The 10 Commandments of Waterbury
And on the 8th day, God created the Brass City.
I’ve long said that Waterbury is the center of the universe. Maybe it’s because I’ve grown up in the shadow of the Mixmaster, which is such a marvel of engineering that it looks like it might have been created by the Almighty.
But it started me thinking about Holy Land, on top of that mountain, with the beautiful cross that shines so bright over our fair city.
What if Moses had suddenly reappeared, and walked down Ridge Street to Baldwin carrying those two tablets? What would they say? Here are some of my smart ass ideas as to what those Ten Commandments would look like.
Thou Shalt Not Swim in the Lakewood Reservoir
Ewwwwwwww. I remember back in the day when the Italian Festival was held here. A kid jumped in, and emerged with slime all over his back. I almost tossed up my capicola — almost.
Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor Cheshire’s wealth
Head down East Main, past Blackie’s, and you start seeing clean streets. They can swim fast, and they drive nice cars, so don’t be jealous.
Thou Shalt Not Road Rage Through the Construction Zone on I-84
Give someone the finger, then try to get away through bumper to bumper traffic all day and all night — They’ll catch up to you quickly, bad move.
Thou Shalt Not Deface the Holy Land cross
No description needed, it’s just dumb. Plus, Neil O’Leary and his force are watching you.
Thou Shalt Eat Frankie’s in the Warm Summer Months
There’s nothing like hitting Frankie’s on Watertown Ave after catching a game at the stadium in the Summertime. Nothing.
Thou Shalt Honor the Blessed Sweet Maria
You’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven after you eat anything that comes out of this Waterbury treasure. Don’t die, though. We need to keep her in business.
Thou Shalt Honk Your Horn and Yell “Fore!” as You Drive Past East Mountain Golf Course
Why? Because being a jerk and distracting a golfer is fun for us dumb folks.
Remember that one?
Thou Shalt Feel Italian as You Drive Down Highland Ave.
AYYYYY PAISAN! Let’s go grab a pop at D’Amelio’s, another next door to HBC, get a grinder at Avventura’s, and pick up some sfogliatellas at the IGA. Salut!
Thou Shalt Not Expect to Meet Thy Future Wife at Mr. Happy’s
I know that I’m going to incur the wrath of the 1,527 gentlemen that have actually done this over the many years at this Waterbury institution. But, there, I said it.