I heard that, I was stoked! Armageddon was awesome, and the Aaron Burr: Got Milk? commercial was genius - I even showed that to my 11th graders when I was student teaching. What you did with Transformers was great, although Revenge of The Fallen and Dark of The Moon could have had better plots, and you should have kept Megan Fox, even if she was annoying the shit out of you... alright, I'm getting a bit off track here. 


Then, like a silent fart, bitch slapping our olfactory systems without warning, you stunned us all with these words.



Michael Bay talks Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles by stuffwelike


Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, as lovable aliens? Lovable? Absolutely. Aliens? Sorry, the only lovable aliens I'm down with are ALF, Data, E.T., Mork, Spock and a handful of characters from Star Wars. 


Did you not notice the word mutant in their description? Have you not read the comic books, watched the animated series, or any of the movies (even though, I will admit, most of the films were subpar)?


I looked up the words mutant and mutation, to make sure I wasn't going crazy.


mutant (noun): of, relating to, or produced by mutation : a significant and basic alteration: change; a relatively permanent change in hereditary material involving either a physical change in chromosome relations or a biochemical change in the codons that make up genes;


Nope, not going crazy.


I know, you're a Hollywood bigwig, you can do whatever you'd like. But who is the goon from the studio that said this was alright? This is worse than any movie remake or sequel. I guess because it was Michael Bay who suggested it, they decided that kissing your rear was worth raping and pillaging one of the coolest parts of the late 80s/early 90s. I'm a girl, and I loved TMNT. It was one of the few things I actually agreed on with my younger brother. I even made sure he didn't destroy his action figures, because I told him that one day, they might be worth something. Those action figures? Still safety nestled in his childhood bedroom, in their special TMNT carrying case. Most of his other toys? Maimed beyond recognition - hey, that sounds like exactly what you're going to do with this film!


Others have spoken out across the internet, but I'm sure we will all be ignored for what Hollywood wants. Why? Because you will probably add a plethora of fancy CGI effects and get the hottest celebrities on board for the film, and clueless morons will still see it, regardless of how far off the storyline is. I, for one, won't be there. If this hits theaters with the turtles as aliens, I won't watch any more of your films. If you're going to fuck with my childhood, I'm not putting a cent back into your greedy Hollywood pocket. This might seem crazy to some, but your storyboard ideas for this film are even crazier.


Please, do the world a favor. Don't turn the turtles into aliens. Giorgio Tsoukalos wouldn't do that, and he and Stephen Hawking are the only two dudes who can pull the alien card.


Sincerely,
Michele Falcone


P.S. - If they're aliens, then they're technically not turtles anymore, either. 

Childhood Crushes and Davy Jones.

As a small child, I had countless crushes. Before I turned ten, I daydreamed that I would marry Scott Baio, John Stamos, Mark-Paul Gosselaar, Emilio Estevez, even Paul McCartney. Michael J. Fox and I had the same initials - he was my density (if you don't get that, please stop what you are doing and watch  Back To The Future  - immediately). I also fell in love with The Monkees - a late 60s television show, featuring legit musicians (although for aesthetic purposes, the musicians had to learn different instruments in order to make the lineup more appealing to the masses). 


The Monkees were Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork. I had a collective crush on all of the band members, which could also explain why most of the guys I've dated were skinny musicians, each with a unique sense of style. I wasn't born when the show was in its prime, but thanks to MTV and Nickelodeon, the show made a comeback in 1986.

Credit: The Monkees official website

Sadly, on February 29, 2012, Davy Jones died of a heart attack in Stuart, Florida (the same town where my teenage self would drive aimlessly, in order to clear my cluttered mind). I waited a few days to post this, because I knew the internet would be flooded with posts regarding Jones' life and legacy. In fact, I thought about forgoing a post about this, because I didn't want this to be something that no one bothered to read.


Then, last night, I heard that my younger cousin, Marissa, had just discovered The Monkees, in wake of Jones' passing. She made a comment to her mom, stating that she thought he was cute. Ah, a girl after my own heart. Its funny, because I only recently reconnected with this part of my family, but its like she's a mini-midge, only eighteen years my junior. My cousins sat in the living room at my mother's house, The Monkees marathon blaring from the television, as they took turns working out on my mom's exercise bike. I don't know what the fascination was with the bike, but three of them took turns breaking a sweat, then complaining to the adults that they were sore. I told them to stretch, but I doubt they were listening to me. 


As I drove home, I thought about  how much I loved watching The Monkees as a child, dancing around to   the music, laughing at the situations the gents got themselves into. How could I not pay tribute? 


The clips below are from The Brady Bunch episode, Getting Davy Jones, which aired in 1971, and Last Train To Clarksville, which aired on The Monkees in September 1966 - gems I was able to feast my eyes on, thanks to the beauty of syndication.

Thank you, Davy Jones, for making so many people sing and smile. I will leave you with a fitting excerpt from Michael Nesmith's Facebook page, regarding the passing of his former bandmate and lifetime friend:

...let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. 

While it is jarring, and sometimes seems unjust, or strange, this transition we call dying and death is a constant in the mortal experience that we know almost nothing about. I am of the mind that it is a transition and I carry with me a certainty of the continuity of existence. While I don’t exactly know what happens in these times, there is an ongoing sense of life that reaches in my mind out far beyond the near horizons of mortality and into the reaches of infinity.

The David has stepped beyond my view causes me the sadness that it does many of you. I will miss him, but I won’t abandon him to mortality. I will think of him as existing within the animating life that insures existence. I will think of him and his family with that gentle regard in spite of all the contrary appearances on the mortal plane.

David’s spirit and soul live well in my heart, among all the lovely people, who remember with me the good times, and the healing times, that were created for so many, including us.

I have fond memories. I wish him safe travels.