His name is Edgar, but they call him Chino.  To me he’s Pops.

Pops isn’t typical.  He’s not the typical dad or the typical husband or the typical grandpa.  He’s not the typical anything.  He marches to the beat of his own drum and he plays that drum LOUDLY.

Even though I’ve had a lifetime to try and figure him out I can’t.  But sometimes it’s fun to try and take a deeper look.  What’s going on in that head?

Here’s the first in a short series of conversations with Chino.  This one is about his beginnings in NYC.