FRED

FRED

Fred is dead! Fred owes me ten dollars. Fred and I made a bet. Whoever died

first owed the other ten dollars. Fred lost!! I hope it takes a lot of time before I

collect. I know Fred is waiting for me somewhere. I’m also sure he will come up with

a reason why he doesn’t owe me the ten dollars.

Fred and I met when we were both nine, or so he said. I didn’t like Fred much

back then. I thought he was a bragger and didn’t think he was that good at anything.

Fred was the worst athlete of all of us. I didn’t like his dog Friskie, or his squirty

younger brother Stevie. I not only didn’t like his mother, I feared her.

When any of us guys tried to call on Freddy to join the game, Fred’s mother

answered the door. Her arms were folded like an iron gate. She never asked what

we wanted. She just would say, “Fred has to study. Go away!” It was difficult for

Fred to improve his athletic ability, since his mother would seldom let Fred join us.

Fortunately for us, we only called on Fred when we were short a player and that was

rare.

As we got older, now in our teens, Fred would join us on my porch. Most of us

talked about the games we had played that day. When we discussed girls or

women, it was with longing and despair . We talked mostly about our friends’

mothers, when those friends weren’t there. We were certain they were available to

us. We just had to ask the right way. We also liked that their mothers had done it.

Their kids were living proof.

Fred was the only one who claimed he was getting it, “regularly!!” We hated him

for it. Fred also claimed that when he was eight, a twelve -year -old girl baby sitter

had raped him. We hated him for that too. We called him a liar. I hated him because

my older sister said Fred was handsome.

Fred got a job at the local Sunoco Service Station. Fred constantly bored us with

how all the girls who came into the station asked Fred out. That wasn’t bad enough.

We also had to hear about how strong Tim was and how large Tim’s muscles were.

Tim was a black guy who had been working at the Sunoco Station for a couple of

years and was showing Fred the ropes. Fred began showing us his newly found

muscles. He said that in a short time he would be as strong as Tim.

Fred was still lousy at sports. In fact he was so lousy that he had to go out for

track. Worse yet, it was long distance! Nobody ran long distance in those days, only

guys who couldn’t make any real sports teams. We associated long distance track

with boredom and guys who probably liked to talk to themselves.

Fred got into Harvard. I didn’t. Fred knew what he wanted to do. I didn’t. Fred

talked non-stop about the greatness of his new Harvard friends. We didn’t know any

of them, but we disliked them as much as we disliked Fred

Fred and I went on a double date. My date liked Fred better than me.

Fred was discharged from the Navy, where he had served as an officer on a battle

ship. I was doing my worst at trying to stay awake during medic training at Fort

Sam in San Antonio, Texas.

Somehow, someway, we both ended up in NYC. Fred was in Brooklyn. I was in

Manhattan. Fred was married. I wasn’t. I was floundering in and out of

relationships. Sometimes I did the dumping. Sometimes I was dumped.

Fred was delighted that I was single and going out with a lot of women. Most

of them were very pretty which enhanced Fred’s delight. He loved to ask each of  them what such a beautiful girl was doing with me. He thought that was very funny. I didn’t.

Fred had also instructed his wife to make sure that when they went out with

another couple that the woman would be pretty. He told me that everybody talks

about the same things so that at least, if the woman sitting across from him were

pretty, the evening wouldn’t drag.

Fred was working for E.F. Hutton as an investment banker. He was working for

John Shad who would one day be the head of the S.E.C. Fred idolized Shad. All I

heard was Shad this and Shad that. Fred had a way of making you feel that

whomever he was speaking about was far better than you. This always brought

back my old nasty feelings about Fred.

Fred’s wife Sue was madly in love with Fred, ridiculously proud of him. She

would even make the fatal error of coming to Fred’s side when I attacked him. I

had carefully instructed any woman that I brought to Fred and Sue’s house that any

defense of me would be a sign of weakness on my part.

