Ralph Takes the Cake

Maybe it's Ralph's birthday. Maybe it's a holiday. Maybe just a Tuesday. But here's Ralph's mother presenting him with a cake which he could easily eat the whole of today (if it's free cake). Is it a Carvel ice cream cake? And what is it? A carousel? The little figurine in the middle looks sorta like a Santa Claus.

So many questions? Where can we find the answers? In the pages of Ralph Fuccillo's memoir "Once a Kid."

Coming soon! (Hurry it up!)

The Darktown Strutter

Yeah, that's our boy, velvet shorts and all (well, not all -- no socks). Ralph loves talking about the time he danced on Broadway. I can't say for certain that this is the outfit he wore, but for let's assume it was for now. True story -- he tap-danced across that legendary stage!

Hard to think of Big Pops as a hoofer. In fact, the closest he's ever come to a hoof was when he tried horse at a Tokyo restaurant (hopefully, it wasn't Roquepine)!

The Clip Joint

Chicago, April 1971: Jan and Ralph pause for a photo outside of Ralph's Barbershop, much to the chagrin of the patron in the front window, whose two dollar haircut comes with an eyeful of Bronx derriere.

Ralph, of course, is not the namesake of the barbershop, and judging by those near-muttonchops, had yet to frequent said establishment.

Ralph Blesses the Neighborhood

Young Ralph, the boy priest of Parker Street, celebrates the Catholic Mass with some local hoodlums. What a photo! There's Ralph, serious, devoted, with the "Bowery Boys" to his left: Peter Macceroli, Johnny Dynan, Albie Napoli (praying fervently) and Johnny Pisano. It's hard to tell what the two girls make of this scene.

I found over a dozen shots of Fr. Ralph in the archives, administering to the neighborhood kids and performing a personal religious ceremony for his grandparents. (Wanna see more? Wait for the book, you cheapskates!)

I must tell you, this is no joke. Ralph is as devout now as he ever was. Only, instead of a cassock, today he wears some nice threads he got from his Hong Kong style guru, the Manhattan Tailor!

Finally! An Excerpt from "Once a Kid" (Draft)!

Well, it's about time you heard a bit of the memoir, right from the horse's (of donkey's) mouth!

Here's Ralph discussing his first meeting with his wife, Jan.

(From a chapter to be possibly titled "The Impostor.")

"On to Creighton University, Omaha, Nebraska…

It was the fall of 1970 and I had just been accepted over the spring to a great Jesuit University, however, on probation since my grades in New York City's college system weren't the best by a long shot. I was determined to do well this time around!

This part of my life I was doing alone, except for the bankers who loaned me the money to attend college in the Midwest.

Right out of the gate, I tried to impress everyone I met even as I awaited my roommate, a complete stranger from the windy city of Chicago. I did know we had something in common – we were both guineas from ethic neighborhoods. Even though Jim was Italian, he lived in a Polish area, and I in an Italian ghetto area of the Bronx. I pushed my "New York" style to the limits, if in fact there were any. I believed I had a great wardrobe – direct from every discount department store, as well as a cousin who worked as a buyer for a major brand. I was set! I really tried to play the role of a classy Italian from the Bronx, but was more akin to Topo Gigio, the celebrity Italian mouse from “The Ed Sullivan Show.”

I settled into campus life, majoring in Journalism. I worked hard on my studies from Monday to Thursday and then headed out with the boys to a few local spots, where it didn't take much brainpower to major in "drinking as a way of life." This was when the trouble began. As a New Yorker I'd drink doubles of Johnny Walker Black with a little water on the side. God forbid anyone at the bar or club would leave a drink unattended – in seconds it would be gone! After a while, it didn't matter whether the drink was attended to or not.

As the months rolled by and winter started to settle in we had quite the routine as we would spend the weekends drinking and carrying on. Thank God I didn't drive, but chewed on cigars instead. My buddies and I would meet females (and sometimes not in the very best condition).

This brings me to a very special Saturday in January, 1971. The guys and I ventured to the Civic Auditorium in downtown Omaha to see a Creighton basketball game – what else was there to do on a cold winter's night in Omaha? The Bluejays won, and what better time to celebrate the victory than the present! After going from bar to bar we stumbled into a classy lounge in the Blackstone Hotel on Dodge Street.

It was a piano bar and it didn't take us more than a few seconds to realize that the guys circling the piano were singing arm-in-arm. My first gay bar in the Midwest! We scurried to see if there were any women in the place and to our delight we noted two girls sitting at a table eating sandwiches and fries. We asked if we could be associated with them, since the alternative was being hit on by some gents. Lucky as it may be, Jan's roommate had dated one of the associates I was with and this made it easy. They said yes and probably figured we were quite harmless in the condition we were in. It was at that very moment I met the love of my life and future wife, Jan.

Talk about trouble? The mixture of alcohol and bullshit didn't make for a pretty sight or, in this case, a proper introduction. I couldn't control myself and before long I was telling Jan that I was a graduate school student in the Journalism department of Creighton University. Nothing could be further from the truth! Then I pushed the envelope and told her my employer was paying my tuition, and that it just so happened that my employer was the New York Yankees organization, where I served as public relations director for their AAA team in Syracuse, New York! Wow!

What a way to start a relationship! I was a twenty-two year old, barely an undergraduate sophomore, who had never even been to Syracuse. The closest I came to this city in upstate New York was to meet a fellow Creighton student who was from there. (The student was N__ G__, whose claim-to-fame was being a kleptomaniac – AND THAT'S NO LIE!)

This major lie about who I was or wasn't became much more difficult to contend with as I started to fall in love. Needless to say, it almost cost me my bride-to-be – AND THAT TOO IS NO LIE!"

History of Men's Fashion: Autumn 1971

It's splendor in the grass for our budding author, in his Gulden's yellow shirt, complemented by striped white slacks. Looking like either Archie Andrews...

 or a model for the sleeve of a Simplicity pattern...

Ralph nevertheless continues today to exude both style and class. And still wears his slacks too tight!