To relieve boredom here in Tucson, I've been watching television series on my laptop. I have watched every episode of The Pacific, Boardwalk Empire, and Sons of Anarchy. I've read a lot of books about WW2 in the Pacific and seen a few movies too. My father was a navy radioman there, and when I read a book or see a film about the Pacific war, I think of him and try to get to know him better. Boardwalk Empire is a tale of corruption and crime in Atlantic City just after Prohibition. It's a pretty good show. I like Steve Buscemi, who plays the main character, the corrupt Treasurer of Atlantic City. I first saw him in Trees Lounge and thought he was a fine actor. He still is.
Sons of Anarchy has its problems, but I got obsessed with it and watched 36 episodes in two weeks. It's about a motorcycle gang in the fictional town of Charming, CA. Lots of good stuff: gun running in league with the IRA, police corruption, nazis, and more. Stephen King was in one episode, playing a person who disposed of bodies. Scary-looking criminal.
When I was a kid, everyone just loved gangsters and motorcycle guys. Marlon Brando in The The Wild Ones saying, "Johnny don't make no deals with no cops." We used to mimic Brando in that line. Later I knew quite a few motorcycle gang members. One roomed with some of us in Pittsburgh for awhile. He parked his Harley Davidson in the living room. Every night, he insisted on fighting the rest of us. His nickname was Big Boy, and he was a tough character, so I never refused. Most of these men went to prison for drug dealing. My youngest brother tells me that they still hang out in their clubhouse, but now in their 60s and 70s a couple of them have taken up knitting! My brother once met Sonny Barger, maximum leader of the Hell's Angels, in Cleveland in my uncle's workshop. Sonny often bought carved glass that my uncle made by sandblasting. Choppers and a truck would show up at the shop, a couple of Sonny's crew would come in, and they'd take out the glass. When my uncle was dying and in a lot of pain, some motorcyclers visited with some special brownies. They left them in the kitchen. Later that day, a couple of Cleveland's finest, who knew my uncle well, came to see him. Like good cops, they noticed the brownies. My uncle was polite and offered them some. I think they had a great rest of the day. I have the same name as my uncle, so if I am ever surrounded by Hell's Angels, I may have an ace in the hole.