Crossin "Yo-Yo" Bridges

Who ever heard of a name like Crossin is what I always wanted to know. My grandfather Josef 'the Sicilian' Bridges (he was called the 'Sicilian' because of his reputation as a notorious back-stabbing liar and braggart….he was also -as far as anyone can tell- known as the first official mook) claimed that he suggested the name to my mother because she conceived me in the back seat of his car while being driven over the Bayonne Bridge. (As to who was driving the auto at the time or even if automobiles existed in those days or even if the Bayonne Bridge had been built yet is another story but such is legend.) The yo-yo came later on. Being sick of getting teased in school all the time for 'crossin this' and 'crossin that' I demanded to be called something else…. Since I was fascinated with yo-yos -which had just come into play at the time- my friends all started calling me yo-yo.

I was different from the others in my family. For one I was artistic. I loved to draw, I loved the theater and I loved music. When I was in the 4th grade my teacher, Ms Pussy, handed me a cello that she had collecting dust in her closet..and the rest as they say is history. The problem was though I loved my cello I was never really very good at it…oh I was good enough to play in small family gatherings on Friday nights but not nearly good enough to make a living playing it despite all the practicing. What I secretly longed to do professionally was to become a marionette. Ever since my grandfather took me to the House of Make-Believe when I was just a kid where I saw a traveling puppet show I longed to create my own puppet troupe. I was completely taken in by how real they seemed and how this guy could manipulate those strings. At night in my room I'd create my own puppet show and do things on my stage that I only dreamed of doing in real life.

Unfortunately for me as I got older my secret life become so obsessional that reality and illusion became seriously blurred. I even started to have these recurrent dreams that I was a puppet! After a while I couldn't tell where I ended and the puppet began and before I knew it I was blaming the puppet for doing things I'm too ashamed to admit even now years after I'm dead and gone. All I know is I woke up dead one mourning in the local insane asylum with my favorite puppet lying peacefully between my legs.