Love In The Time Of Apps

by Jay Begler

  A prime example of the influence of the PPRs related to Goodwin’s original rating of 29 in the Humor section. When he had this rating, virtually everything Goodwin said was thought to be witty, often things not said in jest. People would sometime giggle when he just said hello or good morning. Now that he had a 16 in the Humor section, his best jokes or repartees evoked some courteous smiles, at best, but more often than not blank stares or “I don’t get it.” It was as if, when it came to his jokes, the rest of the world had become HH. Goodwin also wondered if what was happening to him was a microcosm of what was happening to society as a whole. Were prejudices arising simply because of a person’s PPR? He knew that the answer was probably “yes” when he was excluded from a club soiree entitled “21 and over.” Everyone in the club had a PPR of 21 or over 21 except Goodwin.

  About a month after the Sheila bolt, a young intern who was showing her colleagues the proper way to hit a forehand, gripped a large test-tube and moved her arm forward through Sheila’s cocoon of light. As her arm emerged from the light, she and the other interns noticed that the tube contained some of the self-sustaining rays. The rays quickly flew into the air and fell back into Sheila’s cocoon. The interns tried again, but this time quickly capped their test tubes. The light retained within the capped test tubes moved up and back within the tubes, with a liquid-like quality, in sync with the tilted angle of the tubes. The trapped light converted these vessels into extraordinarily bright light bulbs.

  Believing that this was a way to remove the light from Sheila’s body, the interns and doctors began to move all sorts of receptacles through the cocoon. Each receptacle filled up with intense light, but the light surrounding Sheila, inexplicably, replenished itself. Some of the interns walked into other rooms and opened their test tubes. When this happened, the light, traveling at the speed of light, sped back into Sheila’s cocoon. All of this activity was reported live as it happened from the television cameras in the Med-TV Room.

  In view of the interesting and possible far-reaching scientific implications of Sheila’s situation, the directors of the Meditainment Center concluded that the most important thing they could do, “in the interest of science,” was to sell little ampoules of the light in their gift shop. Since these new light bulbs were self-sustaining and used no power source, they were considered the ultimate “Green Product,” a fact that was not overlooked by members of Congress. Seeking to demonstrate that both parties could work together, Congress unanimously passed a resolution praising Sheila as a role model for self-sustainable energy despite her comatose condition. Sheila had just become the poster girl for Green Technology. Her PPR edged up another point.

  Eventually, the demand for the ampoules was so great that the Meditainment Center set up little kiosks in its parking lot to sell its new product line. Upon hearing about this, Schnell, through his fancy Park Avenue attorneys, immediately demanded and received a ten percent royalty for Sheila and Goodwin on all products associated with Sheila, his argument being that the cocoon of light was part of Sheila’s “Intellectual Property rights.” No one really understood what this meant, but it sounded plausible and impressive. More importantly, no one wanted to tangle Schnell’s law firm that happened to be named “Lockhart & Gardner,” which, by more than a coincidence, was the same name of the firm in the television series, The Good Wife. And, everyone knew how good that firm was including the partners of the failing Relgeb, Relgeb, and Relgeb law firm, who eschewed traditional methods of expanding their practice for a nice change of name.

  The ampoules became the second most successful consumer product of the Meditainment Center almost surpassing its take home IV-SPA bags, which were launched by the Center in response to an overwhelming demand from dieters. “Plug it in and watch those pounds melt away.” “So safe, even hospitals use them” were two of the promotional tag lines for the new product. Within two months of the Sheila Bolt, many of the most exclusive restaurants in New York, Los Angeles and San Francisco, developed whole menu sections devoted to gourmet Spa IV Bags. On Emeril Live, the famous chef and cooking show host, Emeril Lagasse, would shout ‘Bam!” as he plugged a Spa Bag into to an audience member who would say after a few minutes, “Why I can even taste the truffles.” Spa IV cookbooks and kits were soon on the market and a Spa IV only restaurant, ‘Bag it” opened in the Hamptons, to the delight of the growing number of East End “Baggyvores.” Capitalizing on its name, the famous Beverly Hills restaurant, Spago, began franchising fast food, Spa-IV bag restaurants called “SPA-GOES.”

