Sunday, October 29, 2017

Harvey Is a Funny Name

Fifteen years ago this past May, I was in the same room with Harvey Weinstein. Nothing untoward happened—at least not to me. Weinstein was presiding over BookExpo America’s festive opening night at the Jacob K. Javits Center in Manhattan’s Hell’s Kitchen, which—take my word for it—isn’t your grandfather’s Hell’s Kitchen anymore. His Miramax publishing imprint had recently landed a really, really big fish, Rudy Giuliani, who was under contract to write a book called Leadership. Still sporting his well-earned 9/11 halo, Rudy was something of a rock star at the time.

In late May 2002, Giuliani had been out of office for nearly five months. He was, though, still looked upon as “America’s Mayor,” an elected official who somehow transcended petty partisan politics. It was a distinctive but very fleeting snapshot in time that sadly didn’t have legs. That night at the Javits Center, incredible good will reigned supreme along with the heavy security presence of the post-9/11 world we now lived in. Weinstein heaped praise on Rudy for bringing people together in the most horrific of circumstances. The rotund Hollywood mogul also made clear that he was a liberal Democrat in good standing—but one who nonetheless revered Rudy Giuliani for his leadership in the wake of the 9/11 attacks.

Ah, but that was then and this is now. What I remember most about then was how exciting the BookExpo was. I had received a complimentary “Exhibitor Author” pass from my very first publisher—Adam’s Media—to attend the extravaganza, which included the aforementioned opening night followed by four full days of fun, frolic, and freebies. My friend—a fellow Adams Media author—and I attended all four days of the affair, including commingling with the big shots at Weinstein’s shindig. After Rudy Giuliani’s inspirational address to the assembled that evening, free-flowing wine, beer, and hors d’oeuvres was ours for the taking. Long lines quickly materialized around the fare, however, and I wasn’t one to fight tooth and nail to get at it, even if it was on the house.

In those days of yore, publishers were a whole lot more generous than they are today. My free pass—as the author of The Everything Collectibles Book—meant I could attend the publisher’s booth party on day three of the BookExpo. Free wine, beer, and munchies—again—but this time I didn’t have to cross swords for a swallow. But all good things come with a price attached to them. In the party’s aftermath—on my subway trip back home—I found myself contemplating things I’d never contemplated before, like relieving myself between cars or actually getting off and using a station’s facilities. Most New York City subway stations, by the way, have no public restrooms, or they are locked up for good reason. So, the facilities I had in mind meant taking a page out of—as the British might say—the “rough sleepers” handbook.

The happy ending is that I made it home without resorting to a nuclear option. No such happy endings for the other protagonists in this tale of mine: Harvey and Rudy. In fact, the latter did everything he could do to destroy his non-partisan sheen during a subsequent run for the Republican presidential nomination and—more recently—in his bug-eyed, foaming-at-the-mouth shilling for Donald Trump, the Ernest T. Bass man-child elected president. I sincerely wish Rudy would have gone out on a 9/11 high note, but super-ambitious politicians like him never can rest on their laurels.

As for Harvey Weinstein, it’s impossible for me to understand his kind of mindset. How could he act like he did for so long and get away with it? Enablers! It would appear they come in all stripes and all political ideologies. Weinstein had his sanctimonious left-wing Hollywood elite overlooking his beastly behaviors, just as conservative Bill O’Reilly, who was always looking out “for the folks,” had his right-wing family values crowd giving him a pass. It is said that character is destiny. Hopefully, these pathetic excuses for men—and their ilk—have not lived in vain and there will be fewer of them to contend with in the future.

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)

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