Walking through Brooklyn, Frenchy finds himself at a restaurant he had forgotten existed. It was called McAlenn's. It was a hamburger joint that had been open since he was a kid. He used to come with his father CAC years ago. As he stared at McAllen's he decided to get a table. He ordered himself a burger and sat outside the small Brooklyn joint. He began to think of his father and all the good times they had.

     Oh how he wishes his father had kept going, and had not done himself in. That he would've fought to the end like his Grandfather CC. His family had never been "big shots". They'd never grown to a point of Don or even Consigliere, but still Frenchy held them in high remarks. They didn't become Godfather or even CL, but they knew people. They talked to people constantly. He used to take place in some of the most interesting conversations that Frenchy would overhear during his little visits to the HQ. It wasn't just with his crew, or even just his hometown. His father and his grandfather alike knew, and talked to nearly everyone. There's so many people that Frenchy would hear about that weren't even affiliated with CAC. His father was a good man and talked to everyone.

     Right as Frenchy was thinking of CAC's friends, one walked up the sidewalk. His name was George, but everyone called him Big Joe. Big Joe noticed Frenchy and walked over. He greeted Frenchy with a kiss on the cheek, a greeting Frenchy was use to after his father doing it to all of his friends. Frenchy invited Big Joe to sit across the table, and they talked.

Big Joe: "What a surprise Frenchy! I haven't seen you since you were, ehhh, yay high."

     Big Joe gesture his hand about 3 feet off the ground.

Me: "Yeah I just came back recently, I had moved to Philly for a while... you know to try and block out my family's... well you know. I just recently came back to New York."

Big Joe: "I see. Why haven't you called? I would've been happy to give you a place to stay. "

Me: "I didn't need anywhere to stay. I came back with a crew. Rita_Hayworth's to be precise. Ends up my Dad and Grandfather knew some people in Philly too. Ha! Who would've guessed?"

Big Joe: "Doesn't surprise me. They were some talkative ones. So I guess that means you're back in the Mafia, huh? Didn't think you'd ever do that... not after seeing your father turn out the way he did. What made you decide to join up?"

Me: "I was once scared to join the Mafia. I was scared that it would drive me to retire in the same way my father did. I tried for so long to not bring my family's name back into this circle of crime, but that didn't work. Once you're in the Mafia, your whole family's in the Mafia. There's no leaving! There's no running away! It's not because of what you know. It's not because of the names you've heard that probably should have stayed secret. No! It's because of the people. All the wonderful people that would die for you simply because they know you would do the same. The Mafia is a family, and it has a stronger impact than any blood relation could possibly have.

     I joined, not because I felt obligated, not because of the fact that maybe I would have been WACKed for knowing too much otherwise, not because I owed it to my father. I joined because I needed it. I needed people that would have my back, even when I was in a losing battle. I needed the kind of trust my dad's friends had in him. And that is why I am here now. And that is why I love it here.

     When I saw how many people my Dad and Grandfather truly knew, that weren't even in his crew, it hit me that I wanted that. That is why I idolized my father. It wasn't because of the money and guns, it was because of the people he knew. It was because of the respect he had earned. The sad thing is though... I haven't done nearly as well as my father when it comes to reaching outside of my community. I haven't chatted to people in LV or CH. I've barely left my hometown. I talked to some of my Dad's old friends, but I fear that I haven't done enough. There's still so many people that I haven't talked to, whether my family knew them or they're new. And that scares me.

     I want to be remembered by mre than just the people of my crew. I want to be remembered by all the people of the Mafia, as "Frenchy, the guy who knew everyone". But alas that may not be possible. Sadly I've noticed that there's not nearly as many "global" conversations going on anymore. Most of the talking goes on withing the crews and hometowns. Maybe that's a good thing... but it may also be bad. I hate to sound pessimistic, but those crew swill not last forever, but the community as a whole will outlast them all.

    Sorry for rambling and ranting George, I have probably bored you."

Big Joe: "No not at all. I see where you're coming from. Many people have kept there prospects very limited lately to just their Crews, when there's an entire country to explore. There's so many more people. But shouldn't your Crew be the most important French? It just seems like you should have the tightest bonds with them."

