Burt’s life

I did not prepare an obituary for Burt. Not even for the May 3rd memorial celebration of life.

Who he was is laid out in the pages of this blog, even though you’re meeting him during his journey in illness.

I have sprinkled memories from the before among my posts. Some of you knew him when, but let me introduce you to Burt.

In memorium.

Burt was a Brooklyn boy who spent his early years with Paul, whom he met in shop in grade school. When a teacher sent home a note that Burt and Paul were fighting in class, his mom said “Oh no, they’re best friends.”

There were others in their circle and I think they created a “gang” called The Falcons. In highschool, Burt made friends with a guy who was popular because he photographed the football team. I think this was the burgeoning of the celebrity follower in Burt.

The family spent summers in the Catskills, in those days called the mountains.

Actually, before that, Burt and his mom, spent Christmas in  Atlantic City.

His dad came over to enjoy the special New Year’s breakfast. Burt liked playing the arcade games there.

In the summer, his dad,  would come up on weekends. Burt loved playing catch with him.

His mom came from a family of six and the three sisters were close. She and Burt shared the bungaloo with a sister and her family. There were aunts and cousins around.

Burt worked in the summers, as he did afterschool. He was a soda jerk and once served Henny Youngman a plate of scrambled eggs.

One year, after his boss failed to pay him as promised, he took off for home. His cousin’s best friend introduced him to her sister, on the grounds he was too young for her. That’s how he met his first wife; their marriage lasted 24 years and resulted in a family of four. The children were perfectly spaced, boy/girl/boy/girl.

Burt happened upon his beloved career in the stock market by accident, at the recommendation of a friend. The notable facts about this friend was that he was also in a band, and that he dressed like the bandleader for his job as a Wall Street “runner.”

Burt took the “ask and learn everything” approach to his new job.

He changed positions and moved from company to company, always securing a better place. He always spoke of how much he appreciated the mentors he met along the way. There were many who took him under their wing, charmed by his curiousity. He was eager to find out how things worked.

He rose from messenger to clerk to options specialist.

He worked in all aspects of the industry, even having a stint on the Exchange floor. He loved it all.

When we met, 35 years ago on May 3rd, Burt was working for Josephthal, an old line firm since defunct.

I have little understanding for how options are traded, despite lots of schooling from him.

I had answered a personal ad from the New York Press and Burt called me on May 1st; technically, you might say that phone call was when we met.

Our first date was at a bar called Tramps, on 21st Street across from my office. My work history is much more ecletic than Burt’s, but ultimately, we wound up working together. Our little mom and pop was a front office for volunteer driven organizations; we provided customer service to members.

The ad I answered misstated his age, but pretty acurately listed his interests. They aligned with mine, as far as theater and walks in the city went.

Burt had started his theater-going at the behest of his revered first therapist.

The first show he attended was The Music Man with Robert Preston. Until he bought us a ticket for Love Letters, he had mostly only gone to musicals or one man shows like Jackie Mason. Our theater going would prove to be wide-ranging.  Burt came to love the ballet as much as I did. During his illness, he expressed a wish to go see a performance; I think I was wise in not fulfilling that wish, but I also regret the decision.

In mentioning Jackie Mason, I thought of Ed Sullivan and was reminded that Burt and Paul would often try to get into his Sunday show. Jackie Mason was, incidentally, one of the celebrity sightings Burt enjoyed over the years. Paul Schaeffer, another connect-the-dots to The Ed Sullivan Theater, was another with whom he’d chat.

[I have recounted the lengths to which Burt went to meet up with entertainers he admired in other posts.] I loved it when he had a long conversation with Sutton Foster during an intermission; she was audience not performer. When Marisa Tomei starred in Marie and Bruce off Broadway, our front row seat meant that she and he were knee to knee at one point; she waved, one of those cute finger waves, at him as she left the stage.

Burt had his eccentricities, his issues, and quirks. Some he carried through his dementia. There were challenges for both of us, especially in those last years. Through it all, he was funny, caring, interested and interesting.

It’s unclear what I expected to happen once he was gone. I miss him more than I ever thought possible.

I had a great time, Burt. Thank you, wish you were here, but I understand.  hugs and kisses, Tamara

I knew how much I loved him. I didn’t know how much I’d miss him.