Christmas Eve, 1966….It was a cold and snowy Saturday…..so snowy in fact that there were near blizzard conditions, and “thunder snow”…..something I’d never seen before. I was out delivering bread that day with my godfather, Uncle Frankie, and looking forward to the eventual evening’s feast of fish…..which, since I was only 15 at the time, still hadn’t grown to appreciate. In fact, I still don’t. It never made any sense to me how anyone could make a salad out of seafood that gave off an odor so foul that it lingered in the house for days! But…well, that’s neither here nor there!

Part of the evening’s tradition involved the eventual visit from Santa Claus. Now, you’re probably thinking, “….if you’re 15 at the time, you can’t possibly still believe in Santa?” Well no, I didn’t….but I still had my kid sister and my cousin that did…..and even if they didn’t, it was still something of an event when Santa came to the house. A cowbell would clang, someone would rush in screaming, “…I hear banging on the roof….I think he’s here…..it’s Santa”…and then Santa himself, or someone in a Santa outfit would scurry in…bellowing in his best “ho ho ho”….practically throwing our gifts at us so as not to be identified by us wiseass kids. After all, you didn’t want the kids to identify which of the older cousins was playing Santa…that would spoil the fun! Besides, everyone by then knew it was either one of my uncle’s nephews Tommy or Joey. C’mon, who where they kidding? You couldn’t pull anything over on the wiseass kids from East 4th St.!

But that year, Tommy and Joey, and my Uncle….collectively known at the “Reindeer Club”…were all snowed in! Uncle Frankie had the Santa outfit in a closet a block away…Tommy and Joey….well, who the hell knew where they were, and that night it was still snowing so hard, they would never have made it out anyway. This presented a problem…..who was left to distribute the toys to the kids? You guessed it…..me….all of 115 lbs soakin’ wet! And the real cool thing was that now I’d get to be a part of that elite group known as the “Reindeer Club”. Not that it had any special privileges or anything….it was sort of a “coming of age”…..like a bar mitzvah, only for goyim! “Today you are a man…..just don’t tell your cousins who’s playing Santa!” That was the initiation….I think they do something like this when they initiate you into the mob!

Anyway, once we trudged through the snow, and made it to my Uncle’s apartment, I was outfitted with the Santa suit. 4 pillows later and a lot of eye makeup to make me look scary enough so that the kids wouldn’t get too close to me…and we were off! Dashing through the snow….without the one horse open sleigh….exposed to the elements…and the Ave U wiseasses who took the opportunity to bust my chops wanting to know what Santa had in the bag for them. I could have said something like “o’gotz”, but that wouldn’t have been too Santa-like…so I let Uncle Frankie handle it.

First stop was Grandma’s apartment over the bakery. The usual characters were there… aunts, uncles, cousins, and my biggest pain in the ass cousin….Dominick, who I thought was gonna heave up a lung when he saw me….that’s how loud he laughed! But the best reaction was the one Grandma had...sheer terror, as she cowered in her chair gazing up at this figure that, to her, looked like the grim reaper, all the while saying in Italian….”chi e’ sandi claus?" (Who is Santa Claus?) There was no way I was going to convince her it was me.

It was easy to convince the group in the next round…..they were a little bit older…..my Aunt Grace, and O’ Zi’ who lived upstairs from us. Aunt Grace had a voice like sheet metal being ripped…..”ohhh, is that Ray Ray”…..she kept saying over and over between puffs of a Pall Mall.

But the real acid test came next…..downstairs….the Rossi house….and this was “showtime”, because here is where the kids were! One bad move and Santa would have been outted. Uncle Frankie kept going over the line with me……..”no, it’s ho, ho, ho (deeper), and whatever you do, don’t look at any of the kids, ‘cause they’ll know who you are.”

So in we go, Uncle Frankie ringing the cowbell, somebody else screaming, “...he’s here, he’s here”, and in I go. Chrissy, Frankie Boy, who gets a bike, who gets a doll, bam, bam, bam….who’s laughing, and all the while I’m worrying that my “ho ho hos” would be adequate. I’d say we were in and out in 2 minutes! We had thieves in the neighborhood that would have stayed longer!

I’d like to tell you that Santa would have hung around for the traditional milk and cookies before being whisked away by the reindeer and the sleigh….but that wasn’t to be. It was a 63 Pontiac that took him away….ever so slowly back to Uncle Frankie’s and Aunt Fran’s to shed the Santa suit…so that I could return to my life as a 15 year old and maybe get a piece of my mother “migliaccio” (cheese cake) before everyone else glommed it!

Erasmo doesn’t live here anymore!

When my grandmother was still alive, it didn’t take much for us kids to get under her skin. And whenever she was at the breaking point, her favorite refrain would be said in her best broken English, “…..I go Eetaleee eh no comma backa no mo’”, or loosely translated, “I’m going back to Italy and the hell with all of you”….or words to that effect.

Well, were she to go back, (and she did for a short vacation back in 1963), she’d have found a vastly different place than the one she left behind in 1928!