I actually saw her shine Fred’s shoes one morning, after I stayed over. We all

had too much to drink the night before. This was after Sue had given birth to two

girls. Fred had wanted boys. He wanted another chance to relive those

childhood years that he felt his mother had cheated him out of. Fred wanted

to play ball with his son. Fred wanted to hunt with his son. He wanted to teach him

all the things he had learned about hunting and fishing. Most of all, when his son’s

friends came to call, he wanted his son to run out to play.

Things were changing for me. I was involved in an up and down relationship with

a woman named Dana. Most of the downs were her parents. They had interfered

with most of her previous relationships. The reason usually had been religion. In

my case it was personal. It seemed unlikely to me that Dana and I would get much

further than having some wonderful times together that would always be blemished

by her incurable need to please her parents.

Dana and I were dining at out favorite restaurant, her apartment in Jamaica Plain.

Dana looked up at me and asked, “Was I ever going to ask her to marry me?’

 I said “Yes,I’m asking you to marry me.”

 Dana paused, “I don’t know.”

“WHAT!!” I screamed

Dana said, “It’s not going to be easy to tell my parents.”

“Never mind your parents, I’m going to have to tell Fred.” I said.

At the time, I was making a joke.

Dana and I were making wedding plans. Fred was constantly asking me why

I was giving up the splendid life of a NYC bachelor. Fred often repeated his back

handed compliment. “I don’t know how somebody like you could come up with so

many good looking women.” I generally responded with, “Easy.”

I decided it was time for Fred and Sue to meet Dana. We had barely gone

through the introductions, when Sue smiled at Dana and then at me and said,” Her

parents are right. She is way too good for you.” Fred was nodding in agreement.

Dana and I rented an incredible apartment on East Fifty Fourth. Life was good

for us except Robert Kennedy was shot in L.A. while I was painting the apartment in

N.Y.C. Soon after Richard Nixon was elected President, but aside from politics and

assassinations, we were having a love affair with the city. This affair included all the

ups and downs that come with most affairs.

I decided to quit the job I had been at for almost five years . The same week

Fred decided to leave E.F. Hutton and go to work for Shearson, another investment

banking firm. I had agreed to go to work for a company based in N.H. I was

somewhat depressed and very concerned about taking on a new job. Fred was

somewhat anxious as well. Fred decided to rent a sixty five foot sail boat and he

decided that Dana and I would serve as his crew,. None of us had sailed before.

None of us knew anything about manning even a small sailboat, never mind this

behemoth. Fred advised us that he had purchased a book called “How To Keep A Sail

Boat Afloat.” Besides Fred pointed out, we could stop worrying about our new jobs.

Now we should be worrying, if we would come back alive.

Dana and I decided it was time to return to the Boston area. We had a six-

month-old baby named Sarah. We were absolutely sure she had been conceived

on the sixty -five foot sail boat. We also had a white West Highland Terrier named

Honky. Our apartment was too small and the city was too big. It was time to leave.

We cautiously looked for the right town and house to move to. We found

Newburyport or as one veteran Newburyporter told us years later, Newburyport

found us. He claimed none of us came there, he said that we were all sent.

We purchased a house that had been built in the 1600’s.. This

house had everything, everything wrong. However, it was not without it’s charms.

It had original beams in many of the rooms. Many of the rooms had the original

wide floorboards described as King George boards. There were six fireplaces.

One gigantic fireplace was at least five feet tall. We redid the kitchen. We

decided on butcher block for all of our counters. The counters looked great and, of

course, I mentioned this to Fred. This may have prompted Fred to visit us almost

immediately. As soon as Fred and Sue entered the kitchen, Fred told Sue to take out

her measuring tape and measure our butcher block. Fred wanted to make sure that

he had more butcher block in their kitchen than we had.

Fred worried a lot about his Jewishness. He described his mother as

the typical overbearing Jewish mother. Sue’s mother was Jewish, her father was

Catholic. Sue had been brought up Catholic. Sue’s dad did not like Jews much.

Fred’s mother hated Sue. Sue hated Fred’s mother.

