LIVESTRONG

Buddy's friend John from Florida has taken the liberty of elevating Buddy's status to Lance Armstrong levels. Incredibly nice gesture.  His email follows.

"The attached pictures are of the bracelet that I had made for the closest friends of Buddy.  It is Black and on one side it says" Everybody needs a Buddy" and the other side says "BuddyLove".  He used this name a lot especially when we were in a restaurant and the hostess was smokin hot, he loved it when she would say, Mr. Love your table is ready. 

 

I ordered 25 Bracelets and like I say I would really like to give them to Buddy's best Friends.  Whoever wants one to send me their home address. it you think there is a better way, I am open to suggestions. 

 

Please note, that this is my gift to Buddy and his Friends and no cost will be incurred to anyone but me.  If I have to make a second run on the bracelets, I will do it.

 

Thanks a lot!!!"

 

John Schiebelhuth

Johnschiebelhuth@aol.com

John adds a Thanksgiving addendum.........

"For the past few years, Buddy spent Thanksgiving with my family here in Boca Raton. Let me tell you, my family is no bunch of angels but it was always funny to hear the comments that Buddy would make about my sister or other relatives. Somehow, he could always relate to the situation. It will be wierd not having him sit next to me at the table telling me to pass this and pass that. We all know he loved to eat. I guess we all have to be thankful for having known Buddy and having the honor of calling him our Buddy. Happy Holidays to all! Don't be shy about asking for a "Buddy" Bracelet."

1st Annual Harold P Newell Memorial Dinner

That's right Bitches! We did it. My apologies if my previous post was to melancholy this morning.  Be's that way sometimes.

On a more uplifting note it appears that everyone thoroughly enjoyed the evening of food, drink and remembrance.  

Just to clarify the joke Zitman told it is actually as follows (he was drinking so cut him some slack):

The market is in free fall.  It's Happy Hour and traders are drowning their sorrows.  One trader says to his friend, "Good effin grief. This is brutal. It's worse than a divorce. I've lost half my net worth and I still have my wife".  See, it is funny!

(I was using the new Flip Mino HD camera for the second time so please do not judge my 'Martin Scorsese' skills to harshly - next year we get the camera crew and we storyboard it first)

No Country For Old Men

The day had arrived. The First Annual Harold P Newell Memorial Dinner at "The Palm".  How many times in the past had we as a group, ventured into the Palm for some sort of camaraderie dinner where we ate, drank, reminisced and retold stories we had told a thousand times before.

And Buddy was always the master of ceremonies. 

He had so many stories it was as if he had already lived so much longer than the rest of us.

We know each other so well, have shared so many memories together that we were speaking about why we were there this night in such a "matter of fact" way that I actually almost forgot exactly why we were there. It was just so familiar in my mind's eye that I expected, at any moment, for Buddy to burst through the doors with a grand entrance, as he then began to explain why he was late by telling such an unbelievably uproarious anecdote that would keep us retelling the story for years to come.

Well he did not come in, there was no "Steak a la Stone" (and no one would dare order it). There was no story from him, the master storyteller. There was just a bunch of us trying our best to be as good as he was. I hate that he was not there.

The Cohen brothers were probably right.  This is no country for old men.

(now that I have gotten that off my chest, could there have been a better prototype for Javier Bardem? As usual, Buddy, a man ahead of his time).

Bon Appetit

Many of you have mentioned that Buddy was always the one to take care of everyone else. Several stories come to mind , but I will comment on one now. I was living on West 56th St. around 1987 with either Wilk or List. I was the lowest paid guy on Wall Street, paying my share of the $1200 rent. After months of macaroni and cheese for dinner [twice on Saturdays & Sundays] I approached Buddy about getting on the Froelich& Newell meal plan. Needless to say, within a day I found myself in the warehouse in Greenpoint, which was like Charlie walking into Willy Wonka's factory. After giving me the grand tour with special guest host Mike, I began my shopping expedition. I left there "loaded up" with among other things tomato juice, tub 'o tuna, cream cheese and hot chocolate mix. It was enough to last me quite a while. When I asked Buddy what I owed him, he gave me the usual wink and nod.  "Don't worry about it Zit" I remember him saying. It may have been nothing to him, but it meant a lot to me at the time. It was all good though until Normie saw the entry Buddy made for the items. "Who's this guy there, Zitzer that you gave all that food to? What am I running a charity here?" he said. Buddy in his own way took care of Normie, at least for the moment. Three months later with much of the food still in my refrigerator, I asked Buddy if he thought the cream cheese was still good. He told me that it was fine and that if it had any hair on it to "just shave it off and it'll be good as new". As the culinary expert that he was, that worked for me. 

