Joe Cool

Thank you Joe Cool


“He’s just such a cool guy. All my life, I never got to hang out with a cool guy.”

Seinfeld fans will recall this George Costanza line from the episode where Dan Cortese guest stars as Elaine’s boyfriend, Tony. Tony is cool. He’s good looking, athletic, confident, likable. George becomes enamored with Tony, begins to mimic his mannerisms. Sitting in a booth at Monk’s diner, Tony is telling a story and he takes his baseball hat off and puts it on backwards. George does the same. George’s admiration for Tony becomes obvious and Kramer says, “You’ve got a male crush on him.” Watching this I always squirm with George, I see myself, in George.

I think about, as the oldest boy in my family, how important those “relationships” were in my life. I look back and I laugh at Jimmy Spinner, the puppy dog, looking up with admiring eyes at various “cool guys.” Guys who taught me stuff, good and bad, about being a guy...

My first exposure to cool...Sitting in my 7th grade classroom listening to Sister Mary Pat drone on at the end of the day. I am distracted by gathering teenagers in front of Gino’s Pizza across the street. It’s leather jackets and t-shirts, cigarettes and punches in the arm. The bell rings and my friends and I walk over to the pizzeria. It’s a mob scene, kids dying to spend mom and dad’s money on a slice or a Coke. My buddies and I are younger, we are relegated to the fringes. I observe. I notice Charlie Lumia. (Lou me ah) There’s something about him. Slouchy in his leather jacket, leaning against a parked car, hands in his pockets, black hair parted in the middle. He’s funny, he’s got that look in his eye that says, I know just a little more about what’s going on than you do. Cathy Cavanaugh is there, the cutest girl in the 7th grade, in her maroon plaid skirt and white blouse. She’s talking to Charlie, wrinkling her pert, freckled nose at his jokes. She sees it too.

Over the next couple of months, my friends and I begin to hang out with the guys in front of the pizzeria. Sometimes we go to the park and play football. Most of our time is spent making each other laugh and showing off. As 7th graders we are newbies, learning the ropes from the older guys. We begin dressing like the older guys, talking like them. At some point, my buddies and I are walking down East 3rd Street, after hanging out all afternoon. I have my hands in my pockets, my fake leather jacket on, (derided by most as pleather) and one of my best friends, Jimmy Quinlan, says,
“What are you doing Spinner?”
I know I’m nailed, Jimmy doesn’t miss a trick. “Nothing, what are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about! Look at him Tweety, he’s walking like Charlie Lumia! You don’t walk like that! That’s Charlie’s walk.”
Switching back to my normal gait I say, “What? This is how I walk.” I want to say, “So what, I think Charlie’s cool and I want to walk like him. He gets all the hot girls. You noticed that I was walking like him. That means you know how he walks too.” But in 7th grade you don’t stand up for yourself all the time.
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Writing in my journal after watching that Seinfeld episode, I wrote about how important those “relationships” are for us. These were our role models. That’s how we learned how to handle ourselves in a fight, how to talk to girls, how to smoke a cigarette. We watched and we learned. The guys who were successful, we mimicked, and the guys who weren’t, well they were models too.

I have had a few of these, cool guy friendships, (sounds much better than male crush don't you think). And one of the most important was Neil O’Callaghan. Neil was to be a senior when I was entering my freshman year at John Dewey High School in Coney Island. Late August in the summer between 8th and 9th grade , my friends and I on East 4th Street were in the middle of a touch football game. Neil appears, hovers over the game for a second and says, “Spinner, I hear you’re going to Dewey.” Turning my head as I walk up to the line of scrimmage I say, “Yeh.” Neil glances over his shoulder as he walks away and says, “Meet me in front of my house at ten after seven tomorrow. And don’t be late, Freshman.”

He says freshman with a little edge to it, poking fun at me. He wasn’t being mean, he was busting on me while inviting me into his club. And this is the thing about someone who is genuinely cool, Neil could pull it off.