Fred was quite anxious to keep me abreast of both his business

accomplishments and his private life. Fred had taken to sending us photos of his

various doings. There was one of Fred on his new chopper. There was another with

Fred in a tree holding a bow and arrow. He was waiting for a deer to stroll by. He

claimed that using a bow and arrow, rather than a rifle, was a fairer game. Sue could

be seen in the photo sitting under the tree. Sue’s job was to help spot any deer, Fred

didn’t see. We especially loved the one with Fred on his huge tractor getting ready

to work his three hundred acre farm. There would usually be a caption under

all the photos that said, “This is not the way most Jewish guys relax.”

Although we had moved to Boston, I still had a lot of customers in

New York City. I traveled to New York every other week and most often met Fred

for dinner. After dinner and a lot of “What do you want to do??”, quite often we ended

up on 42nd street in time to catch a pornographic film. We were watching a western

porno, when Fred grabbed my arm and said the hero is Jewish. I said, “How do you

know?” He said, “I can tell by the way he makes love.” I didn’t bother pursuing his

theory. Maybe he was right and I should have paid better attention.

After dining one evening, Fred told me he had bought tickets to a live

porno show for us. Neither of us had ever been to one of these before. We went. It

was an interesting experience. There was quite a bit of flagellation. There was also

quite a bit of dialogue. The players felt responsible to keep us informed of not only

what they were doing, but what other porno theatres were doing. The Head Master

as he referred to himself, explained to the audience that there was another live show

a few blocks away. He described their theatre as being crude. He said, “Those are the kind of people that give flagellation a bad name.”

Fred called the next day to say he was working with two big name companies putting together a huge deal, but all he could think about was making plans to go to the place that was giving flagellation a bad name. We could not stop laughing.

Fred had begun to call me on a regular basis. A shoe company had come to his investment banking company and had requested start up capital. Fred wanted as much information as I could give him regarding the main man. As it happened, I knew quite a bit about him. I had been very friendly with his brother Leo. Leo had often spoken about his brother Joe and how much he admired him. I had a very high regard for Leo. I trusted his insights and his opinions. Leo frequently said that Joe was the most talented and creative person he knew. I passed this information on to Fred.

Fred’s company Shearson did the deal. Joe made millions. Leo made millions. Joe’s company made millions.  Fred and Shearson made millions. I didn’t make a nickel.

Many years later I ran into Joe in an Italian Trattoria outside of Florence, Italy. I walked over to the bar and introduced myself to Joe Famolare. I said, “I was the guy who recommended you to E.F. Hutton to help you get the start up money.”

Joe snickered, “it wasn’t Hutton,he said, it was Shearson.” I had forgotten that Fred had left E.F. Hutton, when he did the deal with Joe .I was wrong and embarrassed.

Fred left Shearson and joined Drexel Burnham as their C.E.O..Drexel was a young investment banking company that specialized in junk bonds. Fred’s first major move was to hire a highly touted junk bond specialist named Michael Milliken, Fred’s newest hero.

Dana and our kids loved to visit Fred and Sue’s farm. It was over three hundred acres. It was stocked with real animals. Vegetables and fruit were growing everywhere. In fact, it was a serious farm that Fred and Sue toiled together. Fred would be on his tractor turning the soil. All the kids and Dana would be picking blueberries for Sue’s amazing farm made blueberry pie. Fred loved to walk with me after dinner. He loved to tell me how much fun he was having at work. He especially loved to go on about Mike Milliken. According to Fred, Mike was the most brilliant person he had ever met. According to Fred, there was nobody else in the world that could compare to Mike Milliken.

“All Mike wants to do is become the richest man in the universe.” Fred said.

“How rich is he now?” I asked

“About five hundred million. He doesn’t sleep. He works all night. He is working now, even though it’s Sunday. I’m sure he’s plotting a strategy, that he will unfold on me when I get to the shop on Monday.”

This was a new world for Fred. This was the true high life. This was a world even Fred could not have dreamt about, even in his wildest dreams. There were parties. The parties were lavish. There were celebrities seeking information. There were Wall Streeters seeking celebrities. There were lots of pretty girls. Nobody ever, ever brought their wives.