Me: "Maybe so Joe, maybe so. I'm not really sure, and hell maybe no one is. It just seems like with so many people, it will profit you to know as many as possible."

     Frenchy finishes his burger, and stands up. He says his goodbyes to Big Joe, and begins to walk away. He ponders on whether or not his views makes sense. He decides to go and ask some more people. Maybe he'll get an answer.

"How important is it to make friends outside of your crew? Is it important at all?" 

John had just finished one of the best burger's he'd every had at this classic little burger joint and was standing on the corner, leaned up against a light standard, having a cigarette and thinking about the stories he'd heard of Brooklyn, when he overhears two men talking.  Trying not to make it obvious, he tries to pick up the details of the conversation, and he can relate to the younger mans thoughts.  While he's older than John, he is asking many questions that he can relate to.  Not wanting to inject himself into the conversation, he waits for them to part ways.  The younger of the two walks towards the corner and stops for the light, standing just feet from John before he says anything.

"Excuse me sir, didn't mean to listen in to your conversation, but did you say your name was Frenchy?"

The man turns his head with a slightly concerned look on his face "Yeah, I am.... Do I know you?"

"Actually no, well not exactly, but you knew my uncle.  I think he was in your crew for a while.  Big_Al?  He mentioned you in his journals."

That seemed to be the ice breaker needed.  Frenchy cracks a faint smile and turns to face John as he flicks his butt into the street.  "Yeah, I knew Al.  Didn't know he had any family left in New York"

John extends his hand "I'm just here for a few hours on business, I'm actually based out of Las Vegas.  You got time for a beer?  I heard what you were saying to that older fella and have a few thoughts"

Frenchy leads them down an alley to a small Speakeasy, one John never would have found on his own.  It's obvious Frenchy knows the place, and the people there, because they don't ask him a single question.  A quick look at him and they open the door.

Walking inside they hang up their coats and take a seat at a quiet table towards the back of the room.

"Frenchy" John says, "Can I call you Frenchy?  From what I gather, you and I have similar questions about this world.  About meeting other crews, Families and finding those select few you can call a true friend.  I can relate to this on many levels.

As the waitress brings over a bottle of whiskey, a bowl of ice and few glasses, John takes a moment to prepare the drinks before continuing.

"In my opinion, being in the mafia is different things to different people.  There is a tremendous security and feeling of family when you're in a great crew.  After my uncles death I bumped into my cousin at the funeral.  We had more than a few drinks and he talked to me about his father's life.  Al loved his family.  They made him feel welcome and secure.  But as I read through his journals, something was very clear to him at the time of his death.  It's your ambition that dictates how you handle yourself in this world"

Stopping for to light a cigar and take another drink, Frenchy is listening, but obviously looking for more details "What do you mean by ambition?"

"Some of us want to be in a crew.  Want to be Made and feel like part of something.  Once they have that feeling, it's hard for them to risk loosing it for a greater goal.  Others work quietly and barely communicate with their crew at all, happy to earn and help when asked, but in the background.  There is no right or wrong way, but if your dreams are bigger, are to one day be seen as a leader, forgetting rank and title, but as someone who is respected by everyone, for all the right reasons, well, you do need to know people and more importantly they need to know you, where you came from, and most importantly, who trusts you.  If you earn the respect of someone who is respected by the other leaders, that will help you achieve your goals.  Earning that respect comes with time and by creating the opportunity to work with other crews, and in this life, that means building one block at a time."

John stops, realizing he's dominating the conversation, something his uncle was know for, and looks at Frenchy with one last thought "From what I've heard about my uncle, I am proud to be his kin, but I realize that I have a lot to live up to.  My crew didn't know him well, so I need to show that I have learned from his mistakes and can be, on some levels, even better than he was.  Someday my kin will feel the same, but will have the benefit of two generations worth of experience, and more importantly, there will be a greater circle of friends and family to welcome them here."

Leaning back in his chair, sipping his whiskey as the smoke rolls of the tip of his cigar.  John just stares up at the ceiling, thinking about his uncle and all the hard work that needs to be done.