Just one of many stories I will remember about him. I miss him very much as I'm sure you all do.

Smooth as a baby's bottom........

I considered, for most of my adult life, Buddy as being the first "Metrosexual". And I am not meaning the first of our group of boys. I mean THE first "Metrosexual".  Anywhere.  He was this first person I knew that was so attuned to his appearance. His fashion and esthetic interests ranged from clothing to footwear to timepieces to shall we say, personal grooming.

Buddy was the first of us to go in for the "mani, pedi" and on a few occasions when he would meet me in the nail salon upon being asked what he needed by the lovely Asian woman at the desk he would invariably respond with a completely straight face, "bikini wax".  

Only when she revealed the horror she anticipated would he smile and say "hook me up with the mani, pedi like my boy is getting".  Let's just say she was relieved.

I had mentioned before of our forays to Club Med in the 1980's. On our first trip there young David Zitman and I became intimately acquainted with the depth of Buddy's "Metrosexual" nature.  You see it was about this time in Buddy's life that body grooming was becoming his underlying cosmetic concern . Zitman and I were somewhat alarmed when upon unpacking our first day in Club Med Buddy began to arrange a series of mirrors around the bathroom in an alignment that might be more normally seen at a NASA testing facility.

He would then proceed to break out a series of shavers, trimmers and razors all with a specific purpose usually dictated by geographic region of anatomy.

Zitman and I left for a few minutes to attend to some errands only to return to find Buddy buck naked, lathered up head to toe, beginning his regime of trimming and shaving, all the while singing the Club Med theme song in as joyous a tone as one could imagine (you may note in the photo above that trimming was halted below the clavicle for that particular session).

Up until that point in our lives, the activity of bodily grooming was reserved for females.

As was almost always the case with Buddy, he never failed to surprise with new horizons.  He was a pioneer. One giant, extremely smooth pioneer.

" THE DISAPPEARING TELEVISION"

In 1991 when my girlfriend moved in with me for the most part Buddy moved into her apartment. He was probably there 4 or 5 months until we broke up (her and I that is). Needless, to say she wanted out of my place and into her place. She frantically and hystericall told Buddy to GTF out asap and that he had like a week at most.

Well Buddy moved out and when she moved in her TV was missing. She badgered him as to where it went but he said he had no clue and didn't even recollect it being there. Six months later he told me he took it and gave it away to a friend. As I recall him saying "I eff her in the

a-- there, the broad threw me out with no place to go so I took her TV, bees that way".

Gotta luv it.

The Pirate weighs in.........

........."Bees that way"....this expression by Buddy, cited here by DBG, represents a critical aspect of Buddy's talent.

Buddy was really, as many have pointed out here, a total leader in forseeing new trends such as body-building and upcoming fashion. But the most fascinating "vision" that he ever displayed was the total prediction of Rap Culture.

Many people have remarked at the irony that the White woman singer Blondie created the first widely accepted Rap Song, Rapture, realeased in January 1981. Well, Buddy Rapped that song non-stop for about three years, while every single White guy and girl in America never even new what he was saying. It was probably a decade later before Rap music became a House-hold phenomenon. Buddy had been speaking in Rap for years by then.

He was far ahead of his time, and, as I have said before, it was always obvious to me that this was a gifted aspect of his personality. He never really made any huge coin off this talent, but he was continually ahead of the curve much to the delight of all his friends.

-Pirate (aka Bobby Labarre)

Johnny from Florida recalls his famous bus ride with Buddy

 johnschiebelhuth said...

John And Buddy Korean Bus Tour..

As usual, Buddy and I met up in San Diego for a trunk show. We had a day to kill and we always talked about going to the San Diego Zoo but never went. So we decided to go the next morning.As usual "gadget man' had the latest GPS system in his bag so we were confident we would get there. We were walking to the parking lot where Buddy spotted two big busses with the words clearly marked "San Diego Zoo" Buddy loooked at me and said "follow me bro" I knew I was in trouble. We boarded the bus, and took seats in the second row. There were about twenty Korean people staring at us and the silence was deafening. I was sweating bullets while Buster tells me to act normal. Between the two of us we were carrying about a million dollars in product. Well the bus took off and I started to relax. Buddy helped himself to a coke from the cooler. When we got to the downtown area, the Korean tour guide was giving out the tickets for the zoo. When he got us, there were none left. The tour guide asked who we were and we told him we saw the bus and wanted to go to the zoo. He was a little more than angry and cursed at us in Korean and also at the bus driver. We were escorted off the bus in a not so desirable area. As the bus took off, all of the Korean Tourists were laughing at us and I remember Buddy throwing his half empty can of coke at the laughing tourists. We made it to the Zoo and had a great time and eventually we both laughed the whole thing off. Never a dull moment with Buster. I really miss him

"AND NOW A WORD FROM ELYSE"

Being Buddys older sister brought me great joy as you all know. I have hundreds of Buddy stories! There are two really funny ones I want to share.

