Say whatever you want, but Carmine pays his own way

I’m madder than Nikola Tesla when he saw Edison’s patents over the fact that some readers out there don’t appreciate (and are apparently jealous of) what I do day in and day out.

Look, you all know ol’Carmine is not one to toot his own horn, or to let my ego get a little too big for my oversized britches, but I have to admit I get a tinge upset when I read some of the comments anonymous people leave beneath this column online without having the guts to say who they are.

Now, I don’t want you to think that I really care about what these nincompoops write, believing as I do that there is no such thing as bad press. But I gotta point out that I put my name big and bold above this column every week, and stand behind every word that I write — whether I write it myself or approve what my editor so kindly brings to the table.

Fact is, I wouldn’t feel bad if these lily-livered commentators from Park Slope would back up their harsh words with their real names, which I figure will never happen, because unlike me — as I said before — they don’t have any guts.

There was one recent comment that really made my blood boil. Some guy accused me using government money to pay for my legs, otherwise known as my trusty steed Tornado.

So to all youse out there who are worried about where the money comes from to pay for my wheels, you can rest assured that it is 100 percent Santa Maria dinero.

And it’s money well spent, by Jiminy!

Oh, and by the way, that elevator that got me back on the subway for the first time in 30 years wasn’t put there just so I could get to Coney Island and have a hot dog. No siree. In fact, it was put there to get the station in compliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act. And it was a long time coming. Getting me on the subway is just a bonus!

Speaking of going to the doctor’s office, a funny thing happened to me the other day when I was getting my monthly check-up. I’m sitting on Tornado minding everybody else’s business when this little kid comes up to me and says “Hey mister. I know just how you feel. My mom ties me in the stroller too whenever I have to get a shot.”

Oh, and I gotta tell ya, not all the feedback I get for my work is bad. In fact, and as I’ve said before, a lot of people just walk up to me on the street and tell me how great I am.

It’s easy to do, because me and Tornado stick out like a sore thumb wherever we go. So inevitably, people come up to me and ask “Hey, you Carmine?” as if there’s some other guy wearing a cape riding around Brooklyn on a scooter.

Then, they tell me what a great writer I am and how they love to read the column and how I tell it like it is.

So when my fans ask me how I’m feeling, I do what I always do: screech! But I let them know that as long as I’m sitting on Tornado, I’ll be fine. Besides, who wants to hear about my problems? I’d rather talk about your problems that I solved.

So to all you naysayers out there, I’ll let you know that I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing for as long as I can, and I don’t have to stand up to do it.

As always, I’ll screech at you next week!

Read Carmine every Saturday on BrooklynDaily.com. E-mail him at DiegoVega@aol.com!