Episode Transcript
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0:00
How do we even talk with one another about
0:02
the violence and the pain that the world is
0:04
witnessing in the war between Israel and Hamas,
0:07
and about our role in it? This week on Notes
0:09
from America, we try. Listen
0:11
wherever you get your podcasts.
0:15
Hello. Hello. Hi. Thanks
0:18
for being right on time. Oh, that's all I got
0:20
really is punctuality. I can't
0:22
be guaranteed to say anything interesting.
0:27
This is Death, Sex, and
0:29
Money. The
0:32
show from WNYC
0:34
about the things we think about a lot and
0:38
need to talk about more. I'm
0:41
Anna Sale, and with me this week
0:44
is Jonathan Goldstein, who you
0:46
may know, I hope you know from the show
0:48
Heavyweight. It's one of my very,
0:50
very favorite things that
0:53
is made, Jonathan. I just want to tell you,
0:55
welcome.
0:55
Thank you. Jonathan
0:58
Goldstein has long been one of
1:00
my heroes in audio from This American
1:02
Life, Wiretap, and since 2016
1:04
with Heavyweight.
1:07
If you don't know the show, the idea is
1:09
that Jonathan helps his guest, or sometimes
1:11
himself, do the necessary reporting
1:14
to track down the answer to some
1:16
question
1:17
or lay down some burden or regret,
1:20
usually from years ago, something
1:22
that's been a heavy weight. The
1:26
episodes can be quite serious or not. There's
1:28
a lot of Jonathan calling strangers out of the
1:30
blue to ask them a question about something that
1:33
you never expect to get a call from a journalist
1:35
about. And you never know where an episode
1:38
is going to take you. But
1:40
they all start the same way,
1:42
with Jonathan making a random phone call
1:45
to his childhood friend, Jackie. Yeah. I
1:47
was thinking of you last night. You know why? Why?
1:51
I couldn't sleep. Yeah. I
1:53
can't count sheep. I counted the toilets in
1:55
your house, and I fell asleep after
1:57
six or seven. But then I—
1:59
I couldn't remember. How many toilets
2:02
is it again? I
2:06
guess the immediate image that comes
2:08
to mind is of,
2:10
I remember when I used to go to the YMHA swimming pool,
2:13
the older Jews would kind
2:15
of dip their toe into the water before
2:19
fully submersing themselves. And
2:22
they would kind of pat themselves on the
2:24
pulse points, on the wrists and the neck with
2:26
the cold water, and say, oh, it's a makaya, just to kind of acclimatize
2:29
themselves. And I feel like
2:31
that's what the call to Jackie is.
2:33
I'm getting suited up and ready to
2:35
be hung up on, as an act of play. And
2:40
then, I'm all inoculated, I'm all
2:42
set to really get hung up on.
2:48
And I sort
2:50
of wondered, I feel like I've gotten to know your
2:52
approach to
2:55
kind of tackling these hard
2:57
questions by listening. We have
2:59
hard conversations on this show all the time,
3:01
and I've sort of wondered sometimes
3:04
what it's like for you when you're
3:06
doing a reporting call. And
3:09
you're about to dial the phone to call someone
3:11
who either knows nothing about
3:13
your podcast, who you are, or
3:15
it's a conversation that you know you're going to
3:17
have to just ask that really
3:20
tough thing. What's
3:24
the thing that you feel and the thing that you tell
3:26
yourself before you dial that phone number
3:29
or click on that video
3:30
Zoom call? What do you find yourself feeling?
3:34
Well, for one thing, I have a lot of – I have like about
3:36
a decade's worth of experience in telemarketing.
3:39
So I've become a little more inured
3:42
to getting hung up on than a lot of people.
3:45
But I guess what I tell myself too is that I
3:49
take some solace in just
3:51
life's absurdity. And I feel like
3:54
if I were to get a phone call like this, it would be a story.
3:56
It would be a surprise. in
4:00
the day, so I try
4:02
to keep that in mind. And I have been
4:04
so surprised time and again by people's
4:07
responses that I've learned that I cannot
4:09
predict how they're going to be
4:11
when they pick up the telephone. There
4:13
was one episode where I
4:16
became obsessed
4:18
with this old therapist
4:20
that I had in my 20s, and
4:23
I had so many questions about her that I was just too
4:25
young to afford really ask at the
4:27
time, but then as I grew older, I
4:29
was like, wow, that was strange behavior that she exhibited.
4:33
And I had no one to ask about it, except
4:35
I had this one memory of a guy in
4:37
the waiting room coming out
4:40
just before I went in, and he was a professor of
4:42
mine, weirdly. And
4:44
so I couldn't even remember his
4:46
name, but eventually I tracked him down and he was living
4:48
in Jamaica, and I just cold
4:51
called him on his cell
4:53
phone. I don't want to make you uncomfortable
4:55
or anything. I want you to be comfortable answering
4:58
this, and if you don't want to, totally fine. I
5:00
used to see this therapist, and
5:04
I have this memory, and I might be misremembering
5:06
even, is
5:09
being in the waiting room and
5:11
seeing you leave her
5:13
office. It was Dr. Mueller. And
5:18
he was just sitting outside and I thought, even
5:20
for me, this is a weird call to make,
5:23
to ask this guy that I have not
5:25
spoken to in decades about his
5:28
therapist, and he was just completely
5:30
cool about it. Why does anybody wear two pair
5:32
of glasses unless they're an alien
5:34
with six eyes? Is she just
5:37
off a UFO? You know?