It was about 35 yrs ago, Jill Brummer and Mindy Weiss were in my bedroom playing monopoly. It started to get a little boring so we decided to try on some new Huk-a-poo and nik-nik shirts I just bought (wow I am really dating myself). All of a sudden from the corner of my eye I see 6 eyes staring thru a hole that was in my room but soon made it thru Buddys room (Howard Beach spec houses). You know who you are my brothers best friends getting a cheap thrill. I hope it was worth it! The hole was then patched and Buddy was borrowing my nik niks.

Another great one was Buddy pretended to go to University of Miami. On one snowy day my parents were watching TV, as Buddy was enjoying the warmth with his new rolex (who goes to Miami for an education and ends up with a rolex?? Trust me it was not a graduation gift from Normie. We all know how Buddy got the watch. Anyway getting back to my parents and the T.V.they were watching ABC Wide World of sports when they said wow that guy looks like Buddy. When did he become a weight lifting spotter, and my mom said no Buddy is in school. After that viewing he tried U of Maryland. I want to thank everyone for sharing YOUR GREAT STORIES AND PICTURES IT GETS ME THRU THE DAY. XOXO ELYSE

DG here- I need to comment on those 2 stories-

Second one first- We were freezing in school up in Albany watching the Superstars competition and Marc Gastineau is about to do a dead lift and there was Buddy. It was unbelievable!!! I actually tried calling ABC looking for clips for that show to no avail.

First one second- We were talking about that a couple of weeks ago. Buddy drilled a hole to peek into Elyse's room, particularly for sleepover nights. Elyse warned Buddy that she would spit in his eye if he did it again. On the next opportunity for a view Buddy of course invited Normie up for a peek. Of course Normie indulged. However, when Normie looked thru the eye hole, pitooey, Elyse spit in his eye thinking it was Buddy. Normie was cracking up and then threw Buddy into the bathtub fully clothed all the while laughing. Buddy swore it was scalding but it wasn't and yes it was worth it. What do you expect from 11 year old boys.

And now a word from the Pirate......

"I recall that the Superstars Competition was even more unbelievable; on the back of the New York Post, the lead page of the best Sports Section in New York one morning was a huge picture of Gastineau doing a standing press with Buddy immediately on his left.

This, of course, was far before the digital age, and there was no preservation of that picture of Gastineau's Superstars victory with Buddy appearing as his spotter, with the Pearly Whites glowing."

-Pirate (aka Bobby Labarre)

"I'M NOBODY II, HE'S MINE"

We used to swear by going to Low Tea at the Blue Whale in the Pines followed by the busted a-s meal at the Monster headlined by the obscenely stuffed lobster.

On one such trip we were all hanging at the Blue Whale drinking away and getting ready to leave to and head to the Grove for dinner and Mr. Wilk was nowhere to be found. Suddenly Buddy spotted him being absconded in the middle of the dancefloor by a extremely attractive young man. Buster without hesitation grabbed a rose out of nearby vase, sticks it his mouth saches across the dance floor grabs Wilk tells the handsome young man HE'S MINE and tangoes away off the dance floor leaving the broken hearted suitor crestfallen.

Then we went to dinner for our busted arse meal. I do not know why this wasn't posted yesterday but it follows the below post

"I had an epiphanny this morning. It may have been one Mr. Adam Berger that Buddy swept across the dance floor. I need to verify as a)it's been over 20 years, and b)we were pretty toasted as the time. Needless to say we were mere role players with Buddy in the lead, no pun intended."

"Please allow me to clarify............
.........it seems that young David has in fact met his lifetime quota of alcoholic beverages which apparently has the effect of altering his usually excellent memory (I assure you I am no better but with Buddy gone and his photographic memory with him we need to make sure we are all on the same page). It was in fact, one very tasty morsel, Mr Adam Berger, who was saved by Buddy after being surrounded by a group of aggressive men on the dance floor of the Blue Whale.
Second time Buddy saved someone's life that summer."


