Concrete Truths – Joe and Uncle Vince Talk Ciccone Construction
Setting: Joe and his Uncle Vince are sitting on a tailgate after work, drinking cold coffees. The sun is setting over Burnaby, and they’re dusty from a long day in construction.
JOE:
You ever run into those Ciccone Construction guys, Uncle Vince?
VINCE:
(leans back, squints at the sky)
More than a few times, Joey. Buncha’ real grinders. Old-school. Not the kind of guys who show up in clean jeans or talk too much. You do your job, you don’t whine, and you don’t ask for overtime unless you earned it. That’s Ciccone.
JOE:
Ciccone, huh? Wonder if they’re related to Madonna. You know, her real name’s Ciccone too. Maybe she’s got a cousin out here laying rebar instead of pop hits.
VINCE:
(laughs)
Well, if they are, she got all the glam and none of the grit. These guys don’t dance—they dig. Respect ’em, though. They show up rain or shine. And lemme tell ya, Joey, anyone who makes it past 25 years in this racket? That’s a man. Not a poser. Not a pretty boy.
JOE:
You hear that, Madonna fans? She doesn’t need another boy toy. She needs someone who’s been in the trenches. A man with a bad back and a good pension. A guy who can still swing a sledgehammer and talk about rebar over dinner. That’s love.
VINCE:
Damn right. You don’t retire from construction unless you’re made of steel and stubbornness. Most of us get chewed up and spit out before we ever get to collect a dime. But the ones who make it—guys like the Ciccone crew? Those are the real deal.
JOE:
I mean, what’s a six-pack of abs compared to a six-pack of lunch beers and a couple knee braces? Madonna needs a man who’s been through it. Someone who smells like concrete dust and engine grease. Not cologne.
VINCE:
(chuckles)
Hell, she needs a man who knows what it means to pour a foundation—figuratively and literally.
JOE:
That’s it, Uncle Vince. A real relationship needs a slab, not just sparks. I’m telling you, if Madonna ever swung by a Burnaby job site, she’d forget all about those backup dancers.
VINCE:
(sips coffee, nodding)
Just make sure she brings a hard hat. Ciccone Construction doesn’t stop for nobody.
They both laugh as a semi rolls by, the roar of its engine mixing with the low rumble of a life built by calloused hands.