Fred fell in love. Her name was Lee Ann

Fred wanted me to meet Lee Ann. Her home was in the Boston area, which meant that Fred would be travelling to Boston regularly. He often called me and invited me to join them. It was always at one of the fanciest hotels in Boston. The food was invariably great as were the conversations. Fred wanted to share his world with both Lee Ann and me. It was exciting to hear the stories about Ted Turner. Fred described almost verbatim how Ted Turner had roasted him on Fred’s fiftieth birthday. “Ted Turner?” I said, He doesn’t know shit about you! He doesn’t know that of all of us kids growing up, you were the biggest asshole. He doesn’t know that you wouldn’t be here posing as a big shot investment banker, if it weren’t for the weekly poker games at my house. That’s where you learned to cheat! You finally figured out that everybody was cheating. That’s what prepared you for Wall Street, not Harvard.” Turner may have roasted you; I would have fried your ass like fried chicken.

I had to admit it was exciting to hear what Fred had said to Carl Icahn. Better yet, to hear Fred tell us that he told Donald Trump that he didn’t feel comfortable doing business with him. He told us who the bad boys were and who wore the white hats. At least, according to Fred. I told Lee Ann, “Fred wasn’t smart enough to be a real bad guy. I said he was just a sort of a bad guy.”

Drexel quickly became the most talked about company of the era. This was true on Wall Street an on Main Street. These C.E.O.S were making headlines. Fred was on the cover of quite a few weekly magazines. Drexel was growing a reputation for being very aggressive and extremely successful. Perhaps too aggressive, and way too successful

This information did not elude the S.E.C. or the Feds. The Fed’s word for aggressive was arrogant and their objective was to bring Drexel down.

Fred’s oldest daughter was getting married. Her wedding took place at the farm. It was a beautiful day. It was a beautiful setting. The guests not only looked rich, they were rich and a lot of them famous. Fred’s mom & dad were there. His mom remembered me and came over to speak to me .She inquired about my dad ,who had since died and after a few more questions, she looked around at the magnificence and said, “I did this!!”

Michael Milliken went to jail kicking and screaming that it was all Fred’s fault. He wrote a book calling Fred the worst liar in the country. He called Fred a gangster and said he was a member of a vicious gang growing up. The gang Milliken was referring to was our club called the Vikings. Our most vicious acts were playing pinball, reading porno books in the soda fountain store behind the owner’s back and talking about the local females. We also tended to double dribble, when we played basketball. Double dribbling is considered a very serious offense in pro basketball. Oh yeah, and there was that stuff about everybody cheating at poker.

Fred was also being tried. Tried in court and pursued by the FBI. Susie said when the family was out the FBI was cutting down tree branches, so that they would get better tapping reception. Fred called me after his first day in court to tell me that his judge was

beautiful. He said, “I should definitely come to his trial and check out the judge.” “You’ve always needed to be judged, I said, I don’t. Besides I saw her picture somewhere recently and she’s not that hot. Since you turned fifty your taste has gone south!”

During the trial, while at recess the court journalist came over to Fred and introduced herself to him. Fred called the following week to brag, that he now had a mistress named Melanie, who he put up in a fashionable apartment near his Manhattan office. He said, She was wicked smart and best of all not like his wife Sue or his girlfriend Lee Ann, Melanie asked no questions.”

Lee Ann was growing tired of having only part of Fred. She wanted Fred to divorce Susie and marry her. Fred told me he was considering doing this. “Fred, I said, just give me two weeks notice. I don’t want to be in the country when you tell Sue. I don’t want to get hit by the shrapnel when Susie’s bomb goes off.”

I met Fred for dinner. I was hoping I could talk him out of leaving Sue .It wasn’t that I liked Sue, I hadn’t for a while. Sue had grown bitter. She didn’t like the world that  Fred had adopted. She didn’t like Fred’s business . Sue had taken on her dad’s anti Semitism.

she was constantly pointing out the Jewish names, who were getting caught in one white collar crime or another. I  could understand Fred wanting a younger, prettier woman, but Sue had done so much. Five kids all raised successfully mostly by Sue. Sue’s supreme love and total loyalty to Fred had to count. Fred heard me, but he said I’m far richer than you, I’m much smarter than you, I’m way handsomer than you, but you have Dana and I don’t. Was it possible that so much of this was about Dana, including Lee Ann?