-MW

"Freeze Dirtbag!"

I am certain you are all aware of Buddy's extensive travel schedule. He was constantly on the go as the national sales manager of "Dubey and Schaldenbrand".  I am also confident that many of you were aware of his proclivity toward internet content not suitable for children. 

One thing I am pretty sure you are not aware of are the unbelievable stringent pornography laws in Canada, specifically child pornography.

Now our friend Buddy, at any given time had between 100 and 1000 Gigabites of what some might call inappropriate digital content on his laptop.  He carried this very laptop across the country, day after day.  It used to be that he would schlep his entire watch line with him to show the watches to clients. That got to be to labor intensive (and to dangerous) so he simply had hi-resolution digital photos of all the Dubey watches on the computer so he could show the images to the clients when he visited.

Buddy had gone to Toronto to visit a client and was now on his way back to the United States through Michigan. He almost always rented a car when he traveled and swore by the GPS navigation program on his laptop. He just simply left the laptop opened on the passenger seat and got turn by turn directions. This is an invaluable tool for anyone traveling the country (and also for those of us that can't find there way around the block).  

Buddy pulls up to the checkpoint in Toronto and is greeted by two young male Canadian border patrol agents.  After exchanging pleasantries they ask Buddy his business and are just about to wave him through when one of the agents asks, "hey what you got on the laptop?".  Buddy, always the social sort responded, "I use it for the GPS, very tight, but I also have all my watches that I show clients and of course some other stuff".  The officers then ask, "you got any porn on there?".  Buddy, who was NEVER without porn says, "doesn't everybody? Just kidding officers.  I probably have some".  

Well that was not wise. Now the officers tell Buddy to get out of the vehicle and they proceed to confiscate his laptop to investigate for child pornography. 

Buddy, in a holding area, sweating profusely (not unlike the young Albert Brooks in Broadcast News), thinks to himself "I have so much porn on there. What if I downloaded something illegal by mistake.  OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  It would have been easier just to schlep the watches."

Buddy, now at wits end after a 3 hour solitary confinement, thinking about his impending cavity search as he is waiting for them to finish searching his hard drive (which is somewhat analogous to an IRS audit) looks up to see the officers standing before him with a smile on their faces.

"Wow, nice chicks you have on that laptop.  You're free to go".  He called me immediately just to make certain that if he was in any trouble in Michigan after that I could have someone come to bail him out.  I never heard him so relieved.

Lessons from Buddy for all you kids out there.

NO PORN ON YOUR LAPTOPS. 

(especially in Canada)

"LOAD UP"

For as long as I know Buster, the man could eat.

The above photo of Big Nicks Pizza Burger Joint was a frequent late night hang out. Typically out visits there were after a long night of relatively free alcohol at Bamboo Bernies or the new Green Kitchen for us. At the end of an evening, whoever was still around met there for a blue cheese burger (my favorite), fries and kibutzing.

Buddy always partook in the same, however in addition to the aformentioned he always started out with at least 2 monster everything pizza slices (or slices of pizza), somewhere between 2 and 9 pickles, garlic knot and or course they never gave you enough blue cheese so he had the super deluxe vats of blue of the side. He always commented on the crap quality of the mutz-a-rell. up until the last few years the guy hardly ever gained weight. In camp he swore by loading up on potato pancakes, like 20 and he weighed 60 lbs, max.

For breakfast, forget about it. He had 4 -5 loaded up bagels with salmon salad, tuna salad, novy and the super delux whitefish salad. Buddy would bring around 30 pounds of the fish salads in these massive containers to fire island, put out the spread and just say "load up baby". There was of course the famous time when he was so fed up with the gavoning that he threw 2 of the buckkets overboard on the ferry, which was the only time I ever saw Dave Zitman weep.

There were many nights and happy hours where we repulsed anyone within 20 feet with the disgusting fish smell on our breath. There was no meal where his warm up did not consist of 2 starter sushi rolls, or 5 dinner rolls, or a couple a shrimp cocktails and up until the last few years the guy stayed in shape and wasn't a self described "fat bastard".

Bruce speaks......

I just wanted to share a few of my favorite Buddy stories. 

The first one is a "My Old Man" story. Buddy gets back to the famous Froelich and Newell headquarters one day and there is Normie with his feet up on the desk. 

Normie proceeds to tell Buddy, "some broad called you". Buddy asks, "what was her name?".  Normie responds,"name some broads you know".  Buddy says, "Susan, Pam , Wendy".  