5:41
Yeah, and go figure, you
5:44
know? So you just don't know.
5:46
Yeah,
5:47
and just kind of generally,
5:50
as you think about all these episodes of Heavyweight
5:52
and all these stories you've told about other people,
5:56
about yourself, what do you think?
5:59
What do you think, like making a podcast
6:02
episode, exploring something that's
6:04
this kind of unresolved
6:05
question from the past,
6:08
what do you think it releases for people
6:11
to do this exercise? I
6:14
don't know. I'm somewhere between like a life
6:16
coach or just a friend
6:18
or a nudge, I
6:20
guess, you know, a kind of gadfly
6:23
type. And
6:25
you know, we're helping people to do this thing that
6:29
they've been deferring for a very long time.
6:32
I think once they sign on, it's sort of like it gives
6:34
them a deadline, you know, it's like for the same
6:36
reason why we join writers
6:39
groups or running clubs, it
6:41
just sort of gives us community and kind
6:43
of forces us a little bit to do the
6:45
thing. Yeah. You
6:47
know, I hadn't really realized how much of a pulse
6:50
of every episode that is this idea
6:52
of like, I can't face this. I'm not going to I'm
6:54
not ready to face it today. And
6:56
how much of
6:56
the sort of narrative tension comes from that you
6:59
pushing them? Yeah, I mean, there was one episode
7:01
where my friend's mom put
7:05
her
7:06
daughter up for adoption and hadn't
7:08
stopped thinking about her for like 50 years,
7:11
every day practically. But
7:14
she just couldn't bring herself to write that letter. You know,
7:16
she needed a context,
7:19
she needed some sort of forum, she needed
7:21
someone to be sitting down at the table with her, pushing
7:23
the piece of paper over to her, handing
7:26
her the pencil and sitting with her
7:28
and that was it. You know, I don't I don't think
7:31
I have a special talent, really,
7:33
you know, I think a lot
7:35
of it is just just being there. That's all.
7:39
Your punctuality. Punctuality.
7:41
You know, you show up on time
7:44
and you don't let people put it off. Yeah.
7:47
That's Jonathan Goldstein, host of Heavyweight.
7:50
Their latest season has just started and there are
7:52
new episodes every Thursday for the rest
7:54
of the year. And I'm really excited
7:56
to share the first episode of that season
7:58
with you.
7:59
The heavyweight is Jonathan's.
8:07
Do you wear shoes
8:09
with shoelaces or you wear
8:12
Velcro?
8:13
Do you come up with these questions by yourself?
8:15
No, I have a writer's room. No, I'm just curious.
8:18
I remember you used to like Velcro. You said that anybody
8:21
who is foolish enough to have to stoop
8:23
down and tie their shoelaces deserves what
8:25
they get. The shoelaces
8:27
get covered in urine and bile
8:30
and that Velcro is the fabric of the future.
8:32
That's what you'd always say. You
8:34
have shoes with shoelaces, right? I have shoes with shoelaces,
8:36
yes. Do you always double
8:38
knot them? No. You
8:41
don't? Any other compelling questions, Johnny, that you
8:43
have? Hmm.
8:45
If you showed up to a bowling alley
8:48
with a watermelon, do you think they'd let you
8:50
bowl? I'm
8:59
Jonathan Goldstein, and this is
9:01
Heavyweight. Today's episode,
9:04
Lenny. Back
9:16
when I was a kid, I often carried around
9:18
a tape recorder and outstretched
9:20
my created a buffer between me
9:23
and the world. Recording
9:29
was my way of managing life, and
9:31
so I recorded everything. My
9:34
parents' arguments... Their
9:35
phone calls...
9:38
My
9:43
mom pretending to audition for soap operas...
9:49
Mostly, though, I recorded myself.
9:52
I made radio plays. Which
9:54
in production prevent...
10:01
Well, I'm sure you're... ...noddling!
10:09
With no one to share in my love for
10:11
a medium DOA since the Truman
10:14
administration, I put on the plays
10:16
alone, all the voices performed
10:18
by me, for an audience of zero.
10:21
Our story opens up where
10:24
Nuggly is about to get off. Oh,
10:27
what a lousy date! That's
10:30
on Nuggly.
10:32
Here
10:42
comes Boom Boom. She's
10:44
my
10:44
dream girl. Hi,
10:47
Nuggly! Hi, hi, hi, boom, boom,
10:49
boom.
10:55
And the whole psychodrama played out
10:57
as a one-man show. This movie
11:00
was directed by Jonathan Goldstein,
11:01
screenplay by Jonathan Goldstein.
11:04
All voices in it are done by Jonathan Goldstein. This
11:06
is a Jonathan Goldstein production. He
11:09
became a David Doododododo.
11:11
It was all just me and my microphone.
11:15
Until the day Lenny came along.
11:21
I was 12 years old when we were first introduced
11:24
at a birthday party. Immediately,
11:26
Lenny asked me what blood type I was.
11:30
Oh, I said, uncertainly. Me
11:33
too, he shouted, genuinely excited
11:36
to find some small thing we shared. I
11:40
was in a Louvre kit, but was quickly
11:42
won over by Lenny's goodness. And
11:44
the fact our mothers, who were already best friends,
11:46
made our best friendship feel faded. Plus,
11:50
that Lenny proved as obsessive about recording
11:52
as I was, sealed the deal. The
11:55
weekends revolved around our recording radio
11:57
plays. Lenny and I would sleep in the morning.
