February 7, 2013
By Mickey Friedman
When last we spoke I was selling old CDs, used books, and desperately organizing a bake sale to raise the five hundred bucks to buy the second half of the still Not For Public Consumption PR Proposal For Great Barrington’s Downtown Revitalization.
But while I was debating whether to go with oatmeal raisin or chocolate-chocolate chip, I got smacked by the great cold and/or flu of 2013. No cookies. No money. No clandestine meeting with my secret source by the bandstand.
Instead I slipped into a week’s worth of sneezing, coughing, sore throat, chills and more coughing.
It was hard to tell night from day, daydreams from nightmares. There was road construction everywhere. It seemed like it took me ten minutes to get from my bedroom to the bathroom. I had to show the road crew supervisor my driver’s license and Great Barrington Census Form. He kept asking me why I didn’t have pets and in my not-quite-sure-where-I-was state I almost convinced myself I had an invisible cat.
I’m pretty sure the phone rang a few times. Is it possible I spoke with Barry Stevens of Great Barrington’s Ad Hoc Committee For Crack-Free Sidewalks and Spiffy New Streets? Do I even know Barry Stevens? Barry said something about taking over as communications coordinator for Crack-Free Sidewalks while Carla Douglas was off studying innovative parking plans and the Australian Open in Melbourne. Anyway, it was, Barry suggested, a perfect time for a new beginning for us all. Critics and supporters all working together for a snazzier, bestier Barrington. New streets, new sidewalks, new signals, and a brand new attitude. All Barry wanted to know was who had slipped me the copy of the Smidley, Crump and Crump Proposal. I started to cough and couldn’t stop and Barry eventually hung up.
Could I have hallucinated a call from Ms. Abigail Starkfield-Crump herself? The architect of Lennoxx’s Award-Winning public relations and communications plan: “Lennoxx: We’re More Than We Were; We’re More Than You Expect; And We’re More Than You Imagine.”
Even with my dreadful head cold I could tell Abigail Starkfield-Crump wasn’t particularly happy with me. “Mr. Friedman, I wasn’t particularly happy reading excerpts from my confidential memo in The Berkshire Record. You may not be aware of it, but public relations is a very delicate art. Our job, my job, is find new and creative ways to shape and explain what’s happening and to help people see the best in what might prove to be a difficult situation. And, of course, you say one thing to your clients and quite another thing to the general public. So yes I told the business leaders of Great Barrington that it’s never easy turning what will be dreadful into something special. But I was exaggerating.”
I don’t think I said a word. What I really wanted was one of those fruit lozenges with Vitamin C and Echinacea because my throat was killing me but because the drop had melted a bit, it was particularly hard getting the paper wrapper off.
I think Abigail was getting even more annoyed at me. “Mr. Friedman, is that your cat making all that noise in the background?” At which point I started to sneeze and couldn’t stop. Eventually Abigail hung up.
Somewhere during day five or six the sound of the jackhammers merged with the sound of the chainsaws. Now being sick is never any fun and I hope you all manage to avoid this year’s version of the great cold and/or flu of 2013. But it’s particularly tricky when you’re alone. In my experience it always helps to have someone to talk to, to check with, to replenish the tissues or make the chamomile tea.
This time around it was only me. If you were there, I could have asked you about the cat. Maybe you would have been kind enough to answer the phone. To take messages. Especially the one about the coal chutes.
I’m not sure whether it was a man or a woman. “Mickey, is that you? You sound like a stuffed cat. I came like I said I would. I was hiding behind a tree. There were three members from the Ad Hoc Committee and several selectmen trying to find me. I brought the second half of the Crump Proposal. I could certainly use that five hundred bucks but you were smart not to come.
“Everybody’s incredibly nervous and on edge. Turns out even though we spent $800,000 of town money planning this whole thing, someone forgot about the coal chutes. From the old days when coal companies would deliver coal to heat these buildings. Seems like some of those chutes aren’t on the master plan. Another postponement. It would be like digging in the dark. Smidley wants another 50 grand.”
I started to cough and he or she hung up.