A White-Crime Tour Through My Hometown, Led By Ollie Shevin. Part II.

My only crime is caring too much. Caring too much about lighting fires.

Walking us through more of the wrongdoings in my hometown of Rye, NY is Oliver. Above: on the wall of Frank’s Barber shop is a sign that reads, “If you leave, you lose turn” – just murdering the English language.

The Post Road Market (known locally as “Jerry’s”) has fresh bread delivered every day at 4 a.m. My friend Mark’s younger brother and his friends drunkenly decided to take the bread for themselves, and were promptly arrested. I’d pay to watch his relentlessly strict parents receive his one free phone call.

Walking home from middle school, teasing between my friends Craig and Matt escalated into a standoff. Matt suddenly snatched the glasses off Craig’s face and tossed them down this hill into the forest. Matt ran off and we then spent 90 minutes unsuccessfully trying to find the glasses.

The father of our neighbors two doors down was actually a godfather – a genuine mob boss. The Sopranos are real.