Memoirs of a Phoenix Octogenarian

Chapter I

Medical History of the Phoenix Octogenarian

From 1996- 2012

Membership in Medicare HMOs

My first Medicare HMO  (1996) was Cigna.

Cigna had a catalog of its doctor's showing their faces (a la Face Book), background, and interests.

My attention was drawn to Dr. Lupa who was from Poland, studied and practiced medicine in Canada, and now was one of Cigna's star primary physicians. I was impressed with her affection for chamber music and interest in dermatology. 

To show my gratitude for the care she gave me, I presented her with a CD of the Canadian film, "The Red Violin." 

In my haste, however, to give my present, I forgot that I had removed the CD from its jacket (to make a copy of it for myself)! Fortunately, the next day I immediately rectified the awful mistake.

She graciously accepted my apologies for this gift-giving malpractice.

She, in turn, removed a real nasty basal cancer from my left leg that was sitting on top of my tibia. All the derms and docs who looked at her work afterwards always complemented her excision of the basal tumor. 


A Cigna surgeon, Dr. Butler, said its position on top of the bone made it difficult to extend removal of its margins without leaving a hole in the leg. Such had been the case of another patient of his. He advised me to douche the area with hydrogen peroxide until it was fully healed.

Dr. Lupa was so good, a son of one of her cancer patients, a captain in the US Navy, married her. The marriage ceremony was held aboard his ship. Shortly after her marriage she was transferred to the Scottsdale Branch of the Cigna network in Arizona.

I live on thirteen street near McDowell Road and my Cigna is located on McDowell and tenth street, Phoenix.

If  ever you are in the 85006 Phoenix area, drop in for some of Vita's excellent coffee

Or, you can send your medical history to jordanp.richman@gmail. I will gladly publish it alongside of mine in this Google blog. Or, if you feel I have been unjust in reviewing the work of the doctors mentioned in this section, I will be glad to present your experiences. 


To be continued...

I

At Battery Park, Shanghaiing drunks was still going on when I was 11 years  in 1904. 

The First mate of a schooner was anxious to Shanghai me when he saw me, a husky boy, sleeping one night in the park.

He gets me up, takes me to a saloon and fills me with whiskey and then brings me to his ship. He says to the Captain of the ship, "I have one for you. He is young and strong."

II

The Captain looks at me, grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a shake, and then asks me how old I am. I look up at the Captain and tells him I am 11 years old now.

The Captain turns to the mate and says, "Are you crazy? I do not want to Shanghai children. Get him off the ship!"

Putting Abe Richman's Memoirs Together

The Final Draft

I

I was sitting on the fire escape at the time I was four years old watching the steam engine trains on the elevators run by. The Street was Allen Street on the Lower East Side of New York City.

It was 1895, the middle of the Gay Nineties and New York was as raw as a raw steak.

The Bowery was four blocks from Allen Street and at that time it was the hottest street in New York. When I was 5 years old I walked to the Bowery and sat at the curb watching the Cable Cars go by.

II

Later on, we moved to Stanton Street at the corner of Meagan Street two blocks from the River. It was the time of the Spanish American war. Admiral Dewey was the hero of the day.

Later on, when I was much older I decided to swim in the River. I was a wild kid, so one day I saw the bigger boys swimming in the River. In those days no one wore or knew about bathing suits. Everyone was in the nude swimming.

For some reason I thought I knew how to swim, so I jumped in the River.

III

When I went down I wondered when I would come up. Finally, when I did come up I waved my hands frantically. The Big Boys could see I was drowning, so they jumped in and grabbed me by the hair and saved me.

For two days I was sick from the water I consumed.

As I grew older I started to peddle newspapers at the Brooklyn Bridge. At that time they were two papers for a Penny and I sold them for a Penny each. Selling newspapers at the Brooklyn Bridge lead me to Chinatown where I saw the opium dens.

IV

There were no laws against drugs at that time. Young girls were lying in the bunks and smoking opium pipes. I became a CHARACTER following that kind of life.

When I was 12 years old, a man took me to the London Theater Burlesque show for .10. It was raw!

