I am not happy with you. You really know how to push that "sacred" little button I try to keep hidden and safe from people like you. My problem is that you are alone in the "people like you" category, which is reserved for people whose hearts beat unconditionally for jerks like me. If I had one dollar for everytime you were there for me when I needed someone to save me in my darkest hour, I would have been able to release my music to every heart who thirst and hunger for my emotions. I know you were talking about my dad, Al. My dad was one hell of a special man who I knew was one of God's favorite creations. I knew God was so proud of "Al". He labored hard from sun up to long hours in the night just to keep the bills paid in our 4 room apartment in Bridgeport Connecticut. His greatest desire was to have me and my twin sisters Donna and Diane live in joy and happiness so he constantly showered us with presents and toys and made our life on Garfield avenue, Christmas everyday; especially my little life. He spent his last dollar buying me toys I desperately wanted. When I fell in love with the guitar, he worked and worked until he had enough money to buy me the electric guitar I wanted and the amplifier. My dad was constantly sick and diseased all his life. His illness was untreatable and unknown at the time when I was eight years old, some 51 years ago. So my young life was limited to hospitals, chapels and prayers asking God to keep my loving Dad alive to be with me. I remember vividly in 1960, when I was just 8 years old, my dad just got out of the hospital from a life saving surgery that could only be performed by specialists in another state far away. Mom, sisters and me got word he lived through his surgery which I was convinced was God's work after hearing my prayers in the hospital chapel. Not home a month, Dad took me rock collecting inside a quarry in upstate Connecticut to find special rocks for my collection that I kept in a our dining room. That was who my dad was. Always giving to others regardless of his hardship. Despite his pain which had not yet healed he helped me find lovely rocks which I still have to this day. My mom, Diane and Donna and I had a long and special journey with my dad all of our lives, so he was not someone we took for granted. He was always there for me in my later years and encouraged me when I felt lost, when I felt I couldn't go another day, when all hope was lost and when I thought life had abandoned me. He gave me reason to keep going, to be the warrior and keep fighting, no matter what obstacles lay before me. He instilled the courage in me, which I knew lived in him. We cherished our dad and what he meant to us, because somehow throughout our prayers of our young life, God let my Dad live until he was 75 years old, a miracle we had not expected all those years ago. Despite our love, a terrible disagreement in the 1990's separated father and son and we never spoke again. Without my knowing, my dad died in 2003 after a failed surgery. I never knew he died. I lost contact with my mom, and sisters and daughters for many years until my arrest, when strangely they showed up to be at my side. That night in that cold cell, I felt my dad's presence was with me. I remember whispering that I loved him, and asked him to ask God to free me. "I wasn't there that morning, when my father passed away, I didn't get to tell him all the things I had to say.... I just wish I could have told him in the living years " So I'm still waiting for my dream I dare to dream to come true. This is for you Dad. I love you, Vinnie

BurtReynolds wrote:fuzzy boyz got this for you.

I am not happy with you. You really know how to push that "sacred" little button I try to keep hidden and safe from people like you. My problem is that you are alone in the "people like you" category, which is reserved for people whose hearts beat unconditionally for jerks like me. If I had one dollar for everytime you were there for me when I needed someone to save me in my darkest hour, I would have been able to release my music to every heart who thirst and hunger for my emotions. I know you were talking about my dad, Al. My dad was one hell of a special man who I knew was one of God's favorite creations. I knew God was so proud of "Al". He labored hard from sun up to long hours in the night just to keep the bills paid in our 4 room apartment in Bridgeport Connecticut. His greatest desire was to have me and my twin sisters Donna and Diane live in joy and happiness so he constantly showered us with presents and toys and made our life on Garfield avenue, Christmas everyday; especially my little life. He spent his last dollar buying me toys I desperately wanted. When I fell in love with the guitar, he worked and worked until he had enough money to buy me the electric guitar I wanted and the amplifier. My dad was constantly sick and diseased all his life. His illness was untreatable and unknown at the time when I was eight years old, some 51 years ago. So my young life was limited to hospitals, chapels and prayers asking God to keep my loving Dad alive to be with me. I remember vividly in 1960, when I was just 8 years old, my dad just got out of the hospital from a life saving surgery that could only be performed by specialists in another state far away. Mom, sisters and me got word he lived through his surgery which I was convinced was God's work after hearing my prayers in the hospital chapel. Not home a month, Dad took me rock collecting inside a quarry in upstate Connecticut to find special rocks for my collection that I kept in a our dining room. That was who my dad was. Always giving to others regardless of his hardship. Despite his pain which had not yet healed he helped me find lovely rocks which I still have to this day. My mom, Diane and Donna and I had a long and special journey with my dad all of our lives, so he was not someone we took for granted. He was always there for me in my later years and encouraged me when I felt lost, when I felt I couldn't go another day, when all hope was lost and when I thought life had abandoned me. He gave me reason to keep going, to be the warrior and keep fighting, no matter what obstacles lay before me. He instilled the courage in me, which I knew lived in him. We cherished our dad and what he meant to us, because somehow throughout our prayers of our young life, God let my Dad live until he was 75 years old, a miracle we had not expected all those years ago. Despite our love, a terrible disagreement in the 1990's separated father and son and we never spoke again. Without my knowing, my dad died in 2003 after a failed surgery. I never knew he died. I lost contact with my mom, and sisters and daughters for many years until my arrest, when strangely they showed up to be at my side. That night in that cold cell, I felt my dad's presence was with me. I remember whispering that I loved him, and asked him to ask God to free me. "I wasn't there that morning, when my father passed away, I didn't get to tell him all the things I had to say.... I just wish I could have told him in the living years " So I'm still waiting for my dream I dare to dream to come true. This is for you Dad. I love you, Vinnie

doppelganger wrote:Wonder what Vinnie's falling out with his father was about. Maybe it all come about when Vinnie was hanging out with his cousin in New Orleans. Maybe Vinnie's father did not approve of Vinnie's Cousin's lifestyle choices. Maybe Vinnie's Cousin was a bavid influence of Vinnie. May have introduced him to the dark side.