Normie says, "yea there that one". Buddy says "which one".  Normie says, "yea there the second one there".  Buddy says, "are you sure, I haven't spoke to her in a few years".  Normie says, "I'm positive.  That's the broad".  

Buddy then calls the girl back and she asks,  "what the hell do you want, I didn't call you?" and hangs up on him. 

The second one is a University of Miami story. Labarre and Wilk went down to visit Buddy at school (I wasn't with them, but I've heard this story a thousand times and enjoyed it every time). 

No one believed that there were actually classes at University of Miami, so Buddy took the guys to an economics class. The professor is giving an intense lecture, sweating profusely, really putting his all into it. The lecture finally ends and the teacher wants to know if there are any questions. 

Buddy raises his hand and says, "is this stuff in the book, because I really haven't been paying attention".  Buddy then proceeds to wave his hand at the boys and says "C'mon. We're out of here".  Labarre remains shaken by the incident to this day.

These are just two stories, and I probably have about a million more. 

I just wanted to say that Buddy's passing has left a gigantic void in my life. I miss him terribly. I wish that this was all just a bad dream.

THE PIRATE HAS AN ADDENDUM.......

"Herman did a great job with the economics class story, but there were a couple of important omissions.

Indeed, Wilk and I had been down in Mid January 1981 during our Winter Break visiting Buddy for about a week, when we suddenly realized that Buddy himself was NOT on break. Classes had started DAYS ago at Univ/Miami, but Buddy was still with us on the beach every day, never attending a single class. We finally urged him to go the Econ Class, and accompanied him inside, as fellow students. It was only fifteen minutes or so into the class, when a frustrated Buddy (still oiled up from the beach, donning sunglasses and the famous baby white tank top), missing the outdoor Miami Sunshine, indignantly raised his hand and effectually asked gruffly: "Is this Shit in the book"??!.
The stunned teacher was aghast as Buddy summarily ordered Wilk and me out the class with his classic hand gestures.

Memories of our stays at the Univ/Miami which Buddy attended from 1980-1982, are classic.
We were staying and partying with Buddy, the #1 PARTY guy at the school. To put in perspective, that single, stupendous achievement as the #1 party animal at that school is analogous to being the Valedictorian at Harvard.

There were many great stories, including Consula's plea to "Don't get in on the shawl", nites with Barman, and perhaps the most classic of all in which some malappropriate behavior on the part of young Labarre and Wilk required our apprehension by Campus Security."

-Pirate (aka Bobby Labarre)

"I'M NOBODY!!"

I'm sure you all remember in the Fire Island post about our Friday night excursions to "Flynn's".

Every Saturday in Fire Island we all could not wait to venture out to the beach.  We would love to scope out the surroundings and determine our beach position based upon the attractiveness of the groups of young women in the vicinity. For about 3 or 4 weeks we had seen this new group of beautiful women on the beach with this one amazingly sexy woman in the group. Each week we slowly migrated closer to these girls until finally the amazingly sexy one struck up a conversation with me (what luck!). We spoke for most of the afternoon and she asked me to meet her for a drink that evening.  I was, to say the least, enthusiastic.  Only one problem. This woman was Mike Flynn's wife Karen. Good grief. What to do? I ask Buddy. 

Being the good friend he is and being primarily concerned with my well being, he advises me to "hook up" with her later and of course he will accompany me in case she has any available friends. Perfect.

Needless to say we met at a bar other than Flynn's. We were having a great time and by about midnight the young Karen and I were becoming quite amorous with public displays of affection.  Buddy, who although had a slew of vices, rarely drank and always had a clear head when the rest of us were inebriated.  After his kicks under the table illicit little response he informs me that he has to go to the bathroom and that I must accompany him as I probably had to go to the bathroom as well (I did not).  In the bathroom Buddy made his case for saving my life. He said Mike Flynn knew everyone on Fire Island and that Karen and I were going to get "pinched" and if Mike Flynn found out about this he would "bust us up".  Now Buddy and I may have looked tough in the photo above but I assure everyone we were "all show and no go".  

I realized intellectually that Buddy was right so guess what I did? I asked Karen Flynn to accompany me to the beach (I knew he was right but I'm not crazy you know).  

Buddy decides he had better come along to chaperone.  Karen tried to get rid of him as we wanted to be alone but he was having none of it.  As a matter of fact he went and got Adam Berger to come in case reinforcements were needed. Great. 

