Impressions

My old man cut a swath about a mile wide. The guy was a character, in the good sense.

I’ve talked about him before and thought he is relevant right at this moment in my life.

Bello was born February 12 1912. Grew up in the Baden Street Settlement in Rochester N.Y., a Ghetto for poor Italian and Jewish immigrants. Housed in a 3 room cold water flat with 9 kids and his parents. He got his name Bello from the Italians as far as we know. 

Bello became 85% deaf by the time he was 13. Excelled in sports , one of the few ways out of the ghetto. Bello reached that dream going pro in Basketball. He’s another story altogether but his impression on me weighs deep now.

“Danny, (looking into me deep). You stop, you stop moving, you die”.

He said these words after his first heart attack at 84. Bello died at the gym at 86.

Image  here is Bello on the right and Welterweight  champion of the world ,the infamous Barney Ross, another guy who’s story is a classic movie in technicolor. Safe to say my Dad Bello, had  a colorful body of friends.  

I started Chemo ( Lupron, a 3 month implant ) 7 days ago. It was hell, of course Hell has many “planes” and I was only on the first one, thank you. The needle is big and furious. My muscles in my pelvis did not enjoy it. Headaches, brain fog  and extreme muscle pain were the main course for 3 days and now finally, at least for awhile,  its leveled off.

I know I’m not done, by any stretch but I’m  tuning the strings, sharpening the knife.

I’ve been here before.

Repitition of breaking a sweat  once a day, no matter what.

 I give him respect, for Bello gave me , fortitude.