12:00
in the same fold out and his parents' den. His
12:02
dad, Izzy, a large man
12:04
with a thick Polish accent, would
12:07
make us breakfast in just his underwear. His
12:09
undershirt tucked into his jockeys like
12:11
it was some style imported from the old country.
12:15
One time, trying to explain to Izzy how
12:17
I liked my eggs and having no success
12:19
with fried, I described two
12:22
sons in a cloud. Lenny
12:24
loved that so much that he started ordering
12:26
his eggs that way too. Two
12:28
sons in a cloud.
12:36
After breakfast, we'd head to Lenny's bedroom,
12:39
shut the door and record all morning.
12:43
We were a gang of two. Golden
12:46
Lenox presents. The
12:50
Lenox was from Lenny, the gold
12:52
from Goldstein. For the first
12:54
time, I no longer felt alone. Together,
12:57
Lenny and I recorded prank phone calls, our
13:00
parents' dinner parties, and we made radio
13:02
play after radio play, creating
13:04
characters like Flip and Will,
13:06
who burned out radio DJs. We
13:09
take you to Flip. Flip
13:11
is going to Instagram, and Flip is taking you to Will,
13:13
okay? Will. No, Will is taking
13:16
you to Flip. No, back to you, Will. Back to you,
13:18
Flip.
13:19
Okay. As
13:22
a part of the Flip and Will radio show, we did
13:24
live phone outs to our quote unquote
13:26
listeners.
13:32
In the 80s, dialing a phone was
13:34
so arduous, it's surprising people
13:37
even bothered. But without driver's
13:39
licenses or money, Lenny and
13:41
I made the effort. The phone brought
13:43
us a sense of freedom and adventure. Okay,
13:46
you're tiny.
13:50
You too.
13:52
What?
13:55
You know, what would you do?
13:59
I'm going to give it all to you. I'm
14:02
going to tell you. Hey!
14:06
Bye.
14:16
The Cold War is not over. It never was.
14:19
This is Lenny now, age 52. John,
14:23
what is not understandable about this? Because
14:26
I'm getting frustrated now.
14:28
I'm in Minnesota and Lenny is in Canada.
14:31
We haven't spoken in nine years. And
14:34
at the moment, for some reason, we're
14:36
discussing Russia's role in Ukraine.
14:39
What? Still
14:41
there?
14:42
In our late teens, Lenny and I began to have
14:44
less and less in common, and we drifted apart.
14:47
Our first conversation in almost a decade
14:50
is not going well. I mean, I'm not
14:52
sure that I fully get it. You mean
14:54
that? It's really simple. I mean, it's not that complicated.
14:57
Not. Yeah. We destroyed
14:59
communism using the communism. Now they're
15:01
destroying capitalism using our capitalism.
15:04
Okay, I'm sorry, John, I guess it's not your subject.
15:07
The last time I saw Lenny was back home in Canada.
15:10
Our mothers, who were still best friends, thought
15:12
it'd be nice for the families to get together. Lenny
15:15
showed up at the restaurant with a shaved head
15:18
and thin chin-strapped beard. With
15:20
the way he kept his arms crossed and his posture
15:22
erect, that evening, Lenny had
15:24
something of the dictator about him. He
15:27
was living in the bachelor's apartment in his parents'
15:29
basement in Chomedy-Laval, the
15:31
suburb we grew up in just outside of Montreal.
15:35
Lenny drove a school bus for Orthodox Jews
15:37
and said the Hasidim had nicknamed him the
15:40
Surgeon because of how he zipped through
15:42
narrow streets with such precision. At
15:45
the end of the meal, Lenny asked if I wanted to go
15:47
outside and smoke a joint, a for-old-time-sake
15:50
kind of thing. The idea of
15:52
smoking a joint outside a suburban
15:54
strip mall restaurant while our aged
15:57
parents waited inside was unappealing. I
16:00
said, no, at least
16:02
stand outside with me, Lenny said, and
16:04
keep me company. But
16:06
I dug my heels in and Lenny grew
16:08
angry. We parted on bad
16:11
terms that evening, almost 10 years
16:13
ago. And that was the last time
16:15
I saw Lenny or thought too hard about
16:17
him until now. The
16:20
reason Lenny and I are speaking right now is
16:23
because he has only months to live. Lenny
16:31
is dying of pancreatic cancer and is
16:33
undergoing chemotherapy and radiation.
16:36
He's recently gone through 11 hours of surgery
16:38
to keep the cancer from spreading, but
16:41
it was no use. Even though
16:43
that first conversation went poorly, I
16:45
continue to spend my evenings talking to Lenny
16:48
because somewhere in the back of my mind is the memory
16:51
of the kid from my childhood, the kid
16:53
who stayed by my side tending to my adult
16:55
size depression. In the darkest
16:57
hours of my teens, I remember days
16:59
and nights spent in Lenny's bedroom just
17:02
lying in his bed under the black bulb of
17:04
his light fixture, listening to Pink Floyd
17:06
and Iron Maiden too scared to face
17:08
the world. Back then
17:11
Lenny would reassure me telling me to think
17:13
all the bad thoughts I could to get them
17:15
out of my system, to exhaust them, so
17:17
that eventually I'd only be left with the good
17:20
ones. Being
17:22
with Lenny was one of the few places where
17:24
I felt safe. And
17:28
so I call him again and again. Hey
17:33
Lenny, how are you doing? Yeah.
