Episode 1
The Murder of Felix Brinkmann
Mr. Laff’s, a neighbor to our establishment was the favorite watering hole for the city’s professional athletes. The bar, opened in 1965 by Yankees’ utility infielder Phil Linz, attracted baseball teammates, as well as Knicks and Rangers players. The crowds waiting to enter were large and police cordoned off the sidewalks to control overflow crowds waiting to enter. Joe Namath, the Jets star QB, frequented Mr. Laff’s and Maxwell’s Plum, another bar, but rarely came to our bar. Surely, it was not trendy enough for “Broadway Joe.”
Episode 2
The Frontrunner
While browsing a bookshop for a volume on human anatomy, a striking poster caught my eye. It featured a “Frontrunner,” a cowboy, sprinting for his life across the Old West, pursued by an entire tribe of Native Americans—seeking payback for insulting their chief. Though the timing remained uncertain, I couldn’t help but imagine this well-trained, charismatic surgeon as a kind of frontrunner himself—boldly heading into an uncertain clinical landscape. The poster seemed fitting, so I bought it as a gift, a playful symbol of what he might face upon arrival.
Episode 2
The Carnival in Rio de Janeiro
We were tasked to evaluate the possibility of manufacturing the bovine pericardial valve in Sao Paulo and investigate the market size for tissue valves in South America. We were aware that a private local group produced these models of tissue valves, but did not consider a joint venture feasible. This surprise bonus for my sales efforts in the Northeast energized my focus on the goal of a foreign posting. And, with matchless timing, after the market evaluation ended, the Carnival began in enchanting Rio de Janeiro. It did not disappoint. Observing the shady mannerisms of my travel companion during business exchanges, the idea of working under his cagey direction had little appeal.
Episode 2
My First LA Trip
I had previously traversed the country by car with George Lane, a notable author, and Rutgers fraternity brother. After graduation on 6-6-66, our journey started in my newly purchased MGB. I did all the driving from Camden to Los Angeles and back in 10 days. George, unschooled on a “Stick Shift” transmission, had little faith in his “clutch and shift” skills. My frat brother, a great traveling companion, kept me awake and focused on the road. He also controlled the Maps - GPS was a LONG way off. In a vivid, direct way, I grasped the vastness of the country and the utility and significance of the Federal Interstate Highway System constructed post-World War II under the Presidency of Dwight Eisenhower.