Due to all the other stuff going on I did not post this on the date listed.
That, and I was waiting for the 2nd mag to arrive at my doorstep.
My brother, Rob, had warned me of it’s arrival.
…
Day 370 I achieve the famed “Double Double”
Tuesday, January 25, 2022
As many of you know I’m a shy quiet guy. I don’t like to brag or toot my own horn. I let my actions speak for themself. Take for instance this fact: within the last 12 months I have been mentioned, with photographs, in two different alumni magazines! The famed Double-Double!
Even more interestingly, I attended both of these schools! I have not achieved the renown of the fellow who kept sending alumni notes to Harvard (or was it Yale?) who told of his fabulous exploits and signed off with “if you are ever down in Georgetown(Bahamas) do look up Missy (or was it Muffy?) and me aboard our yacht.” It turned out that he never went to the school in question and henceforth the alumni magazine said they weren’t going to publish his exploits anymore. There was such a hue and cry (i.e. “Are the you kidding? It’s the only reason we read that mag!”) that they relented.
Now, to be fair the alumni mags did not publish everything I sent them. I managed to get my buddy Peter Newman’s backyard to be described as bodacious. But that pales in comparison to what I wrote.
And my buddies from Harvey School, Bill and Theo, sang Happy Birthday to fellow Harveyite Peter Duncan (“Dunc”). He pleaded with us to never do that again. Poor bastard. I got that in.
As I have read with growing ennui the fabulous exploits of fellow alum, I have felt a certain je ne sais quoi. A sense of unworthiness ala Wayne’s World like, I mean one alum invented the first artificial heart. All I can say to that is, “Oh Yeah? Well fellow classmate Cy Wilcox invented the Medtronic stint. Yeah, go king ’69. Suck it Jarvic. King ’63 or thereabouts.”
Me? What have I done? Eh…See, there in lies the problem. I have felt so unworthy. I mean. Every time I open the alumni mag there is someone inventing something great or getting famous or making tons of money. Me? Not so much.
But now? Now I can hold my head up high. Okay I haven’t hosted Saturday Night Live (yet), but I went to a school where some of those actors’ kids now go.
I walked the same hallow ground where Carly Simon once spent her summers. I still have shot of being on the cover of Rolling Stone. I mean the magazine hasn’t folded so there’s a chance. Am I right?
Yeah.
I’m somebody.
Yes, the double double. It’s rare. In fact, I don’t know of anyone who has achieved that distinction.
Many of you know my brother, Rob. Renowned for getting more “Marks” in a single day at Harvey and then not running them off so they doubled. Such fame. (“Rob, Why didn’t you run them off?” Answer, “George didn’t have any so there was no point.” Such bravery and guts.) Note: “Marks” were punishments you got for misbehaving at Harvey. Each mark required you to run one lap on a circle. (example: 10 marks for spitballs – very bad.)
But later in life Rob looked a lot like David Letterman. In fact, he had been mistaken to be him. Well, we were at Harvey at a reunion. There was nothing going on except a dedication of a tennis court (dedicated in the name of Cort, of course.) After the dedication this little fellow comes up to me and says, “Hi, I’m Paul Shaffer.” To which, I responded, “You are? You look familiar.” (Talk about playing it cool.) “Well, I’ve been on TV a lot.” “Oh yeah? You should meet my brother. People say he looks like David Letterman.”
That’s how I got this picture.
But the best part of that story is that David Letterman did show up the next day to watch one of Paul’s kids play football. (Dave’s kids went to Harvey too.) When word filtered up to the Admin Building that Dave Letterman was on the football field someone piped up and said, “No it’s not. It’s that imposter from Ridgefield!” And that’s why Dave you didn’t get swarmed that day with people wanting your autograph. You’re welcome.
Where was I? Oh yes, fond memories and exploits. In study hall one year I had a desk next to Sandy Close. He was very strong and very quiet. Kids would ask him where he lived, “In a house.” That’s the only conversation I remember hearing him have after a year! Later in life my brother sent me a picture from People magazine. In it was an actress whose photo of her face was taken straight on, black and white, with her hands holding back her hair off her forehead. “Looks exactly like Sandy!” Rob wrote. It was his sister Glenn, Glenn Close. Ah me.
But most of all I want to thank my fellow alum from all years, you lazy bastards. If you had sent in anything, anything at all, I possibly would not have made it into those rags, and for that I am ever grateful.
Carry on. I’ll be around and about.