***Out
In The Be-Bop Be-Bop 1960s Night- When
Sammy Russo Ran The Skee Ball Lanes
From
The Pen Of Peter Paul Markin
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube
film clip of The Shirelles performing their classic Tonight’s The Night
Scene: Brought to mind by one of the
snapshot photos that graced each CD compilation in a rock and roll series that
I recently reviewed here. The then newly built Gloversville Amusement Park
created out of farmland just west of the old home town, Clintondale. Of course
it had all the latest rides, including two Ferris wheels, two different-sized
roller coasters (one for the faint-hearted, the other for the brave, or
fool-hearty) refreshment stands seemingly without end, and other refinements,
including for our particular purposes not one by two game pavilions anchored by
rows of skee lanes. Skee lanes that Sammy Russo ruled (that‘s would be the the
guy eating the proffered popcorn in the photo I am referring if you could see
it) and claimed kingship over and over which Patty Smith (the popcorn profferee
in said photo) sought to be his queen. If she could handle the gaffe.
***********
“Christ, Patty how many of these
damn, god awful kewpie dolls do you need anyway?,” yelled Sammy Russo, the King
Of The Skee Ball night at Gloversville Amusement Park and also a 1960s king
hell king of a corner boy at Doc Sweeney’s Drugstore (said store complete with
soda fountain, naturally, and a juke box too else why be a corner boy there, or
anything else) out in the Clintondale be-bop night to his wanna-be sweetie,
Patty Smith. And it was a question that he expected an answer to, a prompt, no
sass answer, newness wearing off or not, newness of their “steady” hood-ness, that
is.
See, Patty got big eyes for Sammy
right here at the FUNland game pavilion (no that is not a typo that is the way
the name in front of the game pavilion read) at the beginning of summer, right
after school let out. School, of course, being North Adamsville High in the
year of our lord nineteen hundred and sixty if anybody asks you, and they
might. And, for that matter, how else would I know of the Sammy-Patty love
story, I ask you, if that wasn’t so. I am one of Sammy’s Doc’s Drugstore corner
boy, uh, associates.
Gloversville proper, by the way, is
too new and rural raw to have its own high school so kids from Gloversville
come over to North Clintondale where there is some extra room just now. But
Gloversville kids, farm boys and girls mainly, are strictly squaresville. No
dispute. The only reason that anybody from North Clintonville High, any corner
boy (or his girl) would even set foot in Gloversville for one minute, no, one
second, was to pass ever-loving Main Street (really Route 16) through to the
edge of town seeking the newly built Gloversville Amusement Park. And that is
the reason why Sammy and Patty were standing there in front of the FUNland skee
ball lanes having their first “argument.” Well, kind of an argument.
Patty was either in some high funk,
or did not hear Sammy the first time over the din of the Gene Daniel’s A
Hundred Pounds Of Clay followed immediately by The Chieftains Heart And
Soul, blaring over the loudspeaker. A loudspeaker that we finally figured
out was used by the management to juice up the pinball/skee ball/games
atmosphere so no one could think and just drop coins in steadily whatever games
were being played. The noise was so loud that Sammy was forced to repeat
himself. And Patty faux-demurely answered (as was her way when Sammy got this,
well, this Sammy Doc’s corner boy way)-“Until I get the whole set of twelve,
and not before.” [Markin: For those who are breathlessly on the edge of their
seats waiting to know why there are twelve it is simple. There are twelve
kewpies representing twelve different nations/major ethnic groups, naturally,
they had that part of the soft sell down easy] “Christ,” said Sammy under his
breathe, “We will be here all night.”
All night skee-ing when Sammy, king
of the skees or not, had other things, other wrestling in some secluded spot
out back by the artificial lake that formed one of the edges of the park things,
on his mind. With one Patty Smith, of course. And that would not be the first
time, the first wrestling time. Funny, just then the newest Shirelles' hit came
over the speaker, Tonight’s The Night.
But just now he knew deep in his bones, knew as if he had been married to Miss
Smith for fifty years, that tonight was not going to be the night if she did
not go home with not ten, not eleven, but exactly twelve f—king kewpie dolls.
Now this skee thing, on an average
night is nothing but a sure thing when Sammy has his motor running. When his
mind is on skees, okay. But playing enough games to “win” twelve dolls, or for
that matter twelve rabbits’ feet or twelve leis (lesser prizes in the skee
universe) requires a certain perseverance and good aim.
[Markin: For those who do not know
skee it is like bowling, candle-pin bowling (small balls for those not from New
England) in that you roll the bowl up a short lane and like darts or rifle
target shooting in that you have a target. The idea is to get as many points
(and hence coupons) with nine balls as possible. The points convert to coupons
which are dispensed near where you place your money to start a game. Get enough
coupons and you win prizes from those lame leis to kewpie dolls. Simple.]
But, like I said, Sammy’s mind had
been elsewhere, especially when Patty, yes, Patty brought up the subject of
wrestling down by that lake if things worked out at skee. And as if to
punctuate her sentence Brenda Lee’s You Can Depend On Me came on while
these “negotiations” were in progress.
But this night Sammy, king hell
corner boy is whipped, just plain whipped by the task before him. It is almost
closing time (11:00 PM) and Sammy has won exactly five dolls. And Sammy, while
he can be as smooth as any Doc’s Drugstore corner boy, except maybe Fritz
Gentry, or as cold as any hard-boiled Hell’s Angel motorcycle corner boy from
the Blarney Bar &Grille in the hard-night part of Clintondale is ready to
explode at Patty. Not for her foolish girl desire for the damn dolls. That is
how girls are and what makes them tick. No, Sammy is fed up that his prowess at
skee had to be put in play by Patty’s silly notions.
So come eleven o'clock and defeat
Sammy, cold as ice, says to Patty, “Okay, we are finished, I’ll take you home
now but I have had it.” So they walked, walked pretty far apart for two people
on the same planet, back to Sammy’s father’s car and he did not even open
Patty’s door for her. Bad news, no question. She got in and as the car radio
heated up wouldn’t you know in a night filled with omens and portents that just
then the local all-night rock ‘n’ roll station would be playing Connie Francis’
Breakin’ In A Brand New Broken Heart. And both Sammy and Patty were
absolutely quiet while that song was being played.
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