These days I look forward more to the Super Bowl party than to the game, especially since neither the Giants nor Jets is playing. Each year I go to Adam and Sharon’s. They used to live right around the corner, so it was a five minute walk door to door. They’ve bought a house in Marine Park and it will be the first time I’m visiting it. We used to see each other every work day, but now Adam is the only one of us still working at the Exchange. In fact, he read a copy of the original manuscript for Exchanges, my fourth novel, fifth book, which should be issued shortly. He thought I nailed the madness that was commodity trading in the open outcry era, before electronic trading assumed control of the markets, and changed the atmosphere completely. I hope that’s true. The only other person to have read it, my college buddy Jim, was shocked by and disapproving of that bizarre world, an outsider’s perspective. I hope readers find the scenes on the trading floor comic, profane though many of them are. It took me years to get used to it, and I never got to the point where I felt it was a second home, as much as I loved and admired many of the people who worked there. I was always amazed at how passionate many of the traders were about the action. Of course, that is a good thing, although the result was often harsh and exasperating, and occasionally demeaning. The world needs those types as much as it needs any others. One of the greatest things about the freedom America provides is the variety that comes from it. Everyone is allowed to find a niche. The trading floor wasn’t mine, but employment there, the short work day and generous benefits, allowed me to pursue my literary folly. And the wide assortment of ethnic origins and personalities provided as wonderful a perspective of the human condition as can be, something I try to capture in my most serious work. This will seem strange, but it took me years to come up with an appropriate title for the book - when it should have been obvious all along. One day I got to wondering how many people I knew on a first name basis, having worked there more than 20 years. And I knew something about each one, enough to converse for at least a few minutes. Exchanges is in part about the brief connections we make with others each day. I do not miss working there, but I realize how privileged I was to have experienced it. Oddly, I recall my days at St. Mary’s Elementary School with a similar fondness, despite the ridicule and blows I received from the nuns there. For years I was appalled by and afraid of the world. One of the best things that ever happened to me was stumbling into a job at the Exchange. The world will always be a scary place, but working the trading floor helped me a great deal in learning how to cope with it.
Fortunately, I was not deterred by the forecast. Since there were no flurries in the air when I exited the old house, laundry in tow, I headed to Bay Parkway. The floating book shop was not set up more than a few minutes when Maryann came along and bought five fantasy novels. A minute later Bad News Billy bought 30 of the Big Band Era CDs that Marie had donated. And a few other people bought stuff as well. It shows what may happen when the effort is made. Thanks, folks.
Visit Vic's sites:
Vic's Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic's Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic's 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic's Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3
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