(Marty Fleck is a self-help guru, the author of the international bestseller Where Can I Stow My Baggage? and the syndicated column "Baggage Handling." He is also the pseudonymous protagonist of Bill Scheft's new novel Everything Hurts. He has generously agreed to answer questions from readers of the Huffington Post.)
Dear Marty Fleck,
My ex-wife and I were swindled by Bernie Madoff for $500,000. Now, we hear his Mets season tickets are being auctioned off on eBay. We've accepted we've lost everything, but aren't we entitled to at least one night out at the new ballpark on his dime?
Larry Sobin, New Rochelle
Dear Larry,
So, you're no longer married? Shocking. Let me guess the grounds for divorce: Irreconcilable putziness?
You get taken for 500 large, but you're willing to wipe the slate clean for two behind the plate when the Rockies swing through town? How about another ten grand for a plate of nachos and one of those inflatable bats? Good Christ, if you were any more of a mark, Somali pirates would be boarding you.
Wait. I think I can get a couple for you and whatever J-Date dingaling dujour you've taken hostage for May 25 against the Nationals. Right up your alley: Ponzi Appreciation Night. Elie Weisel throws out the first pitchfork and then the rats come over from where they imploded Shea Stadium and make a pyramid.
$500,000 is gum money to Bernie Madoff. He tossed that around to the screws his first week in the joint so he could get a cell with a shvitz. You're at the back of the line for Will Call. He took the Wilpons, who own the Mets, for $300 million. Nice year for them, first Bernie, then they give naming rights for the new park to a bank as solvent as a Phil Spector alibi.
Start rebuilding your life. Do service. Be a beard for Mike Piazza. And instead of pouring over the boxscores, pour over my international bestseller, Where Can I Stow My Baggage? Especially Chapter 26, "Anything Else To Declare?" Other than "I'm a putz," no.
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