Saturday, July 23, 2016

True Story from Long Island



I received an interesting response to my "softball" post" from a friend who lives in NYC, also has a place on Water Island (part of  or near Long Island). His name is Tom Anthony. He was one of the country's top music writers/producers back in the day, still writes music and lyrics today. In this case, back in my advertising days, I hired him to write a new music theme for Budweiser. He came through with a remarkable piece of music that carried Bud for several years. The line was "You make America Work, and this Bud's for you." He also used to play a mean trumpet; probably doesn't have the lip today but still has the soul. 

Here are his comments about his career in softball. Read it and weep.

"To begin, I was probably the worst ballplayer around back in the day. But I remember one game of softball.  It was on the beach in a place called Bayberry Dunes, about three miles away from Water Island. There was an ad biz copywriter on the other team named Ron Salzberg, who was more than amazing, given that he was left-handed and played second base.  That's hard enough on any field, but in the sand? Anyway, I hit a lucky pitch into the ocean, and he chased it and tried to throw me out while standing up to his backside in the water.  He never forgot it and swore to get even.

A couple of years later, he called me in to do the music for the Doublemint Gum "Single Most Favorite Double" campaign.  He introduced me to everyone in the place as "Homer."  I didn't argue.  But I didn’t complain either.  We won two Clios.


If I tried to run those bases now, I'd still be halfway to first, but probably on my face in the sand."

Here are some pics from the vault, of Tom from a visit Mary Lee and I had with him many years ago, when we were both still "in the biz." That beautiful woman with him is his wife Stephanie, artist and singer. Remind me sometime to tell you about the remarkable lobster dinner we had at his place on Water Island. 



1 comment:

  1. It's amazing how many memories come flooding out, with just a photograph or a post.

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