17:38
Our conversations usually occur at night
17:40
with Lenny still in his parents basement, the
17:43
same basement where we spent our childhoods
17:45
and me wandering the silent streets of
17:48
my Midwestern neighborhood. During
17:50
these phone chats, I never know what to say. I struggled
17:54
to find common ground, but always come up short.
17:57
When I bring up old mutual friends, Lenny
17:59
speaks. of them resentfully. With
18:01
jobs, it's the same. The idiots
18:04
at the trucking firm, the anti-Semites
18:06
at the refrigeration company. On
18:08
the rare occasion I raise something personal
18:10
about myself, it gets no tracking.
18:13
When I tell him how I'm now a father of a five-year-old,
18:16
Lenny, a bachelor, says that
18:19
people who have kids only do it for
18:21
ego reasons. Mostly,
18:24
we stick to the subject of Lenny's pain, which
18:27
is brutal. He can't eat without
18:29
pain, stand, or even lie down without
18:31
pain. Sometimes he'll
18:33
put the phone down, and I'll listen to him as
18:35
he howls from the bathroom. There
18:38
are drugs, some prescribed and some
18:40
not, but no matter, there's always
18:42
pain, and anger at the pain,
18:45
and anger at what seems like
18:47
me.
18:49
On most nights after a typical conversation,
18:52
I come home and say to my wife, Emily, that
18:54
maybe this is a bad idea. We
18:56
drifted apart for a reason, I say, we're
18:59
strangers. And
19:01
yet, even though Lenny doesn't seem to
19:03
even want to talk to me, we continue
19:06
to talk night after night, I'm
19:08
beginning to get the impression that maybe he
19:11
has no one else. You'll mind if
19:13
I eat for a while? No, no, no, of course not.
19:16
Oh, wish me luck. Lenny
19:18
says he wants to leave something behind, and
19:20
so we record, just like we did when we
19:22
were kids. Back then, we
19:24
performed different characters. Now,
19:27
ostensibly, we're just ourselves.
19:29
Mm, I really
19:32
outdid my shovel to rice.
19:35
Lemon, lime, garlic and pepper. Wow,
19:38
nice. Nothing
19:40
complicated, and it is gorgeous.
19:43
Great, and how's your sleep in?
19:46
I sleep like shit, what do you think? I
19:48
have to take a minute every two hours. Hmm.
19:54
A horrible life.
19:56
Can you spend your life vainly?
19:59
the universe like to punish
20:02
you.
20:04
All the anger, all the hatred, what do you think?
20:06
Did you get away with it? Lenny
20:09
is no longer the sweet lonely kid who told
20:12
me not to squat the housefly in his bedroom
20:14
because he was his pet. The boy
20:16
with whom I'd been so close that I'd run
20:18
my hands through his thick black hair as
20:21
though it were my own. Smooshing
20:23
it up into the air, I pretended I'd invented
20:25
the latest in men's hairstyles, the
20:28
Beethoven. That
20:30
Lenny seems to be long gone. Even
20:39
though Lenny and I weren't in touch, over
20:41
the years when I'd asked after him, my
20:43
mother would always say the same thing. Lenny
20:45
and his parents were fighting like cats and
20:48
dogs. Lenny's father died
20:50
about a year ago. Now it's just him
20:52
and his mom.
20:53
Do you see your mother every day?
20:59
Unfortunately, I make
21:01
an attempt to treat her like a human being. And
21:05
every day she disappoints me.
21:07
She's gross, my mom.
21:09
My father too, he was gross.
21:11
Too gross for me. But you loved him. You
21:14
loved your dad. Yeah, I did, but he was a
21:16
gross man.
21:18
Who always did everything that makes his life easier?
21:21
It was my life harder.
21:23
Lenny's parents had had another son before
21:25
him, but because of profound mental and physical
21:28
disabilities, he was institutionalized.
21:31
After that, they adopted Lenny. Both
21:34
Lenny and I were raised by parents who saw
21:36
screaming and hitting as the solution to
21:38
all of life's child-rearing dilemmas. But
21:41
from Lenny's perspective, worse than that
21:43
was the neglect. Lenny's dad
21:45
worked a lot, and his mom always seemed to have
21:47
more time for her friends than for him. It's
21:51
something Lenny still can't let go of. It's
21:53
called normal responsibility.
21:57
You know what I mean? All my friends got it.
21:59
How come I didn't?