  In another interesting merchandising deal, Nike paid Marriott an undisclosed amount to have the Meditainment Center’s doctors wear little Nike Swoosh symbols on their uniforms. People Magazine reported that Nike offered Schnell one million dollars to have its sneakers put on Sheila. Nike was also test marketing a new rubber soled sneaker, to be called “Sheila’s Shoppers Model,” for women like Sheila who were interested in getting a jump on their shopping competition. Thus, Sheila was likely to become the Tiger Woods or Michael Jordan of the sport of shopping, notwithstanding that she was comatose.

  The aftermath of the Sheila Bolt also converted the sleepy village of Grace Harbor from an affluent bedroom community to a major tourist destination, something akin to Hyannis Port in the very early 60s, when John F. Kennedy resided there in the summer. All kinds of memorabilia shops opened with artifacts replicating the Sheila Bolt, including T-shirts, plaques, post cards, and little liquid-filled domes all showing Sheila’s comatose silhouette.

  Enterprising young men and women, who once sold maps of the stars in Beverly Hills, now hawked maps showing the location of certain houses in Grace Harbor. Since there were no celebrities as such in the town, the maps showed the location of Sheila’s house and the houses of her friends and vendors. Thus, for example, there was an arrow pointing to a modest home with the notation, “Sheila’s Butcher.”

  The Med-TV Room also became a religious shrine of sorts with people coming from all over the world to view Sheila. Some called the Med-TV room the “Lourdes of Long Island.” It was rumored, but never confirmed, that the Host-Pital and Lourdes were cross-promoting visits to both sites under a “Buy one miracle, get the second miracle free” program.

  The great interest in Sheila inevitably led to visits by super celebrities. To entice celebrities to visit, thereby boosting television ratings, the Host-Pital laid down a red carpet from the entrance to the Med-TV room to Sheila’s bedside. It wasn’t long before the celebrities were interviewed on what they were wearing as they walked to Sheila’s bed.

  Several celebrities were brave enough to place their heads directly into the mysterious light. While all these celebrities claimed that their visits were for “spiritual reasons,” their motivation was probably tied to the fact when any individual that placed their face in Sheila’s Light, all of their wrinkles disappeared. The Meditainment Center was soon charging $1400 for a “face dip,” and spurred business with the slogan, “Forget Botox, try Glowtox. ®”

  Internet show-business blogs carried stories that Dancing with the Stars was desperate to have Sheila appear on the show despite her comatose condition and was willing to pay two million dollars for the privilege. When an incredulous reporter asked one of the show’s executives how they could possibly achieve this, he replied in all seriousness, “We’ll duct tape her to her partner. We also guarantee that she will receive all tens for the whole show.”

  Reporters scoured Grace Harbor and interviewed many of the Goodwin’s friends, neighbors and relatives. Without exception everyone had nothing but wonderful things to say about Sheila. Sheila’s nephew and niece, for example, said she was a wonderful and loving aunt. This was true. A woman who refused to appear on camera because her face was puffy that day, said that she knew Sheila quite well and that the poor woman was ‘love-starved.” This remark shocked Goodwin since, when it came to love making, Sheila appeared to be on a perpetual diet. Kass’ wife and a close friend of Sheila said that one of Sheila�
�s greatest disappointments was that she always wanted children, but Goodwin was “impotent.” Goodwin never knew if this was something the woman made up on her own or was told to her by Sheila.

  Sheila’s father said that though Sheila was deeply in love with Goodwin, he required an employment contract as a condition for marrying Sheila. The fact was that Sheila’s father made Goodwin sign a pre-nuptial agreement as a pre-condition for the marriage. A few women Goodwin had never met in his life, described all sorts of lewd encounters with him.

  Stories about an illicit affair by Goodwin with a woman named Sophie began to surface in the press. She became the mystery woman of the hour. Tabloids carried headlines: WHO IS SOPHIE? and WHERE IS SOPHIE? One story mentioned, “On good authority,” that Sophie was homeless and Goodwin forced her to have sex with him, while Dobermans watched the action. The part about the Dobermans was true.

