…a story of Christmas present, past and future.  by Harry Conlon

Frank Scicchitano, master portrait painter specializing in sports card portraiture of sports legends. Seriously, go check out his work. What a talent this guy is! In the small world of this type of artist, surely Frank is a well known superstar.

I met Frank about 5 or so months ago in some discussion group on LinkedIn dot com. We sparred with some really fun ranks on each other in other conversations and one thing lead to another and eventually Frank made a pass at me and said he wanted to……I’M KIDDING!!! See, that’s the kind of shit we mess with each other about. It livens up ANY boring conversation thread. Frank and I start an argument about ANYTHING and everybody starts freaking out and sending us “private replies” all worried and shit…..it’s hysterical! (well, to Frank and I it is…). So anyway, that’s how I know Frank. Most of you know that I am an “Audio Hound”, I love audio files of all sorts, the weirder, the better. I have a recording of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis trying to cut a commercial for one of their movies. This recording is a perfect representation of our unique friendship. Since Frank is too fucking stupid to download an audio file, I send you now to where I originally found the Martin/Lewis recording…(great website for this sort of stuff too!)

http://www.aprilwinchell.com/audio/

Scroll a little more then half way down to

Things You Probably Weren’t Supposed to Hear

Listen to the Martin Lewis bit. That’s Harry n’ Frank.

So Frank sends me an email one day and says he wants my address so he can send my son Harrison something for Christmas. About all Frank knew about my son is that he’s 15 and a sports freak. I ask him what he wants to send, he gives me this explanation that he’s got some sports related proofs and shit laying around gathering dust and maybe he’d like to have them….

Now it’s kind of spooky.

Harrison’s collection of sports cards, I would guess, is upwards of 50 to 70 thousand cards. He’s crazy about them. He’s crazy about sports (baseball and football mostly). If he reads a card, he’ll never forget those stats! (I pray to God every night to give him that kind of passion for his school work!)

So like the dumb ass he is, he loses my address. He calls me. I had never spoken with him before. I knew who it was as soon as answered my “Hello?” (I think he said “HUMP! HEY FUCKER!….”)

I ask him for a better explanation of what he’s sending. “Some stupid fucking Yankee’s shit buttons, and some baseball cards” he did the artwork for and the final product “pre production proofs” AND he adds “complete with fucking holes punched in the center…making them fucking worthless!” {sorry for all the ‘fucks’, that’s how the man talks. His words, not mine. He has no formal education that I can detect}

AND he knows nothing of the value of sports cards. At least not to my son.

I asked Frank to autograph them. He said he would be flattered to do so. When my son opens the box and knows the story behind them, he will be in awe. Cards with a history are the best cards of all!

Have a look at this. Martin Conlon, famous sports photographer back in the depression, great uncle twice removed or some such thing. Some of the most valuable sports cards ever produced. His reproductions are some of the most popular in the market today. (Yeah, we like baseball cards)

Click Here

He will take these Frank Scicchitano autograph cards and seek out for the rest of his life the stars they portray, and have them autograph it too. These cards will be kept in a special display case that when opened, a recording of a choir singing a lovely “C” note will play, and my son will do his best Vanna White for those who are being shown….

Late Christmas night he will still be studying his new cards and one of us will ask him “So, what was your favorite present?” He will most likely look up and dryly answer “are you serious?”

When I look at the big picture of this whole story, (the odds and all) of this New Jersey artist hooking up a teenage sports freak all the way out in Phoenix with the coolest gift of the season, well I am amazed. This New Jersey Artist, jaded by Christmas’s past, has himself become the epitome of Christmas Spirit! If you believe otherwise, well, to quote my dear friend Frank Scicchitano, “you’re full of shit!”

Frank Scicchitano, highly spoken of in this house I assure you!

Frank, in words I’m sure you’ll understand – Merry Fuckin’ Christmas you hump!

The box he shipped came yesterday. I’m sitting at the kitchen table on the laptop, working on my book. Harrison, home for Christmas break, is coming from the kitchen with his lunch. Front door is open (the weather here is fantastic!) and up walks the Fed Ex guy. Harrison goes for the door. Both dogs begin to cuss out the delivery guy, Harrison is trying to keep them back – he fears for the drivers life as these two fearsome beast may tear him limb from limb. “OH SHIT, That’s got to be Frank’s package!” I think to myself and rush to intercept. I know how stupid Frank is, and sure enough, as big as the box itself he’s written “MASTER HARRISON CONLON” and Harrison wants his box! BIG wrestling match begins, two dogs, a teenage football star, and a 53 year old father. Had not been for the dogs I would have never made it to the security of my bedroom and locked the door.

BangBangBang he knocks and calls out “Who’s that from?!”

“Frank!” I answer.

“Who the heck is Frank?!” he asks.

“He’s a friend of mine!” I answer.

“You don’t have any friends named Frank!” he says.

(I’m opening the package while he hollers from the other side of the door)

“What the hell do you know about  all who my friends are?! Go away! You’ll find out all about Frank on Christmas morning! GET! Eat your lunch, leave me alone!”

“JEESE DAD…….(who the hell is Frank?!)

Who the hell IS Frank Scicchitano? Have a look. http://tanoart.com/

(the exploits of Frank and Harry can be found/followed at LinkedIn dot com under Creative Writers and Designers group)

“You da man now dawg!” – William Forrester in Finding Forrester

Debbie and I thank you Frank.

Merry Christmas!

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