A Dying Wish for Tuna Fish
Growing up a child in the '50s of an immigrant father from Ireland and mother's family from Scotland, like their world foe origins, always slinging sharp, deprecating barbs at one another, mixed with a side of dry humor, satire and sarcasm became my looking glass.
As post-war WWII young adults they enjoyed their new world working hard and celebrated playing harder while doing their best to avoid the challenges of parenthood, such as paying little attention to the whereabouts of their offspring between 8:00 a.m. and when the street lights came on, or as it's known now, the last time the world was safe for children.
Join eight-year-old Patsy Farrell, a skinny, four-eyed, inhibited child, little sibling to her straight-A, beauty queen, nine-years-older trophy sister as she makes her way through an already stacked deck (against her) to a strict Parochial school dishing out Guilt 101 and demoralizing tactics to young minds and knuckles, all the way to present day survivor of it all, Patricia Farrell Durao
All stories come from notes and letters kept over seven decades, fortunately, as depending on brain cells firing up at this point would be fruitless.
If you are someone whose mind sometimes leans to the "unwrapped;" if you are fans of George Costanza or Mel Brooks you will enjoy these stories.
If not, lighten up
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