I too have had that same feeling…..I’ve been there too…..although I didn’t have to go to “Eetaleeee”as she would have put it, but to “Brook-ah-leen”, which is a short ride from Manalapan, but may as well be a world away!

Not long ago, when visiting the eye doctor, just to satisfy my curiosity, I passed through what I lovingly refer to as “the neighborhood”….that place I left behind 21 years ago to raise my little girl in the bucolic setting of Central Jersey. I look for the people I left behind, the little kid I used to take to Pizza Park…the guy who used to work long hours in the bakery…the wannabe wise guys hanging out by the social club. Kids hanging out on the “corner”. Pizza Park’s still there, but there’s no sign of the wise guys…the kids…..nothing! I guess I should have known….even the Sopranos moved to suburbia!

Actually, I knew I was in a different place when I came upon 3 kids hanging out on a street corner…..members of a “rainbow coalition” if you will…..2 African-American youths and a white boy. How odd it all seemed! Because that coalition on that very street corner would have gotten someone killed just 25 short years ago! "Yes, the neighborhood’s not the same"…..I said to myself with a chuckle!

So now I’m thinking, “there has to be somebody left….” sort of like the ‘last of the Mohecans”. Ahh, no such luck……no “Jimmy the Butcher”, “Charlie the Barber”..gone, replaced by an Israeli fruit vendor….Bennie the Bum, Peg Leg Artie, all having a cup of coffee in that great candy store in the sky...and the candy store itself is now a “cheap charlie’s” kind of a place! Jeez! And our bakery? Well, that didn’t make the cut either! It’s now an upscale clothing store! Well, we knew it wasn’t gonna last anyway. The only thing the new arrivals bought was an occasional piece of yeast to make their own bread. You gotta figure that went over well with my grandmother, as she'd get up from her chair, lumbering over to the counter….cursing under her breath in Italian. “What, they can’t they at least buy a couple of rolls?”

No, it’s pretty much all gone….except for the memory. And even though there’s a bit of melancholy whenever I go there, I always take some delight in the knowledge that it will always be a big part of who I am….despite the luxury condos and upscale clothing stores! Come to think of it, even the place that’s become my adopted hometown has grown beyond anything I would ever have thought it would.

Who knows. Eventually when I become a North Carolina guy, New Hampshire guy, Delaware guy, or God forbid, even a Florida guy, I know that when I make the trip to my new old haunt, I’ll bemoan the fact that Gordon’s Corner Road has become Interstate 395!

The Little Girl is Gone

I talk to a lot of dads of little girls and listen to them tell me stories of how they’re the “man” in their little girls’ lives. And there’s no better feeling than being just that.
But there eventually comes a day when you as the “man” are replaced by the man who will ultimately take her hand and (hopefully) spend the rest of his life with her. That day came this past week.

Actually it started during the Giants/Cardinals game during a commercial. What better way is there for men to bond than during a football game….and what better time is there to pop the question than during a “time out”. When I was asked by my daughter’s boyfriend, “…I need to ask you something when the ladies aren’t around”, I guess you could say I saw it coming. And what was that thing that I saw?

All those years flashed before my eyes. Like when I remember my daughter’s birth..and how in shock I was at witnessing it….and how, when I had my mother-in-law on the phone, I said to her, “…and she looks just like you!” Ok, I was in shock, what do you want from me?
There was the time, when she was one year old and I thought she could brave one of the water slides at Busch Gardens down in Tampa. I held her on my chest as we went barreling down the slide thinking all the while, “…oh boy, I’m gonna wind up drowning this kid”….only to hit the water and have my daughter squeal with glee! I could never forget her chasing after seagulls on Clearwater Beach, and her fascination with them…calling out to them, “buhd…buhd”…which was her way of saying “bird”.

Too many other things flood my mind. Taking her to the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, “Tire Park” on Shore Road, bringing her to school in the morning with her friends, checking out colleges, and finally her moving into her own place in Hoboken.

I look for that kid, and all I see is the woman she’s become….and the lucky guy that will have her as part of his family in the very near future.

If you happen to be one of those dads…..you’ll never need a camera, a diary, or anything like that to document any of it. It will be embedded in your brain….just like all of those moments are embedded in my brain. It’s a great feeling to live through all of them….and if you’re lucky, you’ll recognize them for what they are and appreciate the fact that you too will be wondering, one day, where did that little girl go?

Many Thanks to the Jersey Guys' Audience

You made it happen! And we, along with hundreds of families of breast cancer survivors, couldn't be happier!

Because of you, the Tour for a Cure 2008 was a huge success. Four weeks, four malls....phenomenal turnout at each stop, and lots of heartfelt stories of how one of the most insidious types of cancer has affected the lives of many New Jersey families.

The Tour may be over.....at least for this year, but we know the battle rages!

Again, many thanks to the merchants and customers of the Monmouth Mall, Freehold Raceway Mall, QuakerBridge Mall, and Bridgewater Commons for hosting our tour and supporting us on our journey.