It's about 2AM, we are all on the beach, beautiful night and there is no doubt in anyones mind that Karen Flynn was enjoying herself.  We were laughing and drinking and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere like a lightening bolt is some maniac sprinting in the direction of the adulterous scene screaming at yours truly, "WHO THE 'EFF' DO YOU THINK YOU ARE WITH MY WIFE?!!!!".  

Oh yes. Mike Flynn. Pinched.  Now we are like a procession down the beach. Me first, running for my life and of course answering Mike's question with a very manly, "I'M NOBODY! I'M NOBODY! I'M NOBODY!". We were followed by Karen Flynn screaming to Mike not to tear me limb from limb.  But thank goodness for Buddy and Berger. I had, in my short life that was suddenly flashing before my eyes, never seen them run faster - and not in the opposite direction. 

They finally caught up with Mike Flynn and convinced him to take Karen away and they would take me away.  Mike Flynn advised them that they damn well better or they would be in as much trouble as I would be.

And that is the short story about how Buddy Newell saved my life on a spectacular night, on a beautiful beach, in Fire Island in 1987.

After that Karen Flynn moved in with me for 6 months. Buddy relocated into the Witness Protection Program for the duration of that time. (I kid, I kid but he was very, very nervous.)

Buddy never let me forget the "I'm Nobody" night. And I never will.

Buddy's best friend Johnny from Florida...........

Johnny Schiebelhuth offers some kind, gracious and inspiring words.

"What can I say about my best Friend Harold "Buddy"Newell? I worked in the watch industry for seven years and we became best friends. Both Buddy and I have been through a lot during those seven years but nothing like the last three months of his life where I spent a lot of time with him, trying my hardest to show him that he has so much to offer. He gave me friendship which can never be replaced, he gave my family love which they will never forget and now I have all the crazy fun memories of a very special person in my life that can never be replaced. Both myself and my wife took him into our family as one of our own. My 72 year old mother would always ask,how is Buddy as she saw him as another son. Only Buddy would know this stuff as we were very close. I saw him in the good times and the bad and I want to remember him with that ear to ear smile saying "where ya going" Sleep well my friend as you will never be forgotten."

With Love,
Johnny

November 4, 2008 8:53 PM

 johnschiebelhuth said...

"Traveling with Buddy.... I had the distinct pleasure of traveling with Buddy during our business trips. The best of course was Vegas where I was picked up by him in a Maybach Limo and driven to my hotel. When we pulled up, you would think a space ship had just landed. This was "Buddy Style" He used to say "this is how we roll baby". One day we were doing a trunk show in San Diego and we had breakfast together and he had 18 pieces of bacon, four eggs and numerous pieces of toast on his plate. There was not one inch left on that plate. That afternoon, our backs were killing us from standing all day so Buddy called this massage girl he knew and she came to the store and gave us massages in the back storage area. This was going on while sales people were walking in and out of the storage room. She was great. Her name was and this is true "Mother Nurture". Only Buddy could pull this one off. I have a hundred more of these stories which I will post soon. Both Buddy and I getting on the Korean Tour bus will be next."

PECTORALIS MAJOR

For some reason I can no longer recall I had an assignment to work in the office of the football coach at John Adams High School (I am open to all recollections from others).

I was doing menial tasks such as stocking shelves and filing paperwork.  One day I happened upon a metal cabinet, the door slightly ajar. No one was around so I decided to explore inside. In the cabinet I found football jerseys, hats, and assorted tee shirts. I figured I would paruse the items for a while, see if anything peaked my interest. Then lo and behold, THE tee shirt.  The Holy Grail of tee shirts.

The JOHN ADAMS 300 CLUB tee shirt.  Normally if they are not stolen (hehe) the only path to obtaining one was to be able to bench press 300 pounds.  If you look at the photo above you may realize that was unlikely for me at the time. However Buddy coveted these tee shirts. He dreamed of one day benching 300 just to be able to have one of these. 

Well since I was alone and there were a few in the cabinet I figured I may as well accelerate his entry into the club. He was, and I know this for a fact, forever grateful.  He LOVED that tee shirt. 

(special hat tip to Mr Harris Freidus )

Nearly forgot.  Buddy bench pressed 300 pounds in 1980.  I followed by benching 300 in 1982.

We thought we were such effin badasses!

The Sartorialist

When David Glassman blogged yesterday about the clothes he and Buddy were wearing in their class picture it got me thinking. We have not up until this time discussed the sartorial splendor that was the wardrobe of Harold Newell.  

