Back and over

     It was 1973 and I was a sophomore in High school. My freshman year at Manhattan Voc. Tech. H. S. Was a disaster. I sold pot and mescaline. Black Beauty's and anything I could make a buck from. Spending more time out of school then in lead to an adventurous year. 

     I really was a good student. Good grades, good attendence. But when I was eleven years old I found myself standing infront of a family court judge who was asking me if I wanted to stay home. Of course I told him I did. I was an A student who never missed school and at 11 years old I was doing exceptionally well considering our deep dark secrets . 

     What I didn't know was that my mother was following her pattern of putting her man before her children. So when we got home I got beat by both of them.  

     Within a half year, 6 months, I was a Black Spade, selling pot and whatever. I had become a full fledged juvy criminal mini- gangster. By 12 I had a .22 short revolver. I sold drugs and rarely if ever used them. But I made money in many ways. Even climbing into 2nd and 3rd floor apt. Windows. It wasn't about hanging with kids. I got my real education from the masters of the game. Not only did we play some sports but we trained. Boxing, wrestling and some karate. We'd learn about jewelry and antiques courtesy of the books and magazines thrown in the trash by our upper Westside intellectual and cultured neighbors. They'd even drop then by the door of our basement antique store. "Freddy's."