Hopefully we won't have to have a tour in 2009....but we look forward to your continued support. More to come!

God bless you if you’re a nurse……

You never know how much you appreciate the people that make up a particular profession until you really need them. Remember back in the day when you’d see bumper stickers that read, “Next time you’re being robbed, call a hippie!”

Well, if I wore a hat, I would tip it to anyone in the nursing profession! They truly do the the work of God here on earth. Imagine having to work long shifts attending to some people who could drive a saint to the brink of insanity! Cleaning, medicating, comforting, wiping butts, the whole 9 yards, and all the while smiling as though that patient were the most important person on earth. Good God! Do you think you’d have anything left “in the tank” once you got home?

The reason I say this is because over the past week my wife was hospitalized after undergoing emergency surgery for severe diverticulitis. And while I think she’s a pretty good patient, if I may be so biased, I had to marvel at the great care she received from the nursing staff at the hospital where her surgery was performed. And, no, I did not play the Ray Rossi card either! She could have been anybody’s wife, mother, sister…and I have to believe that they all would have risen to the occasion.

I would be completely remiss if I didn’t acknowledge their hard work and dedication, and for helping put my wife in a more comfortable state over the last week.

If you’re a nurse……God bless you!

Reasons to be Cheerful.......

I believe that was a title of a song that came out in the early 80's...."Reasons to be Cheerful" (I think it was Ian Drury and the Blockheads)...but here I use it to give you an update on where I'm at in my ongoing effort in self-transformation.

Here are some of the reasons I have to be cheerful.......

1) Health: The latest numbers were very encouraging. Total cholesterol is at 136, down from around 250...my weight is down to below 180 from 187. It's now at 177 to 179 depending on when I weight myself...and my body fat is at 20.8%....down from 22%.
I'm doing this with a 5 day a week workout...and a diet that consists mainly of protein spread out over 5 or 6 meals daily. It's pretty easy to accomplish during the week when things are more regimented, but I tend to relax things a bit on the weekend. That's my "treat" time. (Remember, it's "treat"...not "cheat"!)

I'd still like my weight to hover at around 175 with an 18% body fat composition, and my goal is to accomplish this by the middle of October.

2) New direction: Besides the daily show I do on New Jersey 101.5....I've also been involved with Sirius Satellite Radio for the past 7 years. That will all change in October as I'll be giving up the satellite radio position, and embarking on a course of study that will hopefully lead to a Personal Trainer Certification. This is something I've long thought about but never thought was possible...given my lack of confidence in my athletic ability. However, my wife knows how much joy I derive from training, and with her encouragement, as well as the encouragement of my trainers Chris and Brian, I saw that it was indeed something I'd like to accomplish.

So off I go.......

3) The love and support of family and friends. None of this would be worth it without some of the things I think we all take for granted. I look around me and remind myself of all there is to be thankful for....not just a beautiful family and great friends; but the kind of job I've always dreamed of having ever since I was a kid.

I'm sure that when all is said and done, I'll take a look from time to time during those moments whenever I get down, (and they do happen every now and then)...and just remind myself that the pluses are way more numerous that the minuses.

Thanks for reading....and for sharing.

Calling All Members of the Rossi Posse:

I could use a little help with a friend who’s in a fair amount of distress and doesn’t know where to turn….and I know that you, as being part of the greatest audience in the world, would be only too glad to help!

I like to think I have the words to inspire people to do more about their physical appearance and mental outlook….but there are times when those challenges are quite daunting, even for little ol’ me, and this is one of them!

Here’s the deal…..I have a friend named Carlo. Nice guy. I met him years ago when I worked at the New York Country station. At the time, he was a broadcasting student taking a class that a friend of mine was teaching. Carlo and I bonded right away, both of being of a working class Italian background. At the time, Carlo weighted around 500lbs. He’d probably tell you he rivaled the guy who played JoJo the Whale in the movie “A Bronx Tale”.

Anyway, since that time, Carlo lost 300 of those pounds…mainly with the help of some gastric bypass…but also through modifying his diet and some exercise.

Since that time, he’s taken up stand up comedy and has a nice little thing going for himself. What is not working out for him right now is his love life! The other day he called me to tell me that he’s at wits end trying to deal with the flab that he’s accumulated from the weight loss….and it’s because of that that he feels as though he looks like a “sharpee” when he’s undressed. I guess he’s had a few ladies recoil in horror at the sight of that! What to do short of putting a bag over their heads?

That’s where you come in.

I could tell him that he’d need to work on firming up whatever flab he’s got around his waist with sit ups and crunches…and I’m sure you’d agree that he needs to continue exercising. But I’m sure there has to be a medical component in working out his situation as well.

As I’ve so often said, whatever you can offer by way of suggestion would be greatly appreciated.

If you’d like to reach out to him personally, I’ll give you his myspace address:

It’s http://www.myspace.com/clemenzascafe

As always, thanks for taking the time to read this. I’ll give you my own progress report in the next blog.

Ray