You wouldn't think an obituary for a robust woman in an apron who leaned out of an apartment window and called her son home for dinner, repeating his name Anthony twice, would establish any fame (or money) for the woman, or the young lad who weaves his way through the neighborhood to an expected plate of pasta.
But when you combine these elements, add a North End Boston locale, and advertise Prince spaghetti for 13 years, your notoriety is assured.
Today's NYT carries the obituary for Mary Fiumara, 88, the mother who did just that: leaned out of window and appeared in an ad for Prince spaghetti.
From my imagination, I always thought Anthony resembled a youthful Phil Esposito, gangly legs and skinny arms, weaving his way through the neighborhood to arrive at the top of the stairs to momma's welcome.
Phil of course was a grown man at the time, playing hockey then for the Boston Bruins, from Canada and not the North End. But he is Italian, and so to me, the image fit.
Sam Roberts gives us the nuts and bolts of how the commercial came to be, who was in it, how much Anthony made from the commercial, and the plot it followed. I was surprised to learn the commercial ran for 13 years. That's longer than nearly any TV series, or show.
The tag line in the voice-over tells us that "Wednesday is Prince spaghetti day." The phrase began ubiquitous, almost as much as "You don't have to be Jewish to love Levy's Jewish rye bread."
Commercials are mini-movies. They have producers and location scouts. Mr. Roberts explains how these people worked together to create a very long running classic commercial.
Our early 70s Sunday roller hockey games in the fall in the East 32nd street school yard were once met with just such a location scout. A young woman, girl, really, with a clipboard came by and was looking for kids to be in a Frito-Lay commercial. She wanted kids, not anyone adult looking.
We were a ragtag group of kids and young adults, some married, who wore flannel shirts or old Rangers jerseys, sometimes with numbers. (I was No. 3, for Ron Harris) No one really looked like they were on a "team." Player selection for sides was very fluid.
The young woman was genuine, and "signed" up, I think, five of the players, three of whom were Burek brothers. One of the other players was Nicky Grivas. If there was a fifth player, I don't remember who it was. I don't think anyone was over 21.
A commercial was made at a later date, in that school yard, with those five kids, all in their "uniforms," with their skates, sticks and pucks. They appeared huddled in a corner of the school yard, arranged in a bit of a photoshoot triangle, and I think it was Joey Burek who had the line, "Try 'em, you'll like 'em," said while holding a chip and pushing it forward, as an offering, with everyone else sort of cheering. If you blinked twice, you might have missed their part in the commercial.
The commercial played for years. They got checks, or their parents got checks. I don't know how much they got, and when I asked one of the brothers I met recently at a cookout, he didn't seem to remember.
I can't find the commercial on YouTube, but I can still see it in my mind. Jay Leno did Frito-Lay commercials. None of the five got their own show, or a garage full of cars.
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