I can't buy the idea that the catbox squatter has any position in the Mafia, living in that mess.
Even the lowest class Mafioso brag about their Italian loafers and drive fancy cars.
Squat the clown lives in a hovel full of fugly, mismatched, cheap kitsch.
Stuff that was junk fifty years ago isn't antique, it's just old junk.
Actually, it's common--or it used to be common--in the culture of organized crime to live in such a way that one looked considerably less affluent than one was. There were some flamboyant ones, such as Alphonse Capote and Willie Bioff, but on the whole it is, or was, the usual practice to be discreet about wealth.
In giving the old dude his award for #02 Top DUmmie of 2010 (two years ago, not this past year, when he rose only to #05), I connected all the dots.
The old dude's wife goes to Switzerland--Davos, no less--with Mrs. Tutweiler down the street quite often, and it's obvious what that's for. She's checking up on their money there.
Now, on the offhand chance that I connected the dots wrong, how does one explain the old dude's Streisandian digs and his large spread in the third most-affluent county in the United States? It's not cheap where he lives, and I suspect even the Polaroid trust-fund kiddie Pedro Picasso would be hard-pressed to afford it.
The old dude's father had been an honest working-man, earning bread by the sweat of his brow, and couldn't have possibly left his son a fortune or something.
And so this leads one to where?--maybe like the Bostonian Billionaire, he married money?
His wife does seem to have some exquisite taste in culture and somesuch, as if she were the product of girls' private schools and one of the Seven Sisters of the Ivy League, all of which suggests Old Money and Much Money. But why would a rich heiress marry a rough uncouth kid (I'm guessing they married about 1969, 1970) whose only remarkable accomplishment in life had been two years spent in the U.S. Navy, the son of a humble blue-collar working-man?
And with her Old and Much Money, if that was the case, she'd certainly shop for a Grand Duke, at the least a count, instead of the then-young old dude.