22:00
No
22:02
Well, what's so unspecial about me that
22:04
I get the shitty fucking neglect, you know, I Did
22:07
my best that's my favorite wine. I did
22:09
my best You know if
22:11
that's the best Maybe it's
22:13
a boss Yeah, that's your
22:15
best Where I'll
22:17
tell you the truth. I'm looking forward having that one last
22:20
week knowing that it's finally done and
22:22
I could just like rest
22:27
Because it's been a bitch this life has been
22:29
a bitch and it's mostly because people have been
22:36
What does one owe a childhood friend Especially
22:39
when that friend seems to have changed so much over
22:42
the course of our phone calls a question that
22:44
keeps kicking around in the back of my mind
22:47
is whether all of Lenny's anger has Somehow
22:49
eaten up the goodness. I Continue
22:51
to phone Lenny over the next couple months in
22:54
hopes of seeing it feeling that goodness
22:56
again And so we
22:58
talked about the sex ed books at
23:00
the YMHA library Watching
23:02
the loveboat on Saturday nights when his parents
23:05
were out with my parents Rating his
23:07
mom's freezer for TV dinners while
23:09
playing Coleco vision Mostly
23:12
though I just listen and try
23:14
to be there and over time Lenny
23:16
grows softer with me and I grow
23:18
less afraid of offending him afraid
23:21
of offending a dying man And
23:30
then one night I receive a message Listening
23:33
to it now. I'm struck by how much Lenny's
23:35
voice and mellowed since our first conversations
23:38
Instead of Jonathan or John Lenny
23:40
calls me Johnny just like he did when
23:42
we were kids Like he did when
23:45
we were best friends
23:47
Hi John, I'm sorry to call you directly
23:49
like this without signaling or anything, but
23:51
the been a development
23:53
and I needed to talk to you As
23:56
soon as you can
24:04
Yeah, but John, is it too late? No,
24:06
no, no, it's okay. How are you? Not well,
24:08
John.
24:09
It's hard to tell you anything else.
24:13
I'm sorry. What's
24:16
going on? I'm just, I'm
24:17
weak. I'm going to
24:19
go into palliative care. Okay. There's
24:23
no other recourse.
24:25
Yeah.
24:25
It's
24:27
getting
24:29
harder and harder to function at home.
24:32
Yeah. I'm
24:35
not too good with pain, John. Well,
24:37
you've been dealing with so much of it.
24:39
No, I mean my whole life I've never been good
24:41
with pain. I'm a whiner, I'm
24:44
a wis.
24:46
I'm just a big wench. It's
24:50
funny, through everything, the pain still there.
24:54
Everything never ends,
24:57
even with the drugs.
25:00
It's not bad, John.
25:03
I don't foresee getting better here.
25:09
If I suddenly disappear or I
25:11
can't talk to you,
25:14
no, I'm probably like, you know, gone.
25:21
I had my last tribe yesterday. I
25:24
traumered around the little bowels.
25:27
Yeah, just like one last highway
25:29
ride.
25:31
It's not a huge deal. I don't want
25:34
to drive into my time. That's what I need to remember.
25:39
I'm dying anyway. I have bigger things
25:41
to think about.
25:44
What do you find yourself
25:46
thinking about? Nothing.
25:50
I lived. I lived
25:52
as well as I could in my capacity.
25:54
I had good experiences at least.
26:00
You know, it wasn't
26:02
the best life of all lives, but it wasn't
26:04
the worst either. Could
26:06
have been worse. That's
26:09
the legacy of my life. Could have been worse. Just
26:16
got out now. I just want to enjoy looking at
26:18
the sky, looking at things. Yeah.
26:22
We're rolling and being alive.
26:30
I remember the last lady she
26:32
was scaring from.
26:34
Who's this?
26:36
The last lady, which
26:38
she was a little perky. Remember?
26:41
Lenny would sometimes drift into delusions,
26:44
imaginary flights that would weave throughout our
26:46
conversation. But other times
26:49
the delusions were mixed up with childhood memories.
26:52
Like time had collapsed and Lenny was all
26:54
ages at once, dying, but
26:56
also back to an age when his parents drove
26:58
us to the mall and their cut list Supreme.
27:01
So if you want the front, see, go grab it.
27:03
The delusions were tender and vulnerable and
27:06
observing them was like standing over his bed,
27:09
watching him dream. Maybe we should just
27:11
go home.
27:13
I'm getting tired.
27:19
For some reason we're at the Y taking a
27:21
course. We're
27:23
at the Y, we're at the YMHA taking
27:26
a course. Fuck, I'm really
27:28
deluging. No, it's okay. It's okay.
27:30
It's okay. I'll tell you if I can't follow.
27:34
So weird though, that I would have such a delusion.
27:37
Maybe it's a subconscious desire
27:39
to visit with you in a normal way,
27:42
in a normal setting. Yeah.
27:45
Yeah. No, we're visiting for holidays,
27:47
normal, everything's normal.
27:56
So, um,
27:59
when we should remember.
27:59
Are we gonna see each other?
28:03
In a couple weeks, the
28:05
plan is for me to see Lenny during a visit back
28:08
home, my
28:08
first since COVID. Hope I
28:11
lost that long.
28:17
No, I'm serious, I'm not going to see she. Yeah,
28:20
yeah.
28:21
Since down to the wire.
28:24
Maybe the last few weeks of things,
28:29
maybe, I don't know.
28:32
Don't get depressed or anything.
28:36
Lenny wasn't just saying, I don't want to bum
28:38
you out. He was one of the few people
28:40
who knew how fragile I could be. Even
28:43
now, he was trying to protect me, even
28:46
as he was dying.
28:47
It's hard to say that, but I
28:49
wish you were here. Yeah.
28:53
Yeah.
