Giving thanks, even this year

Under any circumstances, Jay “Iceman” Piccirillo is a large figure, by dint of both body and personality.

He fills a room in more ways than one.

He is 320 pounds, give or take 10, 15 pounds here and there, largely depending on when last he ate, a power- lifter and the owner of Micalizzi’s Italian Ice at 712 Madison Ave.

Put a ridiculous turkey hat atop his 6- foot frame, its legs hanging around his ears, its head and wattle flopping on the big man’s forehead, and you’ve got a visual image that’s hard to shake.

That was the picture on Nov. 14, when, once again, Iceman and The Crew, a colorful assortment of city officials, police, bodybuilders, motorcycle enthusiasts, union guys and other persons of interest gathered in the Micalizzi’s parking lot to accept contributions to the Marilyn Goldstone Foundation, an organization dedicated in the name of the late community figure. This is the 27th year the foundation has run a food drive.

With her signature foghorn voice, fashionable eyeglass frames and flaming red hair, Goldstone was a fixture on the city’s political and charitable scenes.

The Goldstone Foundation is, of course, only one of the dozens of efforts organized by churches and agencies in the city. But it’s got to have the most colorful supporters.

Piccirillo, his hat doing everything except gobble- gobbling, prowls the parking lot as cars and trucks pull in with food — lots of turkeys — and checks.

John Vazzano, he of the eponymous Vazzy’s food empire, a crew member in good standing, helps organize things. Vinny

Pezzella, owner of V& V Foods; Fred Garrity Jr., a prolific fundraiser perhaps best known for starting the annual CT United motorcycle ride; Tammy Silva, of People’s United Bank; and Bill Schietinger, of AMR Ambulance, the foundation’s treasurer, and others, were also on hand.

The Crew, as noted in this space in the past, is a core of people whose connections and influence reach into high, low, sacred, profane and otherwise unquantifiable sections of the city of Bridgeport and beyond. Their hearts seem to be as big as some of the members of “The Crew.”

They have raised more money for various causes than would be possible to list here.

And this Thanksgiving season, one that is upended by the virus and the fatigue that comes with it, the need for people to help each other out, with food, with any kind of attention, is more important than ever.

Micalizzi’s is in a neighborhood that was once overwhelmingly known as Bridgeport’s Little Italy.

These days, the commercial strip running from North Avenue to the Five Corners and beyond includes offerings of Mexican, Chinese, Brazilian and Portuguese fare, along with fewer Italian restaurants.

But Micalizzi’s Ice is still a Bridgeport landmark.

“It’s been tough,” Piccirillo said. “I got killed by all the events canceled, the parades, the parties. I’m lucky. I own all this stuff,” he said, gesturing around his little compound. “If I had loans, I’d be in trouble.”

As with many families, the Daly celebration on Thursday will be considerably smaller than usual, with our children — now with their own children — choosing to stay closer to their own homes, out of state, and less inclined to venture down to Connecticut.

It’s disappointing, of course, and discouraging, too, as this plague shows no signs of retreat. In fact, at this writing, the virus bears down on us relentlessly, an unseen, grinding threshing machine.

Mrs. Daly and I consider ourselves fortunate on a number of counts. On the impact scale of all the pain this virus has caused, we fall into the “inconvenienced” category.

Neither we nor our family have been sick. We have not lost jobs or businesses or homes, like millions of other Americans. We have not lost loved ones. Those people are at the top of the scale.

And on Tuesday, from 9 a. m. to 3 p. m., at the Original Vazzy’s restaurant at 513 Broadbridge Ave. in Stratford, the agencies that are on the list of beneficiaries for the foundation food drive will pick up their food.

As of Sunday, the Year 2020, the Year of COVID, the Year of Unprecedented Political Paralysis, has 39 days to go. Not that anyone’s counting. A vaccine is coming.

There are many things to be thankful for, even this year.