My cousin Marvin was born sometime during the dawn of time circa 1929. During his prime he was a bald stocky man who lived in Brooklyn with his wife, my cousin Pearlie. He was a salesman, but all his life he wanted to be a prize fighter. Every day he would say “Pearlie, I’m goin’ to the fights.” He would go and he would bet. He got no greater joy
(
Read more... )