So for once in my life, let me get what I want.
Lord knows, it would be the first time.
These are the words I muttered to myself, while on a Sausage sourcing trip to Manchester, England, way back in early 1963. My late father had yet to meet with his untimely accident, and I was not yet anointed as The Sausage King of Chicago.
I’d just visited yet another English sausage factory, having spent the afternoon fondling mediocre sausage, and was feeling kind of low.
Those are some of the memorable lines from lady-voiced crooner, Wayne Newton’s version of Danke Schoen.
The original lyrics to this song were penned by yours truly back in 1961. The setting for the song was not Central Park, but of course Lincoln Park.
The words describe how I first met Mrs Froman, over the family sausage counter, and how I later got rather drunk in the park on some cheap sparkling wine and somewhat disgraced myself.
Our latest piece of market research is in folks, and it makes pretty good reading. Under my inspiring stewardship the consumer popularity of Froman Inc and our Sausage King of Chicago brand has soared from a lowly 19% in 1963 to an incredible 39% now!
Stick that sausage in your pipes and puff on it, Froman haters! Do you like sausages? How do you like them sausages?
So, all you confused folks out there who might be stealing my name, like Ferris Bueller, it’s time to wrap this up: we’re getting 20 percent cooler.
And that’s official.
Let me tell you a story. Back in the summer of ’69 I was on a business trip to New York, meeting with some of my sausage suppliers and Froman Inc associates. Practically everyone was talking about this place that was serving great schnitzel. Now I love good schnitzel as much as anyone, so Mrs Froman and I decided to check it out. It was called Luchow’s, I believe.
So it’s a nice old German joint, very traditional, and we’d enjoyed our appetizers, but we’re waiting a LONG time for our entrees to arrive.
While we’re waiting, this big group of arty characters come in amid a great hullabaloo and take up 2 or 3 tables. The waiting staff were really fawning over these guys, and my legendary patience was starting to wear a little thin. Then, what do I see? Only their tables getting schnitzel before we get our schnitzel. We’d been schnitzel gazumped!
As you may know, former refrigeration magnate, Morris Frye and I have been friends for many years.
Even if you did know this, you probably didn’t know what terrible fashion sense he has. His fashion faux pas are not quite as legendary as, for example, my generosity and humility.
But, even if you did know those things, you almost certainly wouldn’t know how a throwaway comment that I once made to him ended up in a famous Hollywood movie.