Working For the Mob

MY FATHER graduated from high school after ten years instead of twelve, having been moved ahead two grades. I did the same thing, and I don't recommend it. Being on a college campus as a sixtten year old is a bit much. He joined his father's law firm as a twenty two year old, only to be interrupted by four years in the navy during World War Two. All that kind of messed him up. He turned to drinking, and spent most of his adult life aa an alcoholic, albeit a highly functioning one. He and my grandfather had one real client, and a few others for window dressing. The "real" client was the Kansas City mafia. The "made men" were more than enough to occupy a law firm of two partners and a few associates, and they paid well, nice retainers for my dad and granddad, plenty more money to spread around the firm. (This reminds me of a John Grisham novel.) The mob's business was gambling, before it was made legal. It still is, actually. The syndicate has no problems doing legal business. Now, they invest heavily in river boats. To get me out of the way and away from all this during summer vacation, dad would buy all the necessary tickets, load me onto an airplane, and let me spend the summer following my beloved New York Yankees around the country, escorted by a twenty five year old paid chaperone. This was in the nineteen sixties. Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle, et al, got used to seeing me behind their dugout during batting practice, and got in the habit of pointing at me or quickly waving at me. The fifteen year old kid, always at the ballpark. They must have figured I was some kind of spoiled rich kid, which I was.I loved it. I was required by dad to take next year's text books with me, and get ahead on the next school year, which kinda sucked, but kept me busy, and ahead in school. College put an end to all that, but old habits are hard to break,and I have spent most of the past fifty summers chasing the Yankees around, at least part of the time. Catching them in New York is my favorite venue; I like pinstripes. Dad's been dead for forty years, but I still get an occasional birthday and Christmas card from the mafia kids my age, who grew up with me, and went into various "businesses" which they still swear are perfectly legal. I don't ask questions. I hope and trust that their kids and grand kids are at least partly out of the business, and are perhaps involved only in the cover business, beer distributerships. But the Kansas City mafia is still quite extant, still into gambling, still raking in the cash. Our innocent until proven guilty system of justice is made to order for all manner of criminals. Just ask our president, or the mafia in a city near you. One thing I knew from early childhood: I had absolutely no interest of going to law school. I associated the legal profession with cigar smoke, drunkeness,fedoras, and shady characters, and still do, perhaps a bit hyperbolically. John Grisham, my favorite author, only adds to that image.. Stress and anxiety are the real killers of lawyers. A high percentage of lawyers are heavy drinkers. But who am I to talk? I spent my career as a teacher, of college kids. The lesson, I think, is that no matter what you do in life, you're screwed, and then you die, which I will do soon. I had a great role model, my father, in reverse. I never got into drinking, and I stay away from illegal activities, now that marijuana is legal. Like many of my age peers, I often marvel at my longevity, and wonder just how in the hell did I manage to live this long?