Got a Call From An Old Friend, We Used to Be...

The title's from a Billy Joel song, which is appropriate, since he's a Long Island guy, and this is a Long Island tale.

An old friend from LI was passing through Miami, and called me at the office yesterday. We ended up talking for quite awhile, and he regaled me with examples of his great wealth and success. Apparently he's a major NY investment bank's "top point guy" in Latin America, which I immediately found hilarious, since I clearly recall his spewings while growing up about the "freakin' spics" his father, an Irish NYC fireman, had to deal with in Spanish Harlem.

Anyway, he was the first in his family to go through college, and he worked his way up at the bank to this self professed summit of success. He told me of his various houses in Europe, and Rio, and the Carribbean, and his meetings with ministers of finance from around the hemisphere. He was like the unnamed man in Carly Simon's "You're So Vain:" if something BIG was going on in the world --it appeared that my old friend was going to be there.

He barely asked about my life in the nearly 30 years since I'd left LI, which was fine with me, since I had nothing to offer to compare with his experiences of great wealth and international finance.

After I hung up the phone I called Mark, a friend I've kept in touch with on LI, and someone I knew had kept up with the globetrotter. I told Mark about his call, and told him I was shocked to learn about the fellow's station in life. Mark's reply:

"Nah. He's a $150k/year guy at Citi Bank. They send him to do the scut work in South America the really big guys won't do --kissing the asses of the deputy undersecretaries of animal husbandry, or whatever --so they repay the bank's loans."

Well --what about the houses throughout the world? "He owns a nice ranch in Huntington --paid about $250k for it, and it's now worth about $800k, but that's it. He DOES travel to places, but doesn't really own anything else."

I asked Mark why he tells all the tall tales. "You know, Dave, I have NO idea. I mean --the guy's done great. Being a Wall Street banker -type, with a degree from a SUNY college, is pretty good. He makes good money, has a nice wife, healthy kids, and house. I guess that's not enough --he wants the world to think he's George Hamilton, or Ricardo freakin' Montalban."

So, another character entered and left the stage of life, at 46 apparently still not comfortable in his own skin. He was always a decent sort, and I wish him all the great wealth and success he feels he must have to impress. Maybe I'll get an invite to his Villa in Rio at Carnival time. Not really. I wish for him the wisdom to see that, with friends and family, he was already a lucky and wealthy man.