Whenever I think of Gypsy
Boy: My Life in the Secret World of the Romany Gypsies I think of the
abysmal service of US Airways, a topic I am trying to consciously avoid on this
blog. Plus, that isn’t really fair to
autobiographer Mikey Walsh who went through a lot to escape his past, learn to
read and write and then go on to draft a book.
So I will try to separate my miserable travel to and from Philadelphia
this week from the time I spent enjoying this sad story. Honestly this book and the hopes of a Philly
cheesesteak with Loyal Blog Reader Kiley are the only things that got me
through.
I have been curious about Gypsies ever since my mom dragged
into the underworld that is My Big Fat
Gypsy Wedding on the hit-producing network TLC. I think the white trash folks featured on
that show are the Irish Gypsies, who apparently copied the Romany Gypsy
lifestyle of being a “traveller.” This
translates into living in trailers, rejecting education, and having the
absolute worst and trashiest taste in everything. Who wouldn’t want to copy that lifestyle?
Poor Walsh was a misfit for this crew from the start, and
though he was close to his Mom, I think she should have protected him more than
she did. This story was sad, but
ultimately inspiring since Walsh escaped and managed to live his life the way
he wanted to.
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