born in the hills beverly in '63. only son of a rich mom and dad. but dad was a jerk mom did not work. it drove him mad. mom and dad died late last july and he got the house and the plane. now he just laughs and smokes his coke all day. from new york to toyko. its all about the dough. its the coin. its the cash. its the currency stash. its the money the keeps us going. the streets of brooklyn are riddled with crooks and dope dealers that don't give a fuck. its all about hustling and scheming and making a buck. they rule the block with one hand on the glock. its the ghetto that keeps 'em in. but they don't have a chance. its the same circumstance in the end. he passes the years from atop his john deere surveying the fields from above. its not much to some but he's happy to do what he loves. its been apples and pears and a hundred state fairs. nothing more than a quiet simple life. his only regret is he never found time for a wife.