Marty Phillips

My small company is Non-Linear Devices, which I have worked at for 34 years. My wife & I sell scientific instruments such as colorimeters, spectrophotometers, contact image scanners, high end optical components (such as Infra-red lens systems & prisms), High resolution CMOS cameras, & optical fiber spooling systems.
Quite a mouthful, but it’s interesting to us & keeps us occupied.
My wife Gail & I are active. We walk/hike regularly, I play tennis weekly & occasionally ride a bike.
We both love active interesting vacations, classical music & movies.

PLEDGING ZBT

I’m standing in a longish, dimly lit hallway, in the basement of a brownstone in Harlem. It is early 1957 and I am on a pay phone talking guardedly to my girlfriend, in hushed tones. I am caught between two starkly contrasted emotions: fear and the almost uncontrollable need to burst out laughing. Gail, my girlfriend has dutifully placed this call to the fraternity house, to this pay phone, as previously instructed, to save my neck from the tortures of “Hell Night”. As it is right now, Hell Night has nearly expired. and it is early in the morning, for those fortunate enough to have slept.

Gail is dutifully keeping me on the phone and out of the scene where the Brothers are conducting one of the last tortures they have in store for the pledges. My contrasting emotions are provoked by furtive glimpses over my shoulder into the Commons Room, where the Brothers are gathered around a prostrate pledge, my best friend, Barry. He is lying on the floor, partially surrounded by an assembly of Brothers and other Pledges, his face a chunky brown mask of DINTY MOORE’S BEEF STEW. It is an irony, that the Brothers in this Jewish fraternity, have selected Dinty Moore’s Beef Stew, a non-kosher product, to coat the face, of a soon-to-be-member of this Jewish fraternity. My dilemma is that every time I cast an over-the-shoulder-glance at Barry, an uncontrollable desire to laugh, nearly escapes me, which would certainly make me a prime candidate, for the next torture session. On the other hand, it is difficult to prolong this conversation of a supposed “family emergency” too much longer, and stay out of the action.

So far I’ve managed to evade the worst of these events: eating of chocolate covered insects and getting locked into the Bronx Zoo in the middle of the night, during our Scavenger Hunt.

Finally, I hang up the phone, walk into the room where Barry is still reclining on the floor, and try to make myself scarce in the eyes of the Brothers. They, in their benevolence, allow Barry to sit up and wipe the brown glop from his face. Standing in the back of the group, I’m waiting for the announcement of the next activity from the Pledge Master. He speaks and his words are music to my ears. “Welcome, you are now Brothers of ZBT.”

Note: I think our Pledge-Master was Carl Hammerschlag, but I’m not sure. Any of you who remember, let me know.

Marty Phillips