V

New York was then full of brothels with young girls from 13 to 18 working them, while the older women walked the Bowery. Prices for girls and women ranged from .50 to $1.00. 

While it was hard for women to find work there was lots of work for men, such as dock work, trucks, and building railroads.

VI

In 1904 when I was 12 years old, I left school, never to return to any other school at any other time in my long life. The only school I thereafter ever attended was TSOHK, The School of Hard Knocks! But I was fortunate that in those days there were no truancy laws that either I nor my father knew about, so my father used my 12 year old muscle power to subsidize his budding painting business to help pay for my younger brother's, (Hymie) cello lessons, while I went to work as a painter in my father's business. It was slack season in the winter, so I applied for a Messenger Boy  job at the Western Union located at 195 Broadway. 

Turner, the hiring man, said I will give you the job if you will first take the paint off your hands. So I became a messenger boy,

Finally, I began shipping out of town to railroads.

I worked for the Union Pacific Railroad putting down steel rails.

The wages were a $1.75 a day for 10 hours a day. 

We worked in open wild country.

We camped on the jobs.

VII

I shipped out to Guild, Tennessee to work on a dam. We were put on trains and we rode South.


To be continued...

I

I WAS SITTING ON THE FIRE ESCAPE AT THAT TIME. I WAS FOUR YEARS OLD. WATCHING THE STEAM ENGINE TRAINS ON THE ELEVATORS RUN BY. THE STREET WAS ALLEN STREET IN NEW YORK.

NEW YORK WAS RAW AT THAT TIME. IT WAS 1895. IT WAS YET THE GAY '90S.

THE BOWERY WAS FOUR BLOCKS AWAY FROM ALLEN STREET. THE BOWERY AT THAT TIME WAS THE HOTTEST STREET IN NEW YORK.

WHEN I WAS 5 YEARS OLD I WALKED TO THE BOWERY AND SAT ON THE CURB

II

WATCHING THE CABLE CARS GO BY.

LATER ON WE MOVED TO STANTON STREET 2 BLOCKS FROM THE RIVER.

AT THAT TIME AROUND 1898 THERE WAS THE SPANISH AMERICAN WAR ON.

ADMIRAL DEWEY WAS THE HERO. WHEN I GOT OLDER I WENT SWIMMING IN THE RIVER.

I THOUGHT I KNEW HOW TO SWIM. SO I JUMBED IN THE RIVER. WHEN I WENT DOWN I WONDERED WHEN I WILL COME UP.

WHEN I CAME UP I MOVED MY HANDS.

III

AND BIG BOYS SEEN THAT I WAS DROWNING.

SO THEY JUMBED IN THE RIVER AND GRABED ME BY THE HAIR AND SAVED ME.

FOR TWO DAYS I WAS SICK FROM THE WATER  THAT I CONSUMED.

AS I GOT OLDER I STARTED SELLING NEWS PAPERS AT THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE.

AT THAT TIME THE PAPERS SOLD WHOLESALE 2 PAPERS FOR A PENNY AND I SOLD THEM FOR A PENNY EACH.

I WENT SELLING PAPERS AT THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE THAT LEAD ME TO CHINE TOWN.

AS I GOT OLDER I WENT TO WORK ON RAILROADS.

AND DOCKS AND SHIPS.

IV

THE STORY I WANT TO EXPLAIN THAT HOW WE LIVED IN THEM DAYS.

WE WORKED LONG HOURS AND WE WORKED HARD.

ALSO WE ATE VERY GOOD BECAUSE FOOD WAS VERY CHEAP.

I

MY FATHER BOUGHT A PAINT STORE ON WATKIN STREET COR SUTTER AVE.

WHO REMEMBERS MARX THE BUILDER ON WATKIN STREET. WE USE TO HAVE A LOT OF FUN WITH HIM. HE HAD A BROWN HORSE ON THE FIELD. ONE MORNING SOUR PAINTERS WHITEWASHED THE HORSE. WHEN HE LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW HE COULDN'T BELEAVE HIS EYES.

THERE WAS A DELI. ON STONE AVE AND SUTTER AVE. WE USED TO GET A BIG CORNED BEEF SANDWICH FOR .10

THEN WE WHENT TO CARNARSIE. THEY HAD THE GOLDEN CITY PARK RIDES WHERE FOR .05 ENTRANCE FEE THE RIDES WAS FREE.