  Given this mosaic of media coverage, the public portrait of Sheila that began to evolve was that of a decent, mistreated, partially impaired woman, now fighting for her life. Goodwin, by contrast, was viewed as a cad or worse, a cad and a half. If Sheila’s public persona was Yang, his was definitely Yin. Goodwin attempted to blunt these false accusations, but the more he protested, the more the media exaggerated his negative side. He had become the bad boy to track and attack. Negative stories about him helped sell more papers. Putting down Goodwin was becoming fashionable. All of this was reflected in his newest ratings:

  Philip Goodwin, Age: 54

  Married to Sheila Goodwin –Now separated.

  Grace Harbor, New York

  CEO: Threads Inc. New York City

  S L P A H

  11 11 11 11 11

  “I dislike him more than I dislike Bernie Madoff, who stole all of my money. It’s sad that my niece who was pregnant with Philip didn’t have a miscarriage. I’ve never told this to anyone, but once when he thought I was sleeping he touched me improperly. Aunt Hilly

  Once this rating was published, the Board of Directors of Harborside ousted Goodwin as its president and the new president of the club sent a note to Goodwin which said that if his rating went any lower he would be asked to withdraw from the club. “After all, Philip,” the note said, “we have a certain standard to uphold.” By contrast, Sheila’s rating continued to edge up and she was quickly approaching Oprah Winfrey territory. Poor Goodwin; he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time; in other words, Earth, in this century.

  Part Five

  Great Moments In Medicine

  The Electric Enema

  Most golf magazines rate the 18th hole at Harborside as the fifth most difficult hole east of the Mississippi. Its fairway, narrow as a ruler and extending 629 yards from tee to green, is one of a handful in the country that is a triple dogleg, curving to the left 200 yards out, to the right at 400 yards and sharply left again at the 550 yard marker. It is not just the length or serpentine layout of the 18th that makes it so formidable. Large sand traps litter the fairway and surround a steeply elevated, undulating green. A player who misses the green by even a foot will see his or her ball drift down to a deep sand trap or into thickets of high, uncut, Bermuda grass. Worst of all, just short of the third dogleg two wide and high maple trees impose themselves in the middle of the fairway. No one knows how old these broad-bowed trees are, but it is likely that they provided shade to the Shinnecock Indians and, thereafter, artistic subject matter for the likes of Winslow Homer. Their chief function for the last 90 years, however, has been to wreak havoc with the best-intentioned golf shots.

  The newer members of Harborside call the 18th the “hole from Hell” and the twin maples, “Hell’s Angels.” Its most senior members refer to the 18th as “McDonald’s Folly,” a name derived from Terrence “Terri” McDonald, the head pro at St. Andrews shortly after WWII. Known as “The Pride of Scotland,” and “The Big Mac,” McDonald had the lead in the last round of a major national golf tournament, hosted that year by Harborside, but took a seven on the 18th and lost by one stroke to his closest rival, the great Sam Snead.

  McDonald was so despondent over his disappointing loss that he never played golf again, opting instead to fulfill his lifelong dream of opening the first fast-food hamburger restaurant in Glasgow. Had he won the tournament, he would have undoubtedly followed his instinct and called his new culinary venture McDonald’s, but his business advisors thought that under the circumstances he should chose another name. McDonald’s, these wise men concluded, would not be a good name for a place that sold hamburgers. Terri’s idea of having twin arches, a sign showing the number of hamburgers sold and a large hamburger named after himself, in this case, The Big Mac, was also rejected as “bad haggis,” a common term used by Scottish advertising agencies to shoot down a marketing pitch or advertising concept which did not emanate in-house. He might have insisted on these concepts had he won. Unfortunately, McDonald’s confidence was so shattered by his loss that he simply followed the recommendation of advisors and called the restaurant “Beneath The Kilt.”

  The subsequent history of Terri and his restaurant can best be described the way the locals portray the weather at St. Andrews, “a wee bit foggy.” The restaurant was a failure and went out of business, though the name chosen by his advisors lives on. “Beneath The Kilt” is now Glasgow’s most popular gay bar.

