As I look back on my high school days, I remember many great memories with many great friends.

But for some reason, the adventures I had with Frankie Bruzzi are the ones that make the best stories.

Whenever we go camping, my children love to hear the mishaps of Frankie and their dad.

Frank and I were co-section leaders for the saxophone section in the marching band. We would frequently carpool together to school and band practice – and since Frank had his own truck, he usually was the one that drove.

We had stopped at Sheetz and got our typical after band practice snack – a bag of Snyder’s Picadilly Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips – Mountain Dew – and  a pair of Tijuana Mama pickled sausages.

As we rounded the curves into Burtville, I finished my hot sausage – and raised the plastic pouch to my lips, sucking down the red vinegar, and erupting in a huge “AH!” worthy of a Coca-Cola commercial.

Frankie asked, “Is that good?”

Of course it was good. It was extremely spicy, extremely salty, and extremely sour.

So Frank followed suit, and inhaled his leftover  spicy vinegar.

Unfortunately, having not honed his taste buds for such extremes, Frank’s palette decided to reject the pickled goodness.

Gag. Cough. “Josh, take the wheel!”
Then the cool autumn breeze whipped into the cab as Frank, maintaining his highway speeds, rolled down the window, and leaned his entire torso out of the truck.

I frantically tried to maintain control of the truck, while Frankie expelled every last bit of his Tijuana Mama all over Route 6, all the while keeping his foot on the gas pedal.

“I told you to take the wheel!” Frankie yelled, still spitting and hacking in the wind.
“I’m trying, I’m not used to driving from this side of the road!” I hollered back. I was simultaneously frightened for my life and laughing hysterically.

Frankie recovered and pulled back into the car, still coughing and swigging Mountain Dew in an effort to clear his pallet, while scolding me for not warning him of the intensity of the Tiujana Mama juice.

The Court of Angels in Smethport will be the location for this year’s Bridal Blitz and Fashion Show on October 15th. The event will feature local businesses and home based companies to local residents preparing for weddings.

Event planner Jen McDonald of Duke Center says, “I know many people travel outside of the area to larger cities when planning for a large party or a wedding, not knowing who or where to find local assistance.” She hopes that by inviting local merchants, to encourage wedding shoppers to think local, “The Bridal Blitz is a way for people to get together and show off their talents, and trades as well as a way for local people to come and find out who is in the area that would love to help them save time and money on their event. “

The event is free and open to the public, which according to McDonald, is something unique, “Most Bridal events force a pre-registration and charge a fee just to attend.”

The Fashion show will feature models displaying various wedding dresses and tuxedos, as well as multiple floral displays.

“We want to help people make their dream wedding possible,” says McDonald, who hopes the Bridal Blitz will help people plan their dream wedding – but, she says, even the perfect wedding can have those little things that go wrong that even the best planning can’t fix, “When my husband and I got married just over fourteen years ago everyone was seated and waiting for the ceremony to begin when we started to line up we found that my sister, one of the brides maids, had forgotten her shoes! Thankfully someone was able to go get them from my mom’s house just in time. We thought for sure she was going to have to stand up there barefoot! “

I’ve always wanted to grow a beard – and now that I’ve finally been able to grow a good thick lower mane – I’ve decided that I really like it.

A good beard is a thing of beauty – and worthy of admiration. Too often we see beards, and we think – “homeless bum” – and to be honest – many beards deserve such a label.
But a well-kept and groomed beard is definitely an achievement that ought to be honored.

So – to pay such honor – The Roulette Rebel presents to you: The Best Beards of All Time.

Abraham Lincoln

I’ve written about Johnny Colussy before – but to recap – Johnny is a fixture in the small town of Roulette. I’m not sure his exact condition – but he’s not quite like everyone else. There are a hundred politically incorrect names he’s been called over the years. None of which I think I should be calling him. I’ll just say that he thinks, talks, and acts differently than everyone else.

Johnny always walked around Roulette with his pet dog – Henry. Henry was a white dog with brown spots. Henry needed no leash. Henry loved Johnny more than anything, and would do anything to please him.

Henry was never more than two feet from Johnny’s side. If Johnny was in the Bill’s Kendall Store – Henry waited patiently at the door next to the blue Olean Times Herald delivery box, carefully looking each person in the eye as they walked in and out, and patiently smiling – in that way that all friendly dogs smile.

Henry was well-fed and well-loved.

One day – Johnny came walking down the road – with Henry – and six or seven little white puppies with brown spots.

Apparently, Henry was a “Henrietta”.

My dad, who was always patient with Johnny, and treated him as though he weren’t “different,” saw Johnny’s pups and asked him -
“Johnny! What are you going to name all those pups!”

Johnny, beaming as though he had whelped them all himself, replied, “I’m gonna name them all HEN-E-RY.”

Puzzled, my father asked him, “Why are you going to name them all Henry?”

Johnny’s response proved that he was smarter than we all gave him credit. Through a big pumpkin grin, Johnny replied, “ Cause when I call HEN-E-RY – they ALL come!”

Drabee’s Mini Mart is Roulette Pennsylvania’s ONLY  Convenience store!

We’ve got  - Groceries – Lotto – Cigarettes – Snuff – Deli Meats and Cheeses – Toilet Paper – Coffee – DVD Rentals – Ice Cream – Sandwiches – Subs – Pizza – Drinks – Newspapers – and MORE!

So for the past few weeks – I’ve traveled over the hill from Bradford to my sleepy little hometown so many times that I’ve lost count.

I’ve had several clients for website design that I’ve had to meet with – and my grandmother passed away.

So – getting ready for the funeral – visiting with family – going through grandmother’s things – getting her home ready to sell – and moving furniture – I’ve been welcomed by those familiar hills so many many times.

Yesterday – I rode over with my friend Brian to load up a truckload of furniture.
I gave him the “grand tour” of that little town –
there were stories by every tree and every driveway – they were just hanging there – in the humid air – like apples waiting to be picked.

“I used to visit that house on my paper route.”
“That hill is where the old TV tower used to be.”
“That girl – we used to ride the bus together.”
“My grandmother used to live in that house.”
“My grandfather’s ashes are buried under that crab-apple tree.”
“I was camping out in my hammock right there when a bear crossed the river and scared me back into the house.”

Roulette – I’ve heard some people say that she looks prettiest through the rear view mirror –

but she’ll always be home sweet home to me.