28:58
Recently, my therapist recommended ketamine
29:00
to me, a drug sometimes prescribed
29:03
for untreatable depression. In
29:05
my case, she thought it might help shift my perspective,
29:08
which still tends towards darkness. A
29:11
day after Lenny and I had this conversation, while
29:13
taking several hits from my ketamine inhaler
29:16
and about to go for a Saturday morning run, I
29:18
was suddenly overcome with sobbing and
29:20
a feeling of unreality. As
29:22
a man inured to epiphanies, I was
29:24
shaken. Like
29:27
most, I don't often see my existence
29:29
on Earth, approximating anything close
29:31
to a quote unquote arc. Instead,
29:34
things come in flashes. I'm
29:37
four years old, eating a chocolate bar at my
29:39
aunt Tilly's house, taking such tiny
29:41
bites that Tilly calls me the mousy.
29:44
My theory is that if the bites are small enough,
29:47
it will last forever. I'm
29:50
six, regretting having told my father about
29:52
my kindergarten crush, because he's just
29:55
told a table full of relatives about it.
29:57
I will never trust this man again, I think.
30:01
I'm 15 and seeing a breast for
30:03
the very first time. European
30:05
sunbathers are at the same beach as me. The
30:08
image will claw its way into my thoughts
30:10
over and over for the next 10 years. I'm 16,
30:15
getting turned down to prom on a city bus.
30:18
Lorraine Kaufman is telling me that only I
30:21
would ask someone to prom on a city bus.
30:24
Then, for some reason, I'm 50
30:27
and moving to Minnesota. While
30:29
waiting at JFK for the flight that will take
30:31
me and Emily and our then two-year-old son,
30:33
Augie, to our new life, Augie
30:35
walks up to a stranger and hugs his legs
30:38
and I burst into tears. A
30:41
smell, a meal, a day at the beach,
30:43
and so goes a life. Without
30:51
the record button pressed down, life
30:53
is fragmented and fast and nearly
30:55
impossible to make sense of. Narrating
30:58
it helps me to shed light, but always in
31:00
retrospect. With the ketamine
31:02
coursing through me, though, I saw the
31:04
dots illuminate and connect, each
31:07
handing off with purpose, one to
31:09
the other, like a succession of dominoes.
31:12
Tracing the seemingly useless years that
31:14
got me to where I was, with the wife,
31:16
the child, the job, it all felt
31:18
so precarious, like I was standing on
31:20
a narrow column of shoeboxes. It
31:23
filled me with vertigo. To
31:26
the question of what one owes a childhood friend,
31:29
in my case, I owed Lenny everything.
31:32
It was through knowing him in those early years
31:34
that the base of the tower was formed. It
31:37
was in making tapes together in his bedroom
31:39
that I discovered a feeling I'd pursue towards
31:41
a career. Suddenly, I
31:43
could see how everything counted, that
31:45
Lenny counted, that my love for Lenny
31:48
counted. I wanted Lenny
31:50
to know this. I wanted him to know
31:52
that while our personalities might have driven us
31:54
apart, a deep-rooted love
31:56
brought us back together. But
31:58
later that day, I was
31:59
I got a call from my mother informing
32:02
me of learning how to act.
32:16
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slash DSM.
33:27
In the months after Lenny's death, I'm unable
33:29
to let go of how I wasn't there for him in his
33:31
last days. I obsess over
33:33
what his final moments might have been like. I
33:36
begin accidentally calling my son by Lenny's
33:38
name. I do this so often
33:41
that eventually my son begins to ask,
33:44
who in the world is Lenny? I
33:46
try to answer him but never know quite how.
33:49
We were best friends when I wasn't much older than you,
33:51
I say. And then I
33:53
get COVID and I isolate in my
33:55
basement. I watch all the old
33:57
movies Lenny and I used to watch.
36:02
I remember he just,
36:05
there was this
36:07
debt about him that
36:09
I recognized immediately.
36:12
And it just automatically attracted
36:15
me to him.
36:16
I remember being on the back of his motorcycle
36:17
and being scared shit with every time.
36:19
Holding
36:22
on to him so tight, I remember
36:24
his dog Max and how much he loved
36:26
that dog. I mean, to
36:28
know that he finished there
36:31
in the basement. Why?
36:35
Not only did Lenny hate the basement, he
36:38
hated the whole suburb of Chomedy. We
36:40
both did. We attended Chomedy
36:42
High, nicknamed Comedy High,
36:45
because it was so bad it was laughable. Pipe
36:48
bombs in the bathrooms, a geography
36:50
teacher who was a flat earther, and
36:52
a music teacher who married a student. I
36:56
eventually left Chomedy, but Lenny
36:58
never did. Never even left his childhood
37:00
home. How could our lives
37:03
have diverged so?
37:04
He was very unhappy.
37:06
This is Dimitri, a high school
37:08
acquaintance who Lenny reconnected with on
37:11
Facebook in the last year of his life. Dimitri
37:14
was the person Lenny saw most during his illness.
37:17
He works at a local Greek restaurant who
37:19
would bring Lenny salads at the end of his shift.
37:22
He was lonely. He used to talk
37:24
about how it would have been nice if
37:26
he had a girlfriend and some kids, or
37:28
if he had a kid who would have been nice.
37:31
She was always alone. I
37:34
never saw him with anybody, ever.
37:38
He would
37:41
ask me to hug him a lot when
37:44
he was sick. He would always ask
37:46
me to hug him. I
37:49
think Leonard didn't feel really
37:52
much love in his life, and…
37:55
Dimitri also knew that Lenny didn't want the
37:57
basement for his home, let alone his final
37:59
home. When I tell him how I've been
38:01
trying to make sense of how it happened,
38:03
he has a theory.