AND FOR .25 ALL DAY WE GOT A ROWBOAT. AND WE ROWED IN JAMACIA BAY.

II

THERE WAS THE HUREN (Huron) CLUB (When we were in the limousine at our mother's funeral my father asked my sister Roz and her husband if they had bought a new Vulva car (Volvo). It certainly lightened the mood of the event.) ON HOWARD AVE  AND BLAKE AVE. AL McCOY AND SOLDIER BARTFIELD AND I TRAINED THERE. WE USED TO DO ROAD WORK ON HUNTERS FLY ROAD WHICH IS NOW KINGS HIGHWAY.

Abraham Richman, 1872-1969

Dad (1937)

Memoirs of the Past

I
AROUND THE TURN OF THE CENTURY AT 1900.
I LIVED IN STANTON STREET NEAR THE RIVER.
THERE WAS A BIG CHICKEN MARKET.
A LIVE CHICKEN WAS A QUARTER EACH AND
.05 FOR THE MEAT,  .06 A POUND FOR THE MEAT
AND THE BEST STEAK MEAT WAS .09 a pound.

Eggs was 2 dozen for a quarter.
a big pumbernicle bread was .05 EACH.


A BIG PITCHER OF BEER 2 QUART SIZE WAS .06
12 Big Bananas .05.


THE HIGHEST PRICE LABORS WERE SHOVELING SNOW AT THAT TIME FOR .25 PER HOUR.
AND ALSO ON THE DOCKS PAID .25 A HOUR.
THEY, THE MEN, WOULD SHAPE UP AND GET A BRASS CHECK


II
WITH A NUMBER ON THE CHECK AND WE WOULD UNLOAD THE SHIPS.


WE DID'NT NO ABOUT UNIONS AS YET.
ANYONE THAT WAS WAY STRONG WAS GIVEN A JOBS ON THE DOCKS.


PAINTERS WAGES WAS $2.25 A DAY FOR 9 HOURS A DAY.
PAINTERS UNION STARTED AROUND 1910.


CARPENTERS WAGES WAS @2.75 A DAY BEFORE 1910, BRICKLAYERS $3.00 BEFORE 1910.
ELECTRICIAN WAS MOSTLY UNKNOWN AT THAT TIME IN THE 1900.


HOW POOR PEOPLE LIVED AT THAT TIME.


A BIG SCHOONER OF BEER WAS .05 WITH A HOT PLATE OF SOUP


III
FREE ALSO BREAD AND THEY HAD FREE LUNCH COUNTERS ALSO FREE FOOD.


A BIG GLASS OF WHISKEY WAS .10


THE RENT WAS A FLAT $9.00 OR 11.00 A MONTH. FOR 4 OR 5 ROOMS.


IN THEM DAYS THERE WAS NO STEAM OR HOT WATER.
THEY HAD COAL STOVES AND COAL WAS $4.00 A TON.


AT THAT TIME SOME BUILDINGS HAD THE TOILETS IN THE YARD AND SOME IN HALLS.


THERE WAS A LOT OF BIG CHARITY ORGANIZATION. AT THAT TIME AND A DOCTOR WOULD COME TO YOUR HOUSE FOR .50 A VISIT.


THERE WERE NO WELFRARE AND RELIEF DEPARTMENT AS YET OR SOCIAL SECURITY OR UNEMPLOYMENT INSURANCE THEN AS WE SEE IT TODAY.

Brooklyn College 9/50

Sight Singing 101

I came late for that class an awful lot, plus I often cut it. The 'teacher' had a Russian accent and was fond of making a steady stream of sarcastic (or sardonic) remarks. He was cool, aloof, and indifferent. His impersonal demeanor I now recognize as typical of about 10% of the Brooklyn College faculty whose great goal in life was to flunk as many students as possible. He was only one of several Ivan the Terribles I have had to deal with in my long life

He continuously played softly on the piano in a cute sort of way, favoring the key of D minor and stuffed with octaves sounding out the Slavic melodies used in our over sized red sight singing book.