John Dewey High School was a world away from our Irish/Italian working class neighborhood. Neil decided to attend Dewey I am sure for the same reasons I did, the local catholic high school would have been expensive. Neil was one of ten O’Callaghan children, and I was one of four Spinners. Truth be told, I was closer with Andrew O’Callaghan; who was closer to my age than I than I was with Neil. If we were to choose up teams for stickball or touch football, Andrew was more in my circle of friends than Neil. Neil hung out with the older guys on Ronny Lopez’s porch. Guys who occasionally beaned us with snowballs or maybe asked us to play roller hockey only if they were short a guy. Usually our groups were like two ferry boats in New York harbor, we saw each other a lot but rarely did we connect.

All of the guys in Ronny Lopez’s crew were good guys and I love them like big brothers but there was something charismatic about Neil. The fact that he was a senior and he took me under his wing when I was a freshman always meant something to me. He was fun to hang out with, he made stuff exciting.

First day of school, I show up on time, aware this senior is doing me and my fellow freshman, Vinny Tomasi, a favor. Neil’s best friend, Bobby Slesarcik, another senior and a great guy meets us in front of the O’Callaghan’s house. We walk over to take the “F” train for the 50 minute trip to John Dewey. “Now freshman, the way you know the train is coming is you look down the tunnel towards Fort Hamilton Parkway, you can see the lights way before you hear the train.”

“Now freshman, the train always comes at the same time and it lands in the same spot. If you want to get a seat, you gotta line yourself up with where the door will land so you beat the other riders into the train.”

Neil and Bobby taught us to cut through the Marboro Projects and into the back door of John Dewey. Something a cool guy would know, a short cut. That first day Vinny and I were escorted to our respective homerooms and I figured that would be the last we would see of Neil and Bobby. I knew seniors didn’t want Vinny and I tagging along. But that’s where the coolness factor comes in. After a matching up of schedules, Neil and Bobby tell us to meet them in the caf for lunch.

Like I said, they taught us stuff. Two wide-eyed freshman, Vinny and I were prepared to follow all the rules. I was assigned a locker in what amounted to Siberia. Neil gave me a combination lock, put it on a locker right near his and said, “Don’t worry about it freshman, nobody uses their assigned lockers after freshman year.”

Walking to class a few weeks into the school year, I find out I have a substitute teacher. As I head into the class, Neil grabs me by the collar. “Mr. Wolfson’s not here? You have a sub? You don’t have to go to class.” Free period!

Watching Neil and Bobby I learned about women. I learned not to run after them with my tongue hanging out. Neil and Bobby seemed to be surrounded with beautiful upper classman. Two who come to mind, Helene Halperin and Lisa Goldglit, I swear that was her name. These girls were my first exposure to (JAPS) Jewish American Princesses. They were exotic. They dressed so nicely, Jordache jeans! They had perfect teeth. After a month or so of Neil and Bobby flirting with Helene and Lisa, dancing around each other, we are on the train on the way home. Vinny and I watching the conversation like a tennis match.
“Alright, so Helene gave me her number Bob, when should I call?”
“Well you knew this was coming. Don’t want to seem too eager. Wait a few days, call Wednesday and try to set up something for the weekend. What are you going to do with her?”
“ I was thinking ice skating at Sky Rink and then dinner and drinks in The Village.”

Vinny and I were in awe. These girls were untouchable. And Neil and Bobby had their choice. They were in charge, they were deciding when to call! I would have melted if Helene Halperin gave me her number.

Both Neil and Bobby worked. Neil was an actual soda jerk at a local luncheonette. He made the best chocolate egg cream I have ever had. Bobby worked in a local pharmacy. Vinny and I learned, if you had more money than the next guy, you buy. Those guys treated us all the time, and to this day I appreciate that.

Truthfully, I owe a debt of gratitude to Neil and Bobby and all the cool guys who "mentored" me along the way. Right around 8th and 9th grade I started to get into what we today call “high risk behavior.” These guys were there to corral me. To show me that roller hockey was better than rolling doobies. That an adrenaline rush was better than any other rush. That going to college was a realistic option. And I thank them for that every day of my life!