Frank Palmieri: 1914 - 2010

I inherited a new set of parents in, I think, about 1993. My own parents had not withstood the sands of time very well and left me, the shiftless waif that I am, in 1991 (mother) and 1981 (father).

Frank and Dorothy Palmieri became my “parental units” (although they had no idea I referred to them that way, it being a term right out of the Conehead skits on Saturday Night Live) but I think they also began to think of me as some sort of bastard offspring in 1999 when they noticed I seemed to be sticking around as their friend, snow-shovel-wielding maniac, opinionated gardener (I wouldn’t grow vegetables), light-bulb changer, basement scrubber, jokester, computer dabbler, and general reference point for all things The New York Times and Jeopardy!

It could not last forever, of course, and Frank passed away on January 16, 2010 at the age of 95. Up until the last few days he remained mentally cognizant even though his body was letting him down dramatically. I know it’s a cliché but Frank truly deserves to be called salt-of-the-earth. Although unschooled he was smart in the ways of the world and full of joy and pizzazz and had an up-front interest in all that was going on about him. He was fun to be around and just tickled the hell out of me on many occasions with his sage commentaries, one-liners and eye-rolling opinions about the basic idiocies that surround us daily. He was a life-long fairly-liberal Democrat and just didn’t understand anybody who wasn’t.

I will miss him but, you know, 95 years is a long time to be on this planet and the rest of us should be so lucky to have his life and the honor and love of his extended family (albeit exponentially small since he outlived almost everybody) including me, the son-in-law he never really knew he had (although I always suspected he might have wised-up early on).

I salute you Frank Palmieri; and don’t worry about Dottie--I’ve got her back the rest of the way.