Alopecia World
www.alopeciaworld.com
Richard Rosenbaum: Lawyer, former judge, boxer, author
By Thomas Adcock
New York Law Journal
September 26, 2008
Richard M. Rosenbaum is a bald boxer who once took on Floyd Patterson, a former judge who ran for governor and an activist who yearns for "fun" in politics.
-----------------
You are a former New York Supreme Court justice and now a judicial hearing officer as well as senior counsel in the Rochester, N.Y., office of Nixon Peabody. You were chairman of the state Republican Party during the years of the late Gov. Nelson A. Rockefeller and ran for governor yourself in 1994, losing to George E. Pataki in the GOP primary.
You've just published a memoir chock full of stories about your political life, many of them quite funny. For example?
Well, now, how about the Sunday before the presidential election of 1976 -- the incumbent, Gerald R. Ford, versus Jimmy Carter. I was Republican chairman, and we had a campaign event up in Rochester, where I live.
My mother was there, by the way. She's still with us, and she still calls me Dickie. I'm 77 years old, for God's sake! She's 98, and she's got a live-in boyfriend.
Anyhow, I'm having a good time since I flew in on Air Force One with the president. When we get to Rochester, I go through my little spiel as chairman, then I make the introduction.
"Ladies and gentlemen," I said, "I give you the president of the United States -- Gerald R. Fraud."
Oy, if only I could have dropped through a hole in the ground!
What's your story about former President George H.W. Bush?
Back in the 1960s, Papa Bush was a pro-choice Congressman. He changed his tune, though. But back in the day we had a nickname for him: Rubbers.
I'm a compulsive storyteller, see. Say, now -- let me tell you about the [Republican national] convention of '76, when our New York delegation, a bunch of us Rockefeller Republicans, were surrounded by delegations from Texas and Utah and North Carolina who were all for [Ronald] Reagan. They kept shouting, "Ole, ole!" whenever Reagan's name was mentioned. The New Yorkers kept shouting, "Oy vey, oy vey!" But the Texans and all, they don't know from "Oy vey."
Your book's title is "No Room for Democracy: The Triumph of Ego Over Common Sense
." What does that mean?
In government, you should have democracy. But in politics, there's no room for democracy. When I was state chairman, I was the iron chancellor of the GOP.
Why so authoritarian?
In my day, the candidates didn't raise their own funds. The party raised the money and parceled it out. Now it's every man for himself.
Your book recounts a childhood in upstate Oswego as the only Jewish kid in your class, not to mention being completely hairless due to the rare disease alopecia. How did you survive?
I had an advantage: size. I was 6'2" by the time I was 13. As I wrote in the book:
Often as I walked to and from school, I had to endure name-calling -- "Kike!" "Dirty Jew!" -- and sometimes I'd be attacked by kids who would jump me. One Polish kid in particular ... was always calling me names and punching me, an approach that only taught me to be more aggressive. By the time I was in seventh grade, I finally corked the kid on the nose; he never came near me again.
Thus you became a pugilist and, eventually, a member the boxing team at Hobart College. What about your biggest amateur bout in the cause of a Republican fundraising event, the exhibition match in 1975 in Rochester against former world heavyweight champion Floyd Patterson?
Afterwards, I gave myself a new name -- Picasso. Why? Because I was always on the canvas. As I wrote:
Floyd came out of his corner like a shot and landed some body punches that sent me almost immediately to the canvas. This wasn't the kind of plodding old heavyweight I'd hoped to meet. ... In the second round, Floyd pummeled me into the ropes, but I managed to get in a few shots under the ribs. At that point, and with about 20 seconds to go, Floyd decided he wasn't going to take any more guff from this rank amateur. He uncorked a left hook that caught me flush in my right eye ... I was seeing double and bleeding into my mouth. The referee ... came over to my corner and held up two fingers and said, "How many?" When I answered, "Four," the show was over.
And after the show?
Floyd came to my dressing room and said he really felt bad about the blood. Joe Frazier [also a world heavyweight champion] was there, and he came around, too, and said, "I see that you're very crestfallen. Don't worry, you were just tired."
Those guys are great. Killers in the ring, but outside they're very gentle.
What are you doing now at Nixon Peabody?
I'm a rainmaker. Strangely enough, I still have a following. When I bring in business, I get some money -- which I like. Also I'm a mentor -- and, as a retired judge, sort of a firm ornament.
You've further described yourself as "just an apple-knocker from Oswego." So what was it like when you first met "Rocky," the late governor and vice president under Gerald Ford, at the 8,000-acre Rockfeller family estate in Potantico Hills?
I'm more scared of my wife than I was of Nelson Rockefeller. Talk about opposites attract! My wife, Judith, she hates politics. She's quiet and intellectual. I'm dumb and outgoing.
Anyhow, when Rocky asked for my help I said I'd do it but that I wasn't going to be some errand boy. That was OK by him. I loved the guy. I miss him to this day.
In many ways, as you've said, political life was more civil in the 1970s. Why?
Because we all had fun -- the politicians and the reporters. I believe in having fun. It shouldn't matter that much whether you're a Democrat or a Republican. We should work together. But today it's very acrimonious. This makes it very difficult to work out compromise.
How would you advise young lawyers entering today's politics?
If you think you'll get by because you smile and you're popular, forget it. Work hard, be reasonable, don't compromise on issues that define you as a person.
Being a lawyer in a law firm is enormously important. It's an anchor to windward -- something to fall back on. If you're going to leave to do something risky and gutsy like politics, you better have a good excuse because political work is serious business.
