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Chazz Palminteri is currently performing his terrific one-man show, “A Bronx Tale”, at the Venetian in Las Vegas. This, of course, is the show he performed decades ago that got Robert DeNiro’s attention and led to the film by the same name – not to mention launching Chazz’s career. I saw the more recent performance of this show that Chazz has been touring, both in New York and Los Angeles, and I highly recommend it – particularly if you can see it in Vegas.
Why particularly in Vegas? Well, because the story Chazz tells is about his relationship with – what the audience can only assume is – a mob boss. I say, “what the audience can only assume is a mob boss” due to the fact that there is never any mention of the mob – which is interesting in and of itself (more on that later) but particularly here, since the last time Vegas, Baby was actually Vegas, Baby was when the purported “mob” ran the place.
What you see in “A Bronx Tale” is a boy – Cologero or simply, ‘C’ – learning to be a man. From his father, yes, but also and especially, from our “mob” boss – Sonny. Sonny teaches C the value of community and how to conduct himself as a gentleman. And whether they love him or fear him because of what he does, everyone – including C’s father – respects Sonny for the man he is.
The qualities that Sonny exhibits – and passes on to C – are rarely seen in today’s so-called men. But that’s an entirely different diatribe. My point is, that when Vegas was supposedly run by guys like Sonny it at least had class. It was an adult playground where you could dress up, see a show, have a nice meal and do a little gambling. Now it’s a poor excuse for Disneyland where flip-flop and t-shirt wearing parents drag their ragamuffin kids around at all hours of the night and day. An interesting contradiction for Chazz’s show.
What happened? Sadly, Corporate America took over. And the same can be said for the Mob.
Now before I go any further, let’s get one thing straight: according to yours truly, there is no such thing as the Mob or the Mafia or La Cosa Nostra or any of the other euphemisms used to describe an alleged group of predominantly Italian-Americans involved in “organized crime”. Never was. First of all, organized crime is somewhat oxymoronic, isn’t it? But that’s beside the point. Like Chazz Palminteri, I too grew up in a neighborhood that was heavily populated with those of my own ethnic heritage. The reason there is no mention of the Mob in “A Bronx Tale” is because we never used that kind of terminology. I should know. My father – for lack of any other way of describing him that you may understand – knew people, was supposedly connected, whatever. According to my mother, he was simply a good-for-nothing dago bastard, but that too is an entirely different story. To the best of my knowledge and observations, there were no secret societies, no hierarchies, no bosses, under bosses, capos, etc… There was never even talk of “This Thing of Ours”. All that stuff was invented by Hollywood and the Government to sell tickets and justify some G-man’s salary. But I digress.
What’s for sure is that if there ever was anything such as the Mob, it certainly doesn’t exist anymore. For all the supposed indiscretions and illegalities that the Mob is reported to be involved with, what people fail to recognize is that its essential function was to provide security and protection. If you didn’t have deep pockets or couldn’t speak English very well, the Mob was your insurance company. And unlike premiums, you got something for your payola. If there was every an accident or a need, there was always money, flowers or food generously donated by your local ghoomba.
But then, Corporate America took over and it all went downhill – just like Vegas.
Case in point: A seventeen year old girl needs a liver transplant but her insurance company – Cigna – refuses to pay for it. She dies.
Now the girl’s mother is obviously upset so she pays a visit to the Cigna headquarters in Philadelphia – where the CEO of the insurance company no doubt lives in a mansion on the mainline and sends his kids to Haverford thanks to all the premium payments this mother and others like her have paid. Does the mother go there seeking money, retribution? No, she goes simply asking for an apology. What happens? She gets heckled, flipped off and is summarily shown to the door by the capos, underbosses, soldiers and other ghoombas otherwise known as the Cigna employees.
All I can say is, this would have never happened in the neighborhood I grew up in. Or where Chazz grew up either. But like he says in the conclusion of his show, maybe this is just another Bronx Tale.
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