Do You Believe in Ghosts?

• Mike mentioned to me that you ask about my well-being from time to time. As you must know – there’s a certain irony or even absurdity in the notion of your inquiry. Obviously, nothing for you is unintentional so how does this supposed show of decency and empathy benefit you in the eyes of those within earshot?

• I really can’t talk about this.

• Yeah, he said the same. Rather convenient, no? Cancer aside, 16 years of service to your royal court and you couldn’t even have the respect and decency for a conversation? Face to face. Like moral and humane folks do. At least in the movies. Did I not deserve that? Cancer aside.

• It’s not what you think. It’s business.

• Is that a page from the Trump playbook? You two have crossed paths, no? Still, I was brought up to believe there was a certain East Coast code of honor, even amongst adversaries. I would never have thought of myself as an enemy but who knows how your mind works? Regardless, you must have missed that chapter.

• It’s not like that. I like you, I really do. And appreciate all you’ve done. You were one of the best we ever had. I miss your cooking too – best pate I ever had!

• You threw me to the curb, John. Two weeks before Christmas. Terminated. Right before my scheduled trip to Mayo. All delivered by your uber loyal, boot licking, boy scout lieutenant. The best words to describe this reptilian episode would be morally bankrupt with a nice helping of cowardice. Did I miss something?

• I wish it could have been different.

• Do you? Really? How many extra rubles did you add to your secret pot of gold? I thought you and your fiefdom were all about Family and Culture for staff. Isn’t that in the glorious mission statement? The hallmark for all new hires?

• I understand your anger and frustration but it’s really not that cut and dry.

• Well then, enlighten me?

• Honestly, I can’t. There are legal ramifications.

• Try me, oh wise one.

• I know the decision seems punitive but it’s truly not. It’s about standards and policy. Practicality.

• The past 16 years – were all our conversations a façade? Just examples of your “practicality?” Did I ever really make you laugh? Or do you practice that? It’s all just transactional, I guess? At home, too? Even with the kids? The Mrs.?

• Maybe “practicality” was a poor choice of words.

• Does morally bankrupt sound better?

• I understand your frustration.

• Perhaps you and Donald have more in common than you are willing to admit?

• Hmmm.

• Obviously, you were born into a privileged life. Yes, you worked hard but your family provided. Always! Your father did something right. Yes, John – you will continue to live a charmed and privileged life without struggle. No matter what happens with your many entities. That’s all well and good – you are of the fortunate minority – indeed fortuitous. So, enjoy the fruits of the family dynasty and even your own contributions. But perhaps take a step back and recognize the gifts and freedoms that those very fortunes provide. I wouldn’t wish cancer on anyone, but should you encounter a vicious disease someday – as you assess your own life’s work and mortality – what will you tell yourself you would change? If anything?

• You always had a way with words. I miss that.

• Do you? Really? Fuck you!

• No need for vulgarity.

• Then what is appropriate? I’m defenseless, here. Like most.

• You’re a survivor. You’ll find your way. I’m convinced.

• The cancer may disagree.

• I doubt it. You’re strong! Just listening to you now.

• This could have gone down so differently. So respectfully. Instead of your robotic and soulless Christian Boy Scout – it is YOU that reaches out to schedule a sit down to thoughtfully discuss how best to end my career. You couldn’t even answer my pleas. You’re a fraud! And a coward!

• Okay, that’s enough. We’re done. I’m glad we had this conversation but it’s over. Goodbye and good luck.