A TRIBUTE TO THE MAN ON MY SHOULDER

This… to a man who has left this domain and yet still sits, and will forevermore sit on my shoulder whispering wise words to me when I need them. I shall call him Mr. Weinberger. I never knew his first name. He was a jeweler and a hollow bangle maker. He had his office on the same floor as I and our paths crossed often. One day he opened his door and saw me waiting for the elevator. He must have recognized a bit of a forlorn look on my face. “Everything all right, Mr. Mark?” he asked me. I hesitated. I was in my mid-twenties. Divulging a problem was, to me at that time, a sign of weakness. He waited. I motioned with my chin to the office next to his. It belonged to Simon Applebaum. Applebaum used to love to bang his fist on a table and shout, “In my shop, I’m Hitler.” He thrived on instilling fear. I turned to face Weinberger straight on. “Applebaum owes me money,” I said. “I’m a little embarrassed to ask him for it.” It was here that Weinberger climbed up on my shoulder, silently promising to stay there for as long as I lived. He folded his hands, as if in prayer. He spoke with the heavy accent of his country. “Mr. Mark,” he said. “If Applebaum is not embarrassed not to pay you, you don’t have to be embarrassed to ask.” Today I am soon to be 83 years old. For over sixty years Weinberger has been with me. For over sixty years his words of wisdom have been whispered in my ear. If he’s not embarrassed not to pay you, if he’s not embarrassed not to return that which he borrowed, if he’s not embarrassed, if she’s not embarrassed, if they’re not embarrassed, then you don’t have to be embarrassed either. I have heeded Mr. Weinberger many times over the years. I have always been happy I did. I have put a few dollars away in an envelope, and when I leave this domain, first thing I do after I retrieve my wife, is knock on Weinberger’s door, wave my money at him, and say “C’mon Mr. Weinberger. I’m taking you out to dinner.” And I won’t be embarrassed to have asked.