If I may, let me take a moment to describe the "Buddy Newell Summer Collection".

Buddy always had, like many of us, his own sense of style. Let us say he was his own tailor.

Case in point: we would every summer be highly amused upon the initial viewing of his closet in Fire Island or the Hamptons.  The garments never changed. Standard uniform.

First you would notice the unbelievably small white, baby tank tops. They would probably have had trouble fitting the young Marc Wilk in the Na-Sho-Pa photo below yet Buddy would lube up his body like he was swimming the English Channel and squeeze right in.  Then it was time to augment the look. You see Buddy shunned the traditional sport jacket favored by the normal young male.  Instead Buddy chose to go with a garment he altered himself to his specs. The "Cut Off Denim Button Up".  I kid you not, if you looked in his closet he had about 12 of these distinguished only by the shade of denim and the level of fray at the cut off portion of the sleeve.

For the lower half of his body he would adorn some sort of pant or short that would allow for extra expansion in case of high levels of caloric consumption.

The look was priceless. He considered himself bespoke.  As did we.

(please note the lovely Ms. Shana in the photo above)

Na-Sho-Pa Memories

Ok, ok.  The photo is up.  The cries have been deafening to say the least. 

(and just to remind all you can click on the photos on this site to enlarge)

In 1976 we all decided that we were finished with Camp Delaware and it was time to upgrade. Camp Na-Sho-Pa, Bloomingburg, NY was our new destination.

We actually loved it as the amenities were more to our liking.

My memory is not as vivid as Glassman or Herman but the one thing I do remember was Buddy once again being the center of attention for our entire group and winning over the hearts of the many women on campus. Can you blame them? Lets review based upon the photo above. Buddy was really coming into his own now and had started bodybuilding. The biceps were huge, the stomach ripped. With this came an added sense of self confidence with females I think the rest of us lacked.  After studying the photo further you will undoubtedly understand why.

(to this day the disproportional discrepancy between Bruce Herman and me leads to uproars of laughter that may require medicinal treatment to suspend.  View at your own risk.)

UPDATE: It has been brought to my attention that when the Howard Beach boys showed some interest in switching to Camp Na-Sho-Pa the team coordinating the deal for us at a special lower summer rate was none other than "The Negotiators" (Herbie Glassman & Allan Wilk).

Don't mess with Glassman & Wilk. Those m-effers play hardball!

Skool

Education

Buddy was always a pretty decent student but school was always more about hanging with his friends, being a tad disruptive and organizing anarchy. We met in 1st grade after my original class was too crowded so they formed Mrs. Gassman's class (can not find that photo). What I recall, which Buddy frequently reminded me of, was throwing up the day we were called out our initial class to go to Mrs. Gassman's. We were friends since.

2nd grade-see Mr. Newell 2nd from right, bottom row, with Mrs. Williams. I remember this class as completely out of control most of the time and Buddy leading the parade alog with guest host Richie Levinson, Mike Weiss, Paul Parinello etc. Notice a) how well Buddy always dressed and b) the fact that I had the same miserable jacket and tie on 2 years in a row (I guess its good it still fit). Actually come to think of it, it was Ms. Williams b/c when Buddy asked her if she was married she said yes, to the Board of Ed.

3rd grade- Mrs. Greene's class. Buddy, looking extremely dapper, is seated directly above the sign, again in the center of it all. My fondest memories of this class is Buddy leading the charge to float pencils in the pee of an un-named young lady who had an unfortunate accident.

4th grade Mrs. Glazer- She was SCARY. Day one roll call, she calls out for one Harold Newell, 3 times. He finally raises his hand and says "my friends call me Buddy" realizing that she meant him. She, a bright red as I've ever seen anyone screams at him "I am NOT your friend". Thank god i ditched the brown blazer. Buddy is situated adjacent to Mrs. Glazer with the Ringo look.

The stories go on and on.

dbg

"The Mayor of Fire Island"

Being that it is election day it is fitting that we mention that in our Fire Island years Buddy was designated by many in Ocean Bay Park as "The Mayor". It was amazing how many people he knew and how attracted to him they were. 

Every Friday night we would all meet to take the ferry out to the beach. Buddy was loaded up with buckets of food for all of us that he procured from the gigantic refrigerator he worked at when he was working with Normie at "Froelich & Newell" (that ice box was effin cold!).

The ferry rides were fabulous, teeming with twenty something men and women. We loved to get our perch on the top deck and enjoy the evening summer air while we socialized and "kibitzed".  