A lawyer can do a lot of things besides practice law. I tell young lawyers not to stay in practice forever.
What's your forecast for this presidential election?
I'm an optimist. People will come to their senses and get along.
SOURCE: Law.com
New York Law Journal
September 26, 2008
Richard M. Rosenbaum is a bald boxer who once took on Floyd Patterson, a former judge who ran for governor and an activist who yearns for "fun" in politics.
You've just published a memoir chock full of stories about your political life, many of them quite funny. For example?
Well, now, how about the Sunday before the presidential election of 1976 -- the incumbent, Gerald R. Ford, versus Jimmy Carter. I was Republican chairman, and we had a campaign event up in Rochester, where I live.
My mother was there, by the way. She's still with us, and she still calls me Dickie. I'm 77 years old, for God's sake! She's 98, and she's got a live-in boyfriend.
Anyhow, I'm having a good time since I flew in on Air Force One with the president. When we get to Rochester, I go through my little spiel as chairman, then I make the introduction.
"Ladies and gentlemen," I said, "I give you the president of the United States -- Gerald R. Fraud."
Oy, if only I could have dropped through a hole in the ground!
What's your story about former President George H.W. Bush?
Back in the 1960s, Papa Bush was a pro-choice Congressman. He changed his tune, though. But back in the day we had a nickname for him: Rubbers.
I'm a compulsive storyteller, see. Say, now -- let me tell you about the [Republican national] convention of '76, when our New York delegation, a bunch of us Rockefeller Republicans, were surrounded by delegations from Texas and Utah and North Carolina who were all for [Ronald] Reagan. They kept shouting, "Ole, ole!" whenever Reagan's name was mentioned. The New Yorkers kept shouting, "Oy vey, oy vey!" But the Texans and all, they don't know from "Oy vey."
Your book's title is "No Room for Democracy: The Triumph of Ego Over Common Sense
." What does that mean?In government, you should have democracy. But in politics, there's no room for democracy. When I was state chairman, I was the iron chancellor of the GOP.
Why so authoritarian?
In my day, the candidates didn't raise their own funds. The party raised the money and parceled it out. Now it's every man for himself.
Your book recounts a childhood in upstate Oswego as the only Jewish kid in your class, not to mention being completely hairless due to the rare disease alopecia. How did you survive?
I had an advantage: size. I was 6'2" by the time I was 13. As I wrote in the book:
Often as I walked to and from school, I had to endure name-calling -- "Kike!" "Dirty Jew!" -- and sometimes I'd be attacked by kids who would jump me. One Polish kid in particular ... was always calling me names and punching me, an approach that only taught me to be more aggressive. By the time I was in seventh grade, I finally corked the kid on the nose; he never came near me again.
Thus you became a pugilist and, eventually, a member the boxing team at Hobart College. What about your biggest amateur bout in the cause of a Republican fundraising event, the exhibition match in 1975 in Rochester against former world heavyweight champion Floyd Patterson?
Afterwards, I gave myself a new name -- Picasso. Why? Because I was always on the canvas. As I wrote:
Floyd came out of his corner like a shot and landed some body punches that sent me almost immediately to the canvas. This wasn't the kind of plodding old heavyweight I'd hoped to meet. ... In the second round, Floyd pummeled me into the ropes, but I managed to get in a few shots under the ribs. At that point, and with about 20 seconds to go, Floyd decided he wasn't going to take any more guff from this rank amateur. He uncorked a left hook that caught me flush in my right eye ... I was seeing double and bleeding into my mouth. The referee ... came over to my corner and held up two fingers and said, "How many?" When I answered, "Four," the show was over.
And after the show?
Floyd came to my dressing room and said he really felt bad about the blood. Joe Frazier [also a world heavyweight champion] was there, and he came around, too, and said, "I see that you're very crestfallen. Don't worry, you were just tired."
Those guys are great. Killers in the ring, but outside they're very gentle.
What are you doing now at Nixon Peabody?
I'm a rainmaker. Strangely enough, I still have a following. When I bring in business, I get some money -- which I like. Also I'm a mentor -- and, as a retired judge, sort of a firm ornament.
You've further described yourself as "just an apple-knocker from Oswego." So what was it like when you first met "Rocky," the late governor and vice president under Gerald Ford, at the 8,000-acre Rockfeller family estate in Potantico Hills?
I'm more scared of my wife than I was of Nelson Rockefeller. Talk about opposites attract! My wife, Judith, she hates politics. She's quiet and intellectual. I'm dumb and outgoing.
Anyhow, when Rocky asked for my help I said I'd do it but that I wasn't going to be some errand boy. That was OK by him. I loved the guy. I miss him to this day.
In many ways, as you've said, political life was more civil in the 1970s. Why?
Because we all had fun -- the politicians and the reporters. I believe in having fun. It shouldn't matter that much whether you're a Democrat or a Republican. We should work together. But today it's very acrimonious. This makes it very difficult to work out compromise.
How would you advise young lawyers entering today's politics?
If you think you'll get by because you smile and you're popular, forget it. Work hard, be reasonable, don't compromise on issues that define you as a person.
Being a lawyer in a law firm is enormously important. It's an anchor to windward -- something to fall back on. If you're going to leave to do something risky and gutsy like politics, you better have a good excuse because political work is serious business.
A lawyer can do a lot of things besides practice law. I tell young lawyers not to stay in practice forever.
What's your forecast for this presidential election?
I'm an optimist. People will come to their senses and get along.
SOURCE: Law.com
© 2024 Created by Alopecia World.
Powered by
