Nick had to give its owner, Tony Mangiullo, a lot of credit for his equality. Diversity at its finest, Nick thought, as the cab rolled past storefronts selling hot peppers and Tejano music off Armitage on the West Side. The West Side is where the second wave, the next generation of blues guitarists, got their start in the late fifties. The blues of Buddy Guy, Magic Sam, Otis Rush, and Elmore King all had roots in these neighborhoods. Billy Lyons was the first to give some of those guys their start. Inside, Tony ran the pool balls around a green felt table with delicate ease. He was a skinny man with a long face, a thin beard, and mustache. He wore a Hawaiian shirt and a white Panama Jack hat. No matter how cold it was, Tony looked like he’s just stepped off the cruise dock at Ocho Rios. Nick stopped the cue ball in midroll. “Nick, my friend,” Tony said in a lilting Italian accent, shaking Nick’s hand. “How are you, man?” “A woman I love just blew me off and I got splattered with slush on Clark Street.”
