It was back in 1970 when I met Don Brown. I had just moved to Florida and had got a job as an Art Director in a small advertising agency. Many media people from radio and TV stations would drop by looking for media buys. Don had moved from New York and was selling for a local TV station. He walked by my office stuck his head in the door and said “How the “F” are Yah?”. I was a little taken back by his profanity since he did not know me nor I him. “You play golf?” he asked. No! I never had the chance to learn I replied.
What you doing Saturday morning? he asked. Nothing I replied. Well how about we play. I’ll show you how. Well I don’t have any clubs. I replied. No F.. problem I’ll loan you a set of Square 2’s. I have a trade out with a golf course so it will not cost you anything OK? How about I pick you up at 7:30am ?
I guess. That was the start of our friendship. Over the next few months we played every Sat morning with a few of his other friends and I found out he had grown up in Times Square and hung out at a pool hall with a bunch of NJ wise guys. He became a pool hustler and made a decent living playing pool after leaving school. This education gave him all the tools he needed to become a star salesman. He could hustle with the best. Now strange as it might seem Don and I were completely opposite.
He from Queens with a New York attitude that meant every other word was the F word and me an Englishman brought up in a puritanical atmosphere where the worst swear words I had ever heard were Hell and Dam. I was fascinated by his chutzpa and how he hustled business deals . I one time asked him why we were such good friends. He said I was the only honest man he had ever met and I had never tried to hustle him. I took that as a compliment.
Over the next few years he worked his way up to Sales Manager at the TV station and became well known for his brash attitude and foul language . Soon everyone at the station was using the F word imitating Don was a game they all played using the salute of How the F-are you to start a conversation and well F-you to end a conversation. The General Manager at the TV station finally put out an order that no one was to use the F word while at work. Don not a bit miffed by this started to say Happy Birthday in place of F-You.
Everyone at the station would slam each other by saying Happy Birthday in front of other workers and salesmen. It became an insider joke that carried outside the station. If Don saw someone from the station in a restaurant he was eating at he would order a Birthday Cake sent to his table. The poor man would insist it was not his Birthday and ask who ordered the cake. The server would then point out Don who would stand and yell out Happy Birthday. It became a game as to who could find a situation where they could wish someone a Happy Birthday in public in front of other people.
The people at the station moved around getting jobs at bigger out of town TV and Radio stations all over the country and told the Happy Birthday story to their new friends. It grew so fast that one night I was watching Johnny Carson on Late night and after the monolog, out came Ed McMann and Johnny wished him a Happy Birthday . Ed looked surprised and said this is not my birthday! Johnny then laughed and said I know. He had again beaten the censors at NBC by simply saying Happy Birthday.
Don’s reputation of being a media salesman led him to start a Media buying agency after he retired from the TV Station. A business that made him quite famous for the deals he arranged.
He has a heart of gold and helped me and many others with his wisdom and generosity over the years. I have memories and stories of trips we took together to the Bahamas playing golf and visiting Casinos. He always explained that you had to know the odds to make money in any deal and gave me many lessons. They always involved a story of how he hustled someone in a style that was pure Don Brown. On his 70th surprise birthday. His wife asked me to speak about Don and I opened the speech with
“Well how the F are you” using Don’s New York accent. Everyone laughed and we had a great time roasting my best friend Don Brown. Don is several years older than me and has had a few medical problems along the way. But he still plays 9 holes of golf every morning at the local club and in the bathroom there is a wall full of plaques with his name on them for winning the club championship each year. You can’t play golf with Don without betting he is well known for hustling everyone on the golf course which makes for endless stories.
One time I invited a trick shot golf artist to our game as a ringer to play with Don. The bets flew fast and furious and by the 17th hole he got wise to what I had done. He bet the trick shot artist that he could put his 165 yard shot on the green one handed on the shaft of the club. They both took the one handed 7 iron shot and Don’s ball came to rest 10” from the cup. He in the end won the bet and the game. So much for hustling the hustler. Don each morning had been practicing that very shot for the past two years.
We are still best friends and see each other or have lunch together almost every weekday. On the weekends we go to the Dog Track. I have always known that having Don Brown as your best friend was a gamble, but this was one bet that paid off. I have the greatest friend any man could ever have.
__END__