S:1E:5 - Lane 2

"Antny" Maillie, 1974

Even if only one person read my blog I would continue on. I'm dying and I know that and have accepted it. Dying is the easy part, it's living with an ever worsening disease that's hard. Every day is Groundhog Day. Wake up, take inventory, achieve a place of acceptance and forge ahead with positivity, a smile and be of service to others and my own self care. Sitting and writing, I don't have to wait on anyone for help. Every other facet of life today, I am beholden to others avail and time frames. I have had to learn patience (and continue to) which is not my strongest quality. I have switched from waiting and seething to using those moments for mini meditations. A little thought followed by a little attitude tweak and I am more peaceful and happier and do not view those cumulative minutes as wasted time any longer. My mind's eye has been working overtime this week. I have an overwhelming list of personal topics I want to share including, but no limited to, my amazing family, how I never worked a day in 30 years but had a career, Portugal, some serious details of my ALS struggles and victories alike, and our fight for advocacy for pALS & cALS. The subtitle of my blog is "My Journey With ALS" doesn't necessary mean that will be the focus every week. I would get bored and it's a bit too depressing for my taste.

It just occurred to me that my blogging style is very John Oliver-ish. He quickly covers a few random topics followed by a short skit and then on to the main story. I covered a few topics in the above paragraph, now on to my skit of sorts. It is Thursday, April 22, 2021. Today is Earth Day. Every day should be earth day for us all. Cancel culture doesn't resonate with me but disposable culture is as real as it gets. At my desk, running sleeves in place and headphones on. A handful of people know my number 1 escape hatch album. With a running time of 4 hours 6 minutes I am in my own world with The Last Waltz. Love that The Band went out on a high. Now onto our main story, teenage wasteland.

171 Woodward Pkwy, South Farmingdale, NY

As I go back in time, I view it all as my building blocks which was a combo of the good, bad and ugly. Born in Brooklyn in 1964, I remember very little. There was a concrete triangular park across from our house. We lived on the first floor, grandma Marazzo lived above us and my Aunt Connie lived in the basement. We weren't allowed in there because Aunt Connie wasn't very up on cleaning and there were fleas, lots and lots and lots of fleas. Moved to the suburbs in 68, more specifically South Farmingdale, Long Island. Our house was directly across from the high school and was the cap of street. My backyard butted up to two other backyards. On one side was Frankie's house and the other side was Gayle's house. We were all born within three weeks of each other and I still know both of their home phone numbers and I haven't called either in over 40 years. Today, Frankie and I are still friends and my sweet girl next door Gayle, remains one of my very best friends. Grammar school was fine and I have only two memories. Having a crush on, and holding hands with Kimberly in 1st grade. The other was from my art teacher. I turned in a project and her remarks were "talented yes, but a bit lazy". The nerve! I have next to zero recollection of junior high, I couldn't even get there. I do remember my friend Paul having a pint of Southern Comfort before we went into the 8th grade Sock Hop. I puked so much that to this day just the smell of it makes me sick. Nasty as fuck! To tell on myself, I was pretty shy and scared. I remember, and my cousins confirmed that I would hide on top of the fridge or behind big velvet curtains on the mirror wall. At other times I was not inhibited at all. This duality would torture me for years and I learned in high school that alcohol and drugs were a nice shortcut to me feeling worthy and confident. Until it did not!

John's basement, Massapequa, NY, 1981 

County Line Bowl, high school, discos, 7&7's, cocaine, speed, General Hospital, The Price is Right, fake ID's, sumps, Southern Rock concerts pretty much sums up high school. At this point in life I hated my town. I needed to be far from my perceived small town mentality. Far from the small town secular thinking and ideas, far from local pubs with heavy thick Long Island accents and far away from a place where my friends bought houses a block from their parents. And most importantly, far from Anthony or Tony, my given name. I was ready to stick knitting needles into the eyeballs of the next person that called me Antny. I wanted to make my mark in the world, my head was overflowing with grandiosity and at the same time I didn't believe I had the stuff to overcome and build a life that I desired.

Senior Prom, South Farmingdale High School, NY,  1982

Pretty much up to and including 11th grade, I was an A student. It came naturally to me and I studied. Oy, what a difference a summer makes. I had 105 absences that final year and almost didn't graduate. I could blame it on my grandmother dying that summer but that wouldn't be truthful. Yes, we were close. She lived with us and I would be solely responsible for giving her injections every day for diabetes and we would watch Roots and The Thornbirds together. I visited her so often when she spent a period of time in a care facility, I started dating her nurse who was 26. I had just turned 17! In New York at that time the drinking age was 18. Through the majority of HS, we had fake ID's and would go to clubs and discos with our pointy shoes and polyester pants. At first it was just four of us. Soon after there were 15 or 20 of us on any given night. We drove drunk all the time and I recall one time having 8 friends in my beige VW bug driving home and skidding on black ice all the way home.

Tony Maillie and the Camaro, circa 1981

Good Luck and Good Bowling - My education those years came largely from my time spent in my mom's bowling alley. She was General Manager and owned a small stake. Good, bad, ugly...is in the eye of the beholder. I started working there at 13 and by 15 or so, I was assistant GM. I was a very good bowler and could have gone pro but didn't because the money was not very good and it reminded me way too much of the Antny syndrome I was suffering from. So, I went on to learn how to handle money and behave in a business, how to gamble, how to drink while gambling and how to nail the good looking women 20 years my senior. The bowling alley was smack in the middle of a white town on one side and a black town on the other side. I grew up with black friends or at least friendly with. I worked night shift, so many nights after closing up, me and the guys would bowl for money, sometimes until 2 or 3 in the morning. I was a 16 year old bowling for money against men in their 30's. I made so much money that I bought myself a beautiful cream color Camaro. Snowstorms were party time. We would close early and all my friends would come on down. I would open the bar, blast music and before you knew it we were making naked pyramids or sliding head first into pins, etc. I even had sex on Lane 2, hence the title.

My apologies if today's blog was somewhat boring. I felt a need to get this out. There is so much more emotion tied to the above, but you'll have to wait for the movie :). My sister is a very big part of this time period as well. I will blog about her and my mom and dad in the future. Being they are all passed, not sure how or when to handle it.

Looking back, I cherish my time in South Farmingdale as it afforded me laughter and life long friendships and first crushes (Amy) but I still wanted out. My life is a story of polar opposites, conflict, confusion usually all at once. My name now is Anton and I built the life I dreamed of. Amen!!!

Tune in next week for Episode 6. Special guest writer, Mari will share...God help me!  

See you back here in 2 weeks.

...and remember - "make good days great days, no bad days allowed"

Peace out!!!

Anton