Harold

Saturday, October 15 (After Chapter 19 of Triptych)

aroslav: Harold Anderson?

HAROLD: Yes. Please come in. I appreciate that you came to see me. I don't think I could have made it to Seattle. The trip to Minneapolis pretty much exhausted me.

aroslav: I hope your health is improving.

HAROLD: Not likely, but I still have some hope. So what is it you'd like to know?

aroslav: Well I usually start out with basics like name, age, and birthdate.

HAROLD: Okay. Well, my full name is Harold Joseph Anderson. Joseph was my father's name, but they chose not to make me be a junior. I was born on the Ides of March and I'm fifty-four years old.

aroslav: Why don't we start with a little of your history then. When I'm interviewing teens we go right to what they are doing today. They really don't have much history. But tell me first about your schooling and a little about how you got where you are today.

HAROLD: Sure. I always fancied myself an artist. I loved to draw and paint when I was a kid. So, of course, I investigated all the best art schools in the country. Pacific College of the Arts and Design was my first pick and Carnegie Mellon School of Arts was second. I was a dreamer. My grades in high school weren't the greatest and my portfolio wasn't extensive enough to be a good excuse. I had good technical drawing qualities, but was told that my art needed to show more development before I could be admitted to one of their programs. I think colleges in general were more selective then than they are today. At least I like to think so.

aroslav: Where did you end up?

HAROLD: That's a good way to phrase it. I ended right back where I started—here in Boston. My parents gave me a jolt back to reality when they told me there was no money to contribute to my education. Dad was disabled and they lived on a poor income from Social Security and piece work that Mother took in. So, if I wanted to go to college, I'd have to pay for it myself. I enrolled in Quincy College in a two year associate in arts degree program. I was able to live at home and commute, but in order to pay for the increasing costs of living independently, I took a job at a local advertising agency.

aroslav: How did that work out?

HAROLD: It turned out that I was better at selling agency services to advertisers than I was at art. I was only a teenager when I started there, but I was selling services successfully by the time I got my AA. Having an income was pretty amazing. I never transferred to a four-year college. I just kept working. I let the draw of having money and security overpower my dream of becoming an artist.

aroslav: Sad. Let's move to something that I hope was happier. Tell me about how you met Lexi.

HAROLD: Mmm. This story should probably be written down so Melody has it one day. She should know I wasn't always a stick in the mud.

aroslav: I'll do the writing. Tell me the story.

HAROLD: Alexandra was the boss's daughter. I first met her during the second summer I was working at the agency. She came in over the noon-hour each day to give the receptionist a break. It was her first summer job and she only worked about two hours each day. It was perfect for her. I always came back to the office over my lunch break as the advertising execs that I met were usually unavailable at that time unless you had the budget to treat them to a three martini lunch. I wasn't yet twenty-one, so I couldn't join them in their drinking. So I came into the office one day and there she was.

aroslav: Love at first sight?

HAROLD: Oh heavens no. More like a catfight about to start. I just walked through the front door and headed back toward my cubicle when I heard this voice ring out behind. "Excuse me, sir. May I help you?" I turned around and looked at her in disbelief. I'd never been challenged going to my own office, but then I noticed that Rose wasn't at the desk. "Who are you and where is Rose?" I demanded. "I'm Miss Locke and I'm filling in for Rose while she's at lunch. Who are you?" Well, I was a little taken aback. I just said, "I'm Harold Anderson. I work here." "Couriers are supposed to use the mailroom door," she snapped.

You can see where this is going, right? I had to explain that I was a sales associate and she doubted me because I looked too young. Not that she could talk. I think she was only sixteen at the time. I was four years older than she was. Apparently she checked me out with Rose and the next day I received a quite civil greeting of "Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson." I just nodded to her—after all she was just a teenaged receptionist substitute, but after I passed her desk I heard her mutter, "Still look like a courier."

aroslav: So I take it you didn't start dating right away.

HAROLD: Oh no. Her father would have killed me. We didn't have a truly civil conversation until two years later. I was invited to a celebration of her high school graduation—along with about two hundred other close friends and employees. There was a good deal of dancing at the party and I executed my obligation to have a dance with the graduate. I asked her what her plans were now that she was out of school and if she was going to college. "Oh no," she said. "I'll be taking over for Rose full-time now. She's decided to leave and have babies." She actually giggled at that. "Well, then, I suppose I shall have to see you more frequently," I said. "Yes. You might even need to take me to lunch occasionally. Just so I understand more about our customers," she mocked.

Well, as you can guess, we did go to lunch. In a few months, I plucked up the nerve to ask her out in the evening. Her father didn't object to me too much because I was raking in quite a pile of business for him. Three years later—after she turned twenty-one—we were married. Her father gave her the house in Lexington as a wedding gift. It had been his mother's home and he bought it from her when she moved to a retirement home. Note that I said he gave the house to her. In spite of being his son-in-law, we did not fully trust each other, even back then. I had to sign a pre-nuptial agreement regarding Alexandra's assets. Mass is not a community property state, so essentially what's mine is hers and what's hers is her own. It certainly doesn't make any difference now. She'll inherit everything by my will anyway.