(Well now, you know that saying that nobody’s perfect -- and that parents are people, after all. Of course it’s true. Many of you are now parents, and you finally realize that it’s a heavy job but that you’re human -- just like your own parents. And on account of that, you forgave them, if possible, for any hurt you suffered at their neglect. Right? Moving on, right? After all these years. . . you’re finally grown up enough to recognize that flaws are part of life and that you are flawed, your kids are flawed, your parents are flawed. . . but in spite and on top of it all, there is love.)
How are Mickey Ruskin and my dad similar? They’re both: dark haired men, who are dead. They were both dyed-in-the-wool New Yorkers; both beloved by many, both mysterious men. They probably did stuff that they weren’t totally proud of. . . but still, their kids loved and still love them.
Two pictures worth 1,000 words each? This is one LONG blog post! Happy Father’s Day to all applicable, with love.
Mickey Ruskin by G. Malanga, 1982
Bernard F. Agnelli, circa mid 1950s
I still miss you, daddy. . .