Working for a Living…or is that Baseball Cards?

Table of Contents

The recent theme of my blog has centered around my paternal (Grandpa Tony’s) ancestral home in Serino and Solofra, Campania, and the intriguing story behind our family name. However, let’s shift gears and revisit some memories from my childhood and early adulthood, much like we did when I started this blog four summers ago.

Working for a Living or is that Baseball Cards?

My journey into the world of work began at the tender age of eight. I assisted an older neighbor in delivering newspapers, earning a modest quarter per day. That hard-earned money held immense value for me—it meant I could head over to Nappi’s and purchase five packs of baseball cards. Each pack contained five cards, priced at just 5 cents per pack. The thrill of using my own money fueled my determination, and soon I was pleading with my parents to let me have my own paper route.

Interestingly, it was my mom (Grandma Joanne) who orchestrated the next chapter. She reached out to my Aunt Nina, who happened to work in the printing press room at the Ashtabula Star-Beacon (starbeacon.com, Star Beacon – Wikipedia). Despite being only ten years old, I managed to secure my own route, likely with Aunt Nina’s assistance.

Screaming Green Fall Over Machine

I’d deliver from late winter to late summer as I’d quit each August at the start of Mother of Sorrows football practice. I’d resume a route after basketball season. Somehow I was able to deliver papers through each baseball season likely with the help of Grandpa Tony.

The papers arrived promptly at our house right after school. I’d meticulously count them, ensuring the correct number. Then, I’d load them into my delivery pouch. The pouch slung over my shoulder, I’d hop onto my trusty bike:

From – Schwinn Sting Ray “Pea Picker” Bicycle (antiquewhs.com). My parents couldn’t afford a Schwinn like the one above, but this was the closest picture.

Ah, that bike! Its banana seat and vibrant green hue made it a standout. Yet, practicality wasn’t its strong suit. The pouch would snag on the seat or the stick shift, causing me to tumble often. But hey, every fall was a lesson in balance and resilience.

Lessons in Sociology!

Within a few blocks of my house, I had three different delivery routes. When basketball season ended, my old route was often taken, leading to a new assignment. Little did I realize that these routes would offer me an unexpected sociology lesson through the contrasting clientele.

Two of my routes catered to working-class customers, while the third wound along Walnut Boulevard, hugging the shores of Lake Erie. Despite living just a couple of blocks from the lake, my immediate neighbors were all blue-collar. In contrast, Walnut Boulevard, a mere three-minute bike ride from my house, boasted white-collar residents, lakefront properties, and sandy beaches—an aspirational utopia for kids like me.

Saturday mornings, when I had no baseball game, was my day to collect subscription fees.. Delivering papers to my 30 or 40 customers took about an hour; I’d simply leave the paper at their mailboxes. But collecting payments? That was a different story—a two- or three-hour drudge. I’d approach each customer’s house, knock on the door, and announce “Collecting!” with feigned sincerity and forced cheerfulness (definitely NOT).

The working-class folks often knew my family, and even if they didn’t, most tipped me—usually a dime, sometimes a quarter. I felt both rich and appreciated.

Now, the white-collar residents of Walnut Boulevard? A different tale. The grand houses rarely received a paper, but when they did, collecting payment felt like extracting wisdom teeth.

“Those people” were often absent or conveniently unavailable. Without their payments, I’d dip into my own pocket until they settled up. On more than one occasion, I dialed my Distribution Manager for assistance.

And as for tips? Zero, zip, zilch—nada!

So, What was I Listening To?

Along with my paper pouch and my bike, I always had an 9-volt powered transistor radio. I’d either listen to the Indians (can I say that?) or music. I was 10 in 1969, and the Indian’s sucked, so it was mostly Top-40. What were we listening to then?

Billboard Year-End Hot 100 singles of 1969 – Wikipedia

And, what about #9 (my favorite number) in that list? How the heck is #9 only #9 in 1969?

Nebaletan Word of the Day – CACCA!

As my grandson continues to build his 22-month-old vocabulary, he readily counts and repeats the alphabet. I’ve taken it upon myself to teach some Italian too. Routinely, when he counts, I repeat in Italian…uno, due, tre, quattro…and sometimes I get an uno back!

More recently I’ve introduced CACCA! I’m not certain what the kids think about this…but, I’m old and plead senility!

CACCA was readily used by my family, friends, teachers, coaches, Nebaletan or not! And, I still use it frequently today. It seems less caustic than yelling SH1T!

What does CACCA mean? It’s best to watch this video provided by Capo Carmen who spurred me to use CACCA as the Nebaletan Word of the Day:

Pizza Review – Marvin Mozzeroni’s, Webster, NY

Marvin Mozzeroni’s is a Rochester area, pizza chain with a location in Webster. Google shows good reviews, but as we know from past reviews that means little. I tried Marvin Mozzeroni’s more since they’re in our town and offered delivery.

Typically, my reviews end with a “Value” section, but I want to start here for this one. The initial cost of a Marvin Mozzeroni’s is pizza is reasonable at $21 for a 16″ (large). BUT their fees were $9 (delivery ($6), convenience ($1.5), and taxes ($1.7)) bringing to total to $30!!!!

Having spent the beginning of this post talking about tipping, I just couldn’t get over 37% of the cost of the pizza being fees. My assumption was that delivery fee was the tip at 20% of the cost of the pizza!

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, CATHY FOUND OUR RECEIPT AND OTHER RECEIPTS CRUMBLED ON OUR DRIVEWAY…I guess the delivery fee is not the tip 🙂 So, I asked my kids if I’ve become like my old “Walnut Boulevard” customers. The kids said that I was Walnut Boulevard. My cousin, who grew up in Ashtabula, said I didn’t! Obviously, a generational thing!

In any event, here’s the review! BTW…a quick note, if the pizza was any good would I complain about fees?

Date	July 25, 2024
Pizzeria	Marvin Mozzeroni’s
City/Neighborhood	Rochester, NY / Webster Village
Website	Marvin Mozzeroni’s Pizza & Pasta – Irondequoit – Irondequoit, Rochester, NY (mozzeronis.com)
About Us	Not Really on the website
Style	NY
Ambiance	Online order, delivery
Beverage Pairing	Athletic Brewing, IPA

Shape	Round
Dough/Crust	Tickness – Thin with a massive cheese layer thicker than the crust! Cook – Soft, little air, Chewy, Heavy, cross-hatching on bottom – not sure why – totally unsure what the bottom cook is! Some brownish bits, but mostly just tan like a cool oven or toaster! Flavor – Wonder bread-like, not much flavor
Cornicione	Slightly crispy, chewy – but no air or puff
Toppings	Cheese and sauce Fresh – highly unlikely given taste profiles
Sauce	Tangy, sweet, thin Not too bad! But it took some digging through the massive cheese layer to find any, and there wasn’t much which is too bad given the nice tangy sweet flavor
Cheese	Cheese Type – Moozedell Cheese Distribution – All over Very greasy, stringy
Cheese to Sauce Ratio	Sauce – very little ` Cheese – a lot Balance – out of balance, way, way too much cheese, and too little sauce

Value	At $21 for a 16″ the value is good, but again, THOSE FEES!!! WTF!
Overall Rating	Meh (which is not good, but no pizza is bad) A poor version of a NY Style. Too much cheese, not enough sauce, no real dough flavor, and too soft of a bake to represent NY Style well.
Would I Go Back?	No It’s difficult not to be harsh on Value when the pizza is not good.