38:05
Drugs.
38:06
Drugs. When you say drugs, you mean pot.
38:10
Pot, mushrooms, LSD,
38:14
um, lennage used to like to take acid,
38:17
a lot of acid,
38:18
and just trip out in his room
38:20
in the dark. I
38:23
don't know how the total, whatever works, whatever
38:25
gives the beaver's away, that's a little fucked
38:28
up.
38:29
Standing up in the basement solely because of drugs
38:31
doesn't ring true to me. While the
38:33
drugs might have helped with the demons, they didn't
38:36
create the demons. Plenty of people
38:38
smoke pot, take LSD, and
38:40
still leave the house, travel the world.
38:45
Among my childhood cassettes is another
38:47
of my mother's performances, but
38:49
this one wasn't a soap opera audition.
38:52
It's of my mother pretending to be her best
38:54
friend, Lenny's mom, Hannah.
38:57
I'll kill you. I'll take that bloody
38:59
kid.
39:01
During those last conversations, Lenny confessed
39:03
to not only feelings of resentment towards his
39:05
own mother, but towards my mother too,
39:08
for taking up so much of his mother's time, time
39:11
she could have spent on him. As
39:14
for his dad, Lenny saw Izzy as a
39:16
constant threat. This
39:18
is from another flippin' wheel tape.
39:20
Okay, the lines are whoopin'
39:22
now.
39:25
In the play, I performed the part of Lenny's
39:27
father, who crashes straight into
39:30
the flippin' wheel show.
39:43
Izzy would get physical on occasion, but
39:46
her parents weren't so different. My
39:48
father favored the belt while Izzy delivered
39:50
what he called pachkas or slaps. And
39:53
in terms of our mothers, if Hannah had been
39:55
so often absent because of her friendship
39:57
with my mother, then it meant my mother
40:00
was absent too. So
40:02
was Lenny just more sensitive than I was or
40:04
was he dealing with more than I knew?
40:12
You just jogged in memory.
40:14
This is Louise again, Lenny's ex-girlfriend
40:16
with another theory. Louise
40:18
recalls a day in college when she stumbled
40:21
upon what felt like a key. A key
40:23
that predates the drugs, me and Lenny's
40:25
friendship. It even predates the upbringing
40:27
he received from his parents.
40:30
It was my class for developmental
40:32
biology.
40:34
And we were studying the brains
40:37
of children at that point between
40:39
zero and 12 months. And
40:42
we were looking at separation anxiety.
40:45
And we were studying that. And
40:48
I remember being
40:52
appalled when
40:55
I learned
40:57
that at seven months that
41:00
is when a
41:02
child's separation anxiety
41:04
develops. That's when they know what their mother's
41:06
face looks like and that's when they start crying
41:10
when you're handed to another person. And
41:13
I remember being appalled because I remember
41:15
Lenny telling me that he was adopted
41:19
when he was like six months old. And
41:23
that his mom told him that
41:25
all he ever did was cry. And
41:28
I remember coming home that day after
41:30
school and going, Oh my God, no wonder
41:32
you cried all the time because
41:35
you knew that this wasn't your mom.
41:38
To heal from the loss of his biological mother,
41:40
to help him deal with just being a sensitive kid,
41:43
Lenny could have used extra support. But
41:46
instead he got less.
41:48
Just before his mother
41:50
was kicked out of the convent, he
41:52
was christened by
41:53
Andy Asselt.
41:56
Just as I created the alter ego
41:59
of Nedley to my id, Lenny
42:01
created an alter ego named Andy that
42:04
fed Lenny with something I could never put my finger
42:06
on. But re-listening to the numerous
42:08
Andy tapes we recorded all these years
42:11
later, Andy feels like an expression
42:13
of Lenny's vulnerability, his desperate
42:15
need for more love from a parent. Through
42:18
the years he was raised with
42:20
fellow orphans. He never
42:23
knew the meaning of mother or father, all
42:25
he knew the meaning was of hate. All
42:29
the kids would nickname him,
42:32
you're a bastard. I'm
42:34
a bastard. I'm
42:37
none. Andy was
42:39
the only four year old child in
42:42
the orphanage who
42:45
every day would sit down in his bed
42:48
and contemplate suicide.
42:50
No one loves me, anyone
42:53
hates me. What did I do?
42:55
I've got to leave. I've got to get
42:57
out of here.
43:00
I got to get out of here somehow, you
43:02
know.
43:07
I knew by age six I was in trouble. I knew by
43:10
age 12 that life's
43:12
going to be a little harder than I thought. And I
43:14
knew by the time I was 18, 19 that I got
43:16
to get out of here and then stay
43:19
out. I just, you know, I'd
43:21
already learned helplessness, I guess.
43:23
I've always wanted to write
43:25
a book, Lenny said, during one of our late
43:27
night conversations where everything
43:30
the hero does is wrong. I think
43:33
a lot of books are like that, I said. A
43:35
lot of lives are like that. You
43:37
don't understand, Lenny said. And
43:40
maybe I didn't. Perhaps
43:46
a lot of what we take as a life choice is
43:48
already encoded in us at a very young
43:50
age, younger than we can even remember.
43:53
And by then it's already too late.
