Do You Want To Know This Man?
Why go on this anthropological dig?
Before deciding to follow or subscribe to Do You Know This Man?: An Irreverent Memoir you might ask, “why should I go on this anthropological dig?” A solid question.
A little background. In his early 20’s, he wrote humor. Today no one finds him funny. More to come on that. Back then, the New York Times, the Boston Globe, and the San Francisco Chronicle evidently did. They published him. When he is pathetically desperate to impress, he says he was published six times in the Times before he was 25.
His goal was a boatload of acceptances which would lead to a full time position as a columnist. He thought he came close the day he cold-called the Boston Globe sports department.
He met with Vince Doria, their assistant sports editor. After perusing his Times clips, Doria introduced him to Dave Smith, the Globe sports editor. Doria said to Smith, “Meet Todd Logan. He’s a cut above the rest.” He was sure a column was in the offing.
Didn’t happen. Rejections outpaced acceptances 15 to 1. His mental health succumbed to the wear and tear. Loss of confidence, loneliness and anger engulfed. Loss of pespective tormented. He often brooded before mirrors dumbfounded he wasn’t voted high school prom king. Was he even up for consideration? You’ve seen the tennis team photo.
He pulled the writing plug after frittering away an afternoon posing as the once great controversial American novelist and pugilistic public figure Norman Mailer who, if remembered at all, is not for his literary oeuvre. Rather his mysogyny, obnoxiousness and overall repulsiveness.
Back in the day, Mailer was a big deal - certainly to the Boston Magazine editor who wouldn’t take his calls for six months regarding an article he had submitted. When he said he was Mailer, she picked up pronto with an excited, “Hello, Norman,” and for 20 minutes lapped up his nonsensical stream of consciousness.
Absolutely a big deal to Tom Winship, editor of the once esteemed Boston Globe. Saying he was Mailer, Winship’s secretary didn’t ask, “Does he know you?” “Is he expecting your call?” “May I ask what this is regarding?” For Mailer, the gates swung wide open.
Winship was no slouch. In those days, the Globe was reputedly nipping at the heels of the Times as being the paper of record. Mind you, all the reputing was coming out of Boston. After living in Boston for 18 years, he concluded reputing to have the best of everything was the regional pastime. Best schools. Best hospitals. Best ice cream. Best book stores. Best public TV and radio stations. Best marathon. And, yes, best writers.
He noted they were tight-lipped about the weather and Michael Dukakis.
Winship gave good phone. His Mailer gave better.
He quit freelance writing the next day.
That was 44 years ago.
Here’s what he did yesterday: He drove to the post office. Mailed a letter. Got back in his car. Sat in the passenger seat. Waited to be driven home.
Next week: The Poo in the Flashlight story
Do You Know This Man?: An Irreverent Memoir is an ongoing exploration of the one character who eludes, confounds and mystifies. Me. Right now, it’s available for free, including being able to listen to some of my plays and dive into the best of Sportscape Magazine.
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