Once the ferry landed we proceeded to our house where we spent the next 2 hours prepping and having a few preliminary cocktails before we made our way to "FLYNN'S".

Now "Flynn's" was THE bar on Friday nights.  I know you all remember the scene in Saturday Night Fever when Travolta arrives at the disco and the sea of people parts for him.  

When Buddy went to "Flynn's" it wasn't like that (have you ever seen him dance - he's no Travolta). 

But it was damn close.  

(and yes, I will elaborate on the night when Mike Flynn attacked me and Buddy saved my life in a future post.)

Love & Marriage

Buddy never had a great deal of difficulty attracting the affections of the opposite sex (or for that matter the same sex, but those are stories for another time). 

Everywhere he was he always juggled two or three different women. Other than the physical attraction to him, I noticed that they were drawn to his heart and humor.

He however never quite found the "right" girl.  Until Dawn. 

I just spoke with her as she just found out what happened. That cannot be easy.  You see couples all the time but every once in a while one strikes you as being almost perfectly compatible. I often thought that way about Buddy and Dawn.

"Go baby, go!"

Let's just say that in his later years Buddy was better at competitive eating than anything else.  Lest we forget that he was the first, of any of us, to begin the interest in physical fitness. 

Bodybuilding became a major part of our regime because of his enthusiasm and desire.

Today is the Marathon. Get out there and do something physically positive. And think of Buddy while you are doing it. I guarantee you will feel better.

As Buddy would say....."Huge by Choice!"

Some additional thoughts from "The Pirate" (aka Bobby Labarre)

"Yes, that is completely true about Buddy as a veritable pioneer, slightly behind Arnold, in bringing Body-Building out of the arcane sidelines of sport-curiosity to the mainstream.

Buddy spoke about Arnold regularly in the early 1970s, probably five years before Pumping Iron (1977). He had the vision to understand that Arnold would be larger than life, by about 1975. I often quietly pondered how Buddy's "vision" to predict many aspects of life was disproportionate to the many road-blocks that he hit along the way. I think this "mis-match" frustrated him greatly, unfortunately."

-Pirate

June 29, 1977

My mind has been racing lately with so many memories.  They almost always end up puting a huge smile on my face.  I was in a store this morning and "Dreams" from Fleetwood Mac's Rumours album was playing overhead.

Buddy developed an unusual technique to win prizes by calling in to FM radio shows when they were sponsoring contests.  He had three phone lines in his house in Howard Beach. When the radio station announced the contest he would begin. He would dial the radio station number on the first line and immediately place it on hold and move to phone line #2.  Then redial the number, again hit hold and move to line #3.  Rinse and repeat. Then he would click back in to line #1. If he did not get through he would again redial (he was persistent). You would be surprised how many contests he won with this system. However the most significant prize he had ever won was 2 tickets to the Fleetwood Mac concert at Madison Square Garden, June 29th, 1977. 

He immediately called to advise that we would be attending this concert in one week. 

To tell you the truth Buddy and I were not particularly music aficionados but we thought it might be a great way to meet some women.

The evening of the concert came and we were going to take the train to Manhattan.  Then a slight change of plans occurred as Buddy's mother, Carol and my mother, Gloria decided they would drive us to the city. Good grief. The last thing two 15 year old boys going to a rock concert would like is their "mommies" dropping them off. Sort of put a damper on the adventure.

Carol and Gloria drive us in and drop us off at Madison Square Garden. We get out of the car and there were literally scores of people looking to scalp tickets. Buddy and I looked at each other and immediately smiled. We looked left, looked right and picked one lucky buyer. 

With $150 in our pockets we then proceeded to hail a cab for our return trip to Howard Beach to have an evening of fun with the rest of the boys.  On us.

On the ride home we were ecstatic.  And what made it even better? We passed right by Carol and Glo on Cross Bay Boulevard. 

We were cracking up.  They, not so much.

THE PIRATE SPEAKS.........

"Like many, I knew Buddy since 2nd grade in 1969.

He was two days younger than me, born in 1962.

He had many exceptional talents ranging from incredible top-spin in tennis to throwing a bowling ball nearly in the air/line drive to hit the pins.

He wore Armani in the 1970s before any of us knew anything about fashion. He encouraged me to crash Glassman's summer rental on Fire Island during Labor Day weekend (1985) when guests were really not allowed, which enabled me to meet my future wife.

Until his untimely death last month, he recollected more details about the most formulative years of my life than anyone alive. And many of those details are now gone forever, therefore."

-Pirate (aka Bobby Labarre)