Sheldon

Sheldon Greenwald was the poster child of average looks— standing 5‘ 9“ tall, with a medium build and no outstanding features that would ever earn him a job as a Chippendales dancer. He had brown hair and brown eyes, albeit nice-looking eyes concealed behind a brutish pair of prescription Costco glasses. What he lacked in aesthetic pizzazz, he more than made up for in wit, creativity and a sense of self often attributed to war heroes and Zen monks. Sheldon’s true gifts were much like those of an oyster. One had only to crack open the shell and rinse off the gooey stuff before the treasure would emerge.

     From an early age, Sheldon was an avid reader and had an imagination that would rival that of Timothy Leary under the influence. Raised in a stable Jewish home, Sheldon kept his wilder thoughts under the lock and key of his diary but he always made Mom proud by winning writing competitions during his scholastic years. Thank God she never found that diary. Sheldon’s dad was in the jewelry business and traveled constantly throughout the years of his son’s childhood. He would always return home with exotic gifts for his son, which fueled Sheldon’s interest in international travel.

     With his father away so much, Sheldon was raised by a doting yet domineering mother. His sister wasn’t much better. Sheldon was never allowed to climb trees, throw boomerangs, or walk around with a toothpick in his mouth because his mother knew people who had died doing each of those things within a three-block radius of their home. She projected her fears onto Sheldon and these fears stuck to him like a thick coat of marine varnish. With that, Sheldon learned to play the piano instead of football.

     Sheldon was never a whiz with the ladies. As a late blooming mama’s boy, he reached puberty by the time most of his friends were getting laid by flight attendants. However, a two-year college relationship with Gigi, a French exchange student, raised his status among straight men and got him noticed by more sorority babes who wondered ”What fiery stallion lies beneath this milk-toast exterior that would satisfy such a beautiful French whore?“

     Through that relationship, Sheldon learned how to combine the romance of Western Europe with the physical dexterity described in the Kama Sutra. In truth, he had cared deeply for Gigi. She was in fact his first true love. When she returned to Paris at the end of their senior year to run her ailing parents’ bakery, he drowned his sorrows in a weekend Tijuana drinking binge. He blacked out sometime Sunday evening and woke up the next morning in the mop closet of an aircraft carrier docked at the Coronado Naval Base. He and Gigi never spoke after she left, but every Christmas Eve for the past ten years, Sheldon had received an overnight package direct from Paris of a dozen cream-filled éclairs. Viva la France!

     Sheldon finished his Tai Chi long form on the patio of the Sherman Oaks home in which he grew up. He still lived with his mother but invoked the technicality that he really didn’t live with her because the guesthouse where he slept wasn’t connected to the main property. Not surprisingly, Sheldon was still single and not dating anyone.

     ”Sheldon, you’re macadamia pancakes are ready. Come sit!“ His mother had a shrill voice that could break a wine glass seven miles away when the humidity was just right.

     Sheldon worked as the copy manager for Ad Infinitum, a mid-sized ad agency in North Hollywood. Largely through his creative efforts, he had landed the Dragon Star account, a Korean manufacturer of home entertainment equipment. But just as Disney had Touchstone Pictures to promote its prurient urges, Dragon Star had a division of adult toys, branded under the name of ”Buddy Boy“. Sheldon clinched the deal when he delivered a new slogan for Buddy Boy that  ”Marlon“ Yang, Dragon Star president and American film buff, fell in love with: “Buddy Boy - now that’s entertainment!”

     Sheldon mused over this triumph as he drizzled syrup over the exotic breakfast fare. Admittedly, Sheldon wasn’t entirely responsible for winning the multi-million dollar client. Sheldon had a design counterpart, whose own sleazy and slick personality translated perfectly to the Buddy Boy packaging. And it didn’t hurt that said counterpart had an uncanny resemblance to Robert Redford, one of Marlon Yang’s favorite actors. His name and attitude were both the same, Derek Armstrong.