(Originally
published 10/29/17)
Fifteen
years ago, this past May, I was in the same room with Harvey Weinstein. Nothing
untoward happened at the time—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—is not your grandfather’s
Hell’s Kitchen anymore. You see, his Miramax publishing imprint had 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 basking in adulation.
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 did not have legs. That night at the Javits Center,
though, good will runneth over along with the heavy security presence of the
post-9/11 world we now called home. Weinstein heaped praise on Rudy for
bringing people together in the most horrific of circumstances. The rotund
Hollywood mogul also made it 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 opening salvo 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 was not 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 did not 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 had never contemplated before, like relieving myself between cars or getting
off and using a station’s facilities. Sadly, most New York City subway stations
have no public restrooms, or they are off limits for good reasons. So, the
facilities I had in mind meant taking a page out of—as the English 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 2008 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 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 is impossible for me to understand his 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. Character is destiny, is
it not?
(Photos
from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)
