Uncle Pat

My Great-Uncle Pascoe - we called him Uncle Pat - earned his license to practice law around the time of the Prohibition and smoked pipes and cigars much of his life. He was also fond of Manhattans as were all of his siblings. In fact, my grandfather would often mix up a pitcher and a number of his brothers would arrive promptly at the house at 4:00 to visit and have a glass. One of my favorite stories was about when Uncle Pat was offered a substantial sum to work for the "Capone boys." Uncle Pat would always say "Capone" with three syllables, so I accept that as Gospel as the correct pronunciation. Anyway, the amount often quoted was $1000 a week as a retainer. This was during a time when a nice apartment in Chicago would run you about $45 a month. Well, Pascoe was the oldest of a large family and he was expected to help out with the bills so he asked his father whether he should accept the offer. His father said, "I'm not going to tell you what to do but remember this: you can only say "no" once." Despite growing up with the Capone family in the neighborhood and considering them friends, he found a way to decline. Uncle Pat had a long and successful career and was my favorite Great-Uncle until he passed away in his 90s.  While I don't have one of his pipes, we do, on occasion, raise a Manhattan to his memory.  At such times, we toast with the traditional family invocation, "Confusion to our enemies."