I’ve been staying up late at night fantasizing about all the possibilities offered by the Connecticut Resources Recovery Authority. I mean, if they can dump $220 million on Enron, give all those nice SUVs to the staff and wheel in those great lunches to hungry politicians and staffers, there’s plenty of room for another creative financial adviser and communications consultant.
Next Monday, I think I’ll start by taking a few grand in CRRA petty cash to Off-Track Betting-not one of those fancy places with big TV screens, but a dive in a shopping center where some of the guys look like they’re planning a bank job. Once I had a great hit there, and I really thought this could be a career. My horse was Livid Purple. Yeah, I picked it the because of the name, and the 30-1 odds. This was around 1975 or thereabouts, and I was probably supposed to be covering a riveting meeting of the board of selectmen somewhere. But my buddy Harry and I had our own schedule to keep, which included the beach, OTB and a few other places you wouldn’t take refined people to unless they had it coming.
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