  None of this golf trivia loomed particularly large for Goodwin on this fine late Sunday afternoon almost six months after the Sheila Bolt and his ensuing spankings by the media. McDonald’s Folly seemed rather benign as he prepared to hit from the tee box on the 18th. Goodwin was confident and in high spirits. He had played the best round of golf in his entire life, and if he played the eighteen reasonably well, even took a seven, he would beat his personal best of 79.

  As Goodwin gave his club a final waggle and took one last look down the fairway before taking his swing, an image of the paparazzi imposed itself onto his consciousness, but for less than a millisecond. With the exception of this transient interruption, he had been totally focused this day on golf, his concentration otherwise undiluted by the mongering of the media.

  In the early days after the Sheila Bolt, when Goodwin was hounded by the press, he had pleaded with them to respect his privacy. Whenever he used that word, however, it evoked a collective guffaw from the gaggle of reporters with one usually saying something like “Hey Goodwin, you know what privacy and the Dodo bird have in common? They are both extinct.” As Goodwin soon learned, however, dealing with the media on a daily basis was, in a way, very much like jogging or playing golf or lying. The more you did it, the better you became at it. Goodwin was becoming media tough. By the end of the first month following Sheila’s coma, Goodwin’s media skin had thickened considerably. To the consternation of most of the reporters, he simply brushed off questions intended to unglue him. With a little coaching from Schnell, a master teacher for these situations, Goodwin soon had stock responses he could turn to for all questions. He was, Schnell told him admiringly, as well prepared as any presidential candidate before a debate.

  “Isn’t it true you were having an affair, Mr. Goodwin?”

  “No. I admit to having a single liaison with another woman, but if you check your facts, it was after Shelia had left me to go live with another man. Next question.”

  “Well, where is the other woman, Sophie?”

  “I don’t really know. But let me ask you a question. Why is Sophie relevant?” No reporter responded to this question. Goodwin appreciated Schnell’s observation that reporters hated responses that were questions to their questions. “They react like vampires to sunlight when you ask them a question,” Schnell advised. Goodwin once thought that this observation might be literally true because when he did respond to a reporter’s question with a question he thought he heard the reporter hiss and believed he saw a wisp of smoke rising from the reporter’s body, though he later attributed his observation to morning mist.

  “Do you believe it’s right for you to date other wo
men, while Shelia is fighting for her life?”

  “Let me remind you, once again, that Sheila had an affair while we were married and left me for her lover. I should point out that from the moment that Sheila was struck by lightning to the present, I have not dated.” This was not entirely true.

  “Isn’t it a fact that the only reason you go to the Meditainment Center on a daily basis is because of all the bad publicity you are getting?”

  “Well, as you know, I went to the Meditainment Center before the news story really broke. While I was very hurt by Sheila’s leaving me, I still respect her and continue have good feelings for her.” Schnell and Goodwin struggled over the appropriate adjective to go with “feelings,” and finally settled on “good,” since it seemed to have the right connotation.

  “Your great Aunt Hilly, claims you were or are a bed wetter. True or false?

  “False and false. The second false is that I don’t have a great Aunt Hilly. Let me ask you, have you ever seen this woman named Hilly?”

  With the slightest hint of smoke rising from his body the reporter responded, “Hiss!”

  Besides being able to parry successfully with the members of the press, Goodwin had also managed to go on a number of television interviews and, with coaching by Schnell, deflected accusations and claims deftly and managed to be quite charming. His ratings began to inch up.

  About this time, Shelia and her mysterious cocoon were beginning to become stale news. The public, continually insatiable for something new, was becoming bored with the Sheila story. Sheila’s cocoon of light was viewed as some kind of weird physical event and nothing more. The side benefit of this was that the press and media also began to lose interest in Goodwin and the plethora of the negative press that plagued him had virtually disappeared. The Med TV room once filled to capacity with reporters was virtually empty. All of the Shelia brand merchandise, so hot a few months earlier, was placed in the Meditainment Center’s gift shop’s clearance bins. The SPA IV “eating trend” tanked, as did the restaurants that specialized in this type of “food.” Nike advised Schnell that it was “re-thinking” the sneaker deal because it was beginning to “bomb in the test market.” The Meditainment Center even began making plans to move Sheila to a more conventional room in favor of using the Med-TV room for a “medical guest” with “higher Nielson ratings.”