There were about 10 people in the class. The most striking looking one was a very tall, heavy set, good looking young man with blond hair named Prokofiev who always wore a fresh business suit and tie. There was always so much conversation between the Russian teacher and Prokofiev that I do not remember him singing anything.

There was also a skinny, nondescript, casually dressed jazz clarinetist who sang the exercises so quickly the teacher would ask him to repeat it over and over again. Ivan would then sit silently cogitating over the skinny clarinetist's performance:

"You are singing all the notes in perfect pitch and time but you are nowhere near the song itself," he would declare.

That statement would lead to much controversy between the students and teacher that lead nowhere.

There was a girl and a guy sweating it out along with me and another petite pretty girl who incessantly played the arpeggios from the Bach violin Chaconne flawlessly on the piano between breaks.

The guy who was sweating it out told me he enjoyed the orchestra and when he found out that I had been accepted for it, he insisted I should come to rehearsals where, unlike this class, I would have a lot of fun.

When Ivan the Terrible, the introductory sight singing teacher contrived to read over everyone's performance at the end of the term to give them their grade, the class fought for me to get a B, but Ivan with lots of weltschmerz in his voice complained that I was absent and late too much, so he was giving me a C.

There were about three other classes at Brooklyn College that lived up to and even exceeded the standards of Ivan the Terrible. Only once was I able to beat the Ivan's to the punch.

I was, along with the rest of a newly formed class, waiting for the arrival of the unknown German teacher. When he tardily arrived about 15 of us rushed for the doors and got our drop slips. When I gave him mine to sign he stared at me quizzically and looked then hurt that I wanted out from his chamber of horrors.

My friend, the pianist Monty Eisman, also was taking a sight singing class from another teacher said he was doing well with the do, re, mi, fa, method that teacher used. Ivan used the interval system.


Which system do you use?

Three Coney Island 'Friends': A Mosaic Study

Murray, Harry, Jordan (1992 mosaic)

Most people thought of Murray as a hopeless social freak--handsome, witty, intelligent, and an intensive conversationalist, but, nevertheless, without purpose or direction. Of his style of life the kindest observation that could be made was 'dissipated.' After all the years that I have not seen him or learned anything about him, there may still be the possibility that he is grinding away as a harmless bureaucrat waiting for his pension. Or, he may have died from AIDS.

Once, in the early 60s, we were having coffee in Greenwich Village, he told me about seeing Rex Harrison in Washington Square Park walking with two beautiful women hanging from each of his arms. How alive, debonair, and poised Harrison appeared to him. Such a man, he confessed to me, was to be envied.

If only he too could be like Harrison at 60, as he now views him in his early 30s.

At first I was surprised to hear such a shallow view of a life, but then I realized how consistent it was with his attempt to grapple with some of the severe choices he had to now make at this stage of his life.

Harry was another story. After a troubled youth, he had managed to prove his worth as a university sociologist. Once when I visited Coney Island in the late 60s his mother who was working at the Half Moon Hotel shouted to me from the Hotel, "He has made Stanford."

We all respected him for his academic accomplishments. Shortly after his mother's Half Moon Hotel Stanford announcement, I spent a day with him in Coney Island, on the boardwalk where we ate giant hot egg rolls from a Chinese food vendor. I can still see the egg roll steaming out of Harry's mouth and I marvelled at the gusto with which he devoured the hot egg roll.

However, I felt that his "do good ism" was still cankered over by an unrelenting egocentricity which he carried over from his earlier Narcissistic days.

All three of us had strong adolescent desires to see American capitalism somehow change for the better.

That did not happen.

For the early '90s when I wrote this sketch, it appeared that the polarities of capitalism and communism had been temporarily resolved by a Pax America supporting a world economy. American capitalism grew by leaps and bounds each day. Politics based on Marxism of any variety became remote, futile, and even ridiculous

World politics and movements in the early '90s are on such a novel scale as to defy the simplistic Marxian dialectics from the 1940s thru to the 1960s. The term Post-Modern says it all.

Those of us who have held radical views (like Jeremiah Wright) have been catapulted into our own self-seeking orbits. For us, the "Coney Island Friends," there is no longer a common denominator.