Thanks for the years to Pinocchio’s management, fellow-employees, and customers for fifteen great ones. I’ll miss you all.
Seems like yesterday, but I started right around the time Allen Iverson stepped over Tyronn Lue during the NBA Finals. And that was 2001. Do the math the old-fashioned way and it comes out to fifteen.
I’m a man of words – but words can’t express my feelings. During those fifteen years, I experienced all of these emotions at one time or another:
- Affection
- Anger
- Annoyance
- Curiosity
- Desire
- Empathy
- Euphoria
- Frustration
- Gratitude
- Happiness
- Hatred
- Hostility
- Joy
- Love
- Lust
- Outrage
- Passion
- Pity
- Pleasure
- Pride
- Rage
- Sadness
- Sorrow
- Shock
- Surprise
- Trust
- Wonder
- Worry
I mean, a lotta shit happened during those fifteen years:
- As previously mentioned, the Sixers went to the NBA Finals.
- The Eagles played in the Super Bowl.
- The Phillies won the World Series.
- The Flyers went to the Stanley Cup Finals.
- I had a heart attack and two hip replacements.
At work:
- I made friends and cemented relationships that will endure.
- People were hired and fired.
- Some quit and never came back. Some quit and came back – some more than once.
- I saw relationships bloom. Some blossomed and others withered.
- People got engaged and married.
- Some people had kids.
- Some people died. I stopped counting at seven – all of them younger than me.
Speaking of dying, I went eyeball-to-eyeball with Satan three times during the last eight years and – pardon my French – I made that motherfucker back off all three times. Don’t forget – I’m a Tuff Guy.
Speaking of health, let’s get this straight. My health is fine and I’ve got plans on the drawing board that’ll take the next eight years to realize. So I’m going to make it into my eighties at least.
But for the last few years I’ve endured discomfort walking a mile or two every night – six nights a week – and climbing up and down 200 stairs every night. I tolerated the pain because I enjoyed my work environment, the people I worked with, and making money. I miss the cash-flow already, but the pain is no longer worth the reward.
So that’s why I hung up my delivery bag.
Thanks
Thanks for the kind send-off and your generosity.
The gift certificate starts working on Sunday when I begin my stand-up venture at the Helium Comedy Club in Philly. Three weeks of classes and then a showcase at the club in August. I’ve already got two gigs in the works unless I – pardon my French once again – bomb like a motherfucker.
In addition to stand-up, I’ve already taken one acting lesson. Don’t get me wrong when I say this – but I don’t need any more lessons. Not yet. That’s because any part I’d get at this point would not be a speaking part. I’d just be part of the scenery and don’t need to act for that.
For now, I’m looking at open-auditions to see if any match. If I make progress, then I’ll take as many lessons as necessary.
By the way, I already have four acting credits on my résumé:
- Man walking on beach holding hands with girlfriend in Sitmar Cruise Lines commercial.
- Man standing with bike behind Shari Belafonte in Oldsmobile commercial.
- Background detective in Love Boat Valentine’s Day Special.
- Tourist walking down gangplank in same Love Boat Valentine’s Day Special.
Plus, I graduated from the New York Film Academy – so I know a little bit about making movies – real movies and not CGI crap.
In August, I start a screen-writing MasterClass with Aaron Sorkin. If his name doesn’t ring a bell, he wrote A Few Good Men and The West Wing. My objective – to learn how to transform Born to Be Wild, Caribbean Queen, and Polish Widow into a Netflix Series and/or motion pictures.
And I’ve got three books to clean up and republish.
So I’ve got my hands full and – at 73 – I’m running out of time. More French – time to quit fucking around. Wish me luck and I’ll keep you posted.
I apologize for not naming names because I don’t want to omit anyone.
And thanks again from the bottom of my heart.
In addition to being the official Eagles Outsider for BlameMyFather.com, Barry Bowe is also the author of:
- Born to Be Wild
- 1964 – The Year the Phillies Blew the Pennant
- 12 Best Eagles QBs
- Birth of the Birds
- Soon-to-be-published sexy, police procedural Caribbean Queen
- Soon-to-be-published novel Stosh Wadzinski
- Soon-to-be-published novel Polish Widow
- Work-in-progress: A Fuckin All-American
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