43:55
The moments are already handing off one
43:58
to the other like those dominoes that
43:59
cannot be stopped. Supposedly,
44:03
Lenny's biological mother was a 15-year-old
44:05
girl who eventually came to realize
44:07
she couldn't raise him on her own. Who
44:10
knows what those first six months were like for Lenny
44:12
and how they dictated the life to come. Maybe
44:15
Lenny was wrong. Maybe his paralysis,
44:18
his inability to leave the nest, wasn't
44:21
as he said learned helplessness, but
44:23
innate helplessness, the kind a baby
44:26
feels. Baby for Lenny,
44:28
the feeling just never faded away. I
44:31
was with him all the way to the end.
44:33
This is Demetri again. I remember
44:35
Nelas today there. He
44:37
goes to me, he calls me up, he goes,
44:40
he goes, he goes, can you come over and
44:42
be with me tonight? He goes, because I'm gonna die. He
44:44
said it. I said
44:46
shut up, I'm not like I'm really gonna die. He
44:48
goes, no, he goes, I'm gonna die. He goes, I'm gonna
44:51
die. He goes, can you just come and be with me? He
44:53
goes, I don't want to be alone. I'm like,
44:56
yeah, of course not. Then
44:58
I stayed with him and we
45:01
smoked a couple of joints
45:03
together. Had a
45:07
couple of drinks, couple shots of whiskey I
45:09
did and I was just
45:11
telling him Leonard, I go, it's
45:14
okay. You can go if you want. Don't
45:16
worry about it. Just go,
45:19
just go.
45:21
Because I never made it to Shambhadi before Lenny
45:23
died, because I wasn't there to hug him
45:26
or to just hold his hand, I'm left
45:28
with a terrible sense of loss. Of
45:31
the many questions I have about Lenny's last days,
45:33
the one that weighs on me most heavily is about
45:36
Lenny's anger and whether it ever subsided.
45:38
Do
45:40
you remember what his state of mind was on
45:44
that last day when you went there? Did he? Oh yeah,
45:46
yeah, he was completely at peace.
45:48
He wasn't worried or scared at all.
45:51
I think he had accepted his fate. I
45:53
think he was just, honestly, I think
45:56
he was just tired. I think he wanted to
45:58
just go. He seemed to really open. He
46:00
was nervous. He was just quiet. I
46:02
have a video of his last words. Oh, wow. What
46:06
message do you want to share with everybody, bro, now that
46:08
you're at the end?
46:12
Dimitri sends me the video he took. And
46:15
when I hit play, I gasp. I
46:17
knew how sick Lenny had been, but I guess,
46:20
irrationally, I'd been imagining him
46:22
on the other end of the phone line, looking more
46:24
like the last time I'd seen him, at the restaurant,
46:26
with his parents. In the video,
46:29
though, Lenny looks cadaverous.
46:32
You had one message for the world. What would
46:34
that be?
46:35
And he sat for about 10
46:37
seconds. He thought of it, and he goes, Love
46:41
more, fight less.
46:44
We're fighting a desiccation for it.
46:49
Love more, fight less. Fighting
46:52
doesn't get you far, nor
46:54
does anger. In
47:01
one of our last phone calls, in the final days of his life, Lenny said
47:05
that he was so weak, he could hardly lift himself from
47:07
the toilet without his mother's aid. I asked if, in general, his mother
47:09
was being helpful. She's
47:12
trying. She really
47:14
is trying. Oh. I
47:17
have to hear, and she's succeeding, too. She's
47:20
the only help I got. I need her. It
47:23
was the first I'd ever heard Lenny acknowledge his mother's
47:25
effort, which is to say, it's
47:28
the closest I'd ever heard Lenny come to forgiving
47:30
her.
47:36
I knew Lenny in the beginning and can only speculate
47:38
about the middle, but I do see that,
47:40
in the end, in spite of the pain
47:42
and the delusions, he allowed his sweetness
47:45
to shine through. While
47:47
I may never know where Lenny's anger came from,
47:49
I do know where it went. He
47:52
laid it down, at long last, to
47:55
rest. Now
48:32
that the furniture is returning
48:35
to its goodwill home. Now
48:37
that the room was rested in the darkness
48:39
from each moment
48:40
inside. If
48:55
we could get it sweet home.
48:59
We could help around to find
49:01
new mine. If
49:05
we could meet.
49:11
Heavy Weight is produced by Jonathan
49:13
Goldstein with supervising producers
49:15
Stevie Lane along with Stevie
49:16
Flanagan. Their senior producer
49:18
is Kalila Holt. Production assistance
49:20
by Mohini Mogalkar. Editorial
49:23
guidance from Emily Condon with help from
49:25
Lauren Silverman and Neil Drumming. Bobby
49:27
Lord mixed the Heavy Weight episode with original
49:30
music by Christine Fellows, John K. Sampson, Bluedot
49:33
Sessions, Katie Condon and Bobby Lord. Zoe
49:36
Azulay produced this for us at Death,
49:38
Sex and Money. The rest of our team is
49:41
Liliana Maria Persuis, Andrew
49:43
Dern and Lindsay Foster Thomas. You
49:46
can catch
49:46
new episodes of Heavy Weight every Thursday
49:49
through the end of this year or go back and
49:51
listen to their whole back catalog. It's
49:53
available on Spotify
49:54
or wherever you get your back.
49:58
I'm Anna Corral and this is it for today. Solar
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