“My God, I said, you really are a sick, crazy competitive bastard. I thought we were just having fun. I guess that’s why I have Dana and you don’t. Besides neither one of us has any butcher block anymore.  Get over it. We left the butcher block in Newburyport that you had Susie measure a long time ago.  Nor do I really have Dana. I’m married to her.”

Fred was trying to start a new investment banking company. I had begun to perform my stories at many different venues. One of these venues was the Hebrew Rehab in Roslindale, Mass. I had mentioned to Fred that I was performing at various nursing homes. I asked him if he knew Sheldon Adelson originally from Dorchester. Sheldon had become one of the richest men in the world as owner of the Sands Company and the Venetian Hotel chain. I told Fred, Sheldon had contributed over eighteen million to the Hebrew Rehab .  “Hebrew Rehab, Fred said, that’s where my mother is. I’d really appreciate if you would say hello to her. Maybe I’ll send Sheldon a thank you note for helping take care of my mother. I didn’t think anyone could do that.”

On our next visit to the rehab I found Fred’s mother. She didn’t know me. I said, “Fred and I were and still are friends. “Fred? She said He is my oldest. Fred is seventy-five.” At the time Fred was sixty-three. I called Fred the next day and blasted him out for lying to me about his age, the day we were first met. I was nine and he had said he was nine as well. I said no wonder you did so well in school, you were twelve years older than the rest of us.

Fred was a busy boy.  He was contemplating how to tell Sue and where to tell Sue that he wanted a divorce. How close to the door should he stand, without causing too much suspicion? At the same time, he was battling the attorney general’s office, maintaining his innocence and validating his stupidity. His defense was based on his not knowing what Millikin and his subordinates were doing behind his back. This seemed to qualify for gross stupidity. At the same time he was still seeing his girlfriend and his mistress. Fred never said goodbye on the phone any longer; he would sign off by saying to me “Stay out of trouble!”

Finally, Fred called and said he would tell Sue at the farm. I said, “You had better wear the helmet from your motorcycle days and maybe a bullet proof vest if Susie finds your bow and arrows.” I thanked him for letting me know and said that even though I had just returned from China, I would leave for China tomorrow.

Fred did tell Sue he was leaving her. Sue did not take it well. I actually didn’t leave for China ,but stayed home in Lexington.. Fred delivered his message to Sue in their New Jersey home. Although, it is about two hundred and thirty miles from our home to theirs, I was sure I could hear Sue’s cries.  I felt horrible for Sue and their five kids. Why couldn’t Fred maintain the status quo? He had everything he ever wanted, I thought. Enough sex between the three women that should have satisfied even Fred.

Fred married Lee Ann and shortly thereafter was diagnosed with myeloma. Fred being Fred learned as much as any doctor knew about the disease and because Fred had a lot of money, he traveled to any and every hospital or clinic for hope. The generous doctors graciously gave Fred two years. Fred got over five.

The week before he died Dana and I joined Fred and Lee Ann for dinner at Bertoucci’s in Andover, Mass. Fred called me from the Dana Farber to inform me that he had relapsed and that it was my fault. “Why I said, You can’t blame me just because you have a namby pamby body,inside and out.” “I am blaming you, I’m blaming you for everything that went wrong. I just watched one of your DVD’s and all I could think of is that Lee Ann said you are handsome. I’m glad that I’m feeling well enough to tell you that I don’t agree with Lee Ann. I know handsome when I see it. I’m handsome and you’re not!!”

Fred died that day. There were two funerals, one in New Jersey and one in Andover. Lee Ann invited Dana and myself to the funeral in Andover. I called and emailed Lee Anne that Dana and I would always be there for her.

Lee Ann did not return my call.