Let’s hope his cell mate is another GoodFella
Coda
Greg Bean

I don’t know whether to file this one under “A Cautionary Tale” or “Where Are They Now?”

If you’re a movie or fiction buff, you certainly remember the 1990 movie “GoodFellas” based on the novel by Nicholas Pileggi, and you likely remember Henry Hill, the mob informer played by Ray Liotta.

You probably also know that both were based on a true story, and that Henry Hill actually testified against several of his Lucchese Family brethren and helped send them to the slam.

But I’ll bet you don’t know what happened to Henry Hill after the movie ended, and I’ll bet you don’t know where he is, right at this minute.

So I’ll tell you.

He’s serving 180 days in the Lincoln County Jail in North Platte, Neb., which is pretty much the end of the earth as far as mob guys are concerned, and a real comedown for a thug whose most famous line was, “As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster.”

How Hill came to be in the Lincoln County Jail is a pretty weird story, but it seems that Henry has been drifting fairly aimlessly since his glory days. After spending some time in prison on the reduced sentence he got for informing (according to local legend, at one point the feds had him stashed at Marlboro Greens), he moved around a lot in the witness protection program, called the Howard Stern show from time to time and even wrote a book, “The Wiseguy Cookbook.”

But he was never too far from trouble. According to the North Platte Telegraph, he turned up in that community a while ago, went to work as a “menu consultant” at the Firefly Restaurant (apparently developing a new kind of meat sauce) and set about becoming a public nuisance. Last summer, he was stopped at the local airport for suspected drugs and, when tests came back in January, was arrested for cocaine and methamphetamine possession. He pleaded no contest and was given probation.

That probation fell apart Aug. 19, when he turned up at the probation office drunk (he blew a 0.343, four times the legal limit), took off, got involved in a hit-and-run accident and was finally arrested by cops who found him passed out on a table in the back room of the Firefly.

The judge, who concluded that more probation would have no beneficial effect, gave Hill six months in jail. Where he is today.

I think Henry’s story is very interesting in light of the Summer of Corruption here in central New Jersey, with so many of our public officials, hangers-on and informers looking at possible jail time for their nefarious behavior. It shines a light on the kind of life they might be looking at after the gavel falls.

It ain’t all peaches and cream, guys. On the positive side, I hear there’s an open job at the Firefly.

• • •

Speaking of the end of the earth, I drove to western Pennsylvania last week to pick my youngest son up after he graduated from technical school. He’s long complained about the backwoods nature of the place, but I guess I didn’t understand him fully until we stopped for dinner at a place called the Eat ’n Park. The following is part of an actual conversation that took place during the meal:

Me: The name of this place is kind of funny. Can you explain it?

Waitress : Explain what? It’s the Eat ’n Park.

Me: Well, what does it mean? Does it mean a park, like you’re eatin’ in a park like Central Park? Or does it mean Eat and then Park yourself down on a bench because you’re too stuffed to move? Or does it mean Eat ’n Then Go Park the Car Somewhere?

Waitress: It’s just the Eat ’n Park.

Me : Well, if it means parking the car, shouldn’t you park before you eat? Why eat, and then park? What would the car be doing while you eat?

Waitress: I don’t know. It’s the Eat ’n Park. Do you know what you want?

Me: Well, I’m thinking about the Whale of a Tail fish sandwich. Is it big? I’m pretty hungry.

Waitress : That’s why they call it a whale. Do you want tartar sauce or marinara?

Me: I’ve never had marinara on a fish sandwich before, but it sounds interesting. Just to be safe, I think I’ll have both.

Waitress: You can’t have both.

Me: Why not?

Waitress: Because you get a choice of one.

Me: Is that a policy? A company rule?

Waitress: The menu says choice of tartar or marinara. It doesn’t say choice of both.

Me: Can I have both if I pay extra?

Waitress: I don’t know. I’ll ask the manager. Anything else?

Me: Well, the sandwich comes with a choice of fries or Funyon Rings. Are those like onion rings?

Waitress: Pretty much exactly like onion rings.

Me: Well, what makes them different?

Waitress: What do you mean?

Me: Well, you call them Funyon Rings, which suggests there must be some difference from onion rings.

Waitress : They’re Funyon Rings because they’re fun. Do you want ’em?

Me: I’ve always thought onion rings are kind of fun, since I’m not really supposed to eat them on account of cholesterol. But since my wife isn’t here to disapprove, yes, I think I’ll try the Funyon Rings. Can I have ketchup with them?

Waitress: You want ketchup on the side, along with the tartar sauce and marinara?

Me: Yes, I think so.

Waitress: That’s three things.

Me: I’ll pay extra

(Time passes. Waitress enters stage left, carrying dinner, including three condiments in plastic cups)

Waitress: Will there be anything else?

Me: (tasting large whale sandwich): Well, this fish sandwich is pretty dry. Could I have a slice of lemon?

Waitress (rolling eyes): You just have to walk on the wild side, don’t you?

Me: Never mind, I’ll use the lemon slice from my iced tea. I asked for that without lemon.

Waitress: Whatever. Enjoy your meal.

Son: Eat ’n Park ’n Fun. You gonna finish those rings?

When Henry Hill gets out of jail, I think I know a place in Pennsylvania that needs a decent menu consultant.

Gregory Bean is executive editor of Greater Media Newspapers.