A Real Bomb Of A Christmas Gift
It started when I spotted an ad in an Archie McPhee catalog—a close-out sale on Navy practice bombs. Christmas was coming and we thought it’d be an oddball gift idea for clients, friends and others on our list. So we ordered about 90 of them and had them packaged in an authentic shipping crate with a line about picking out Christmas presents.
The trouble started before they even went out. Our office in downtown Springfield was broken into as we were preparing the shipment. I met the police there at three a.m. and in the course of their investigation, they happened upon what they understandably thought was a cache of explosives in our storage area.
“Holy Christ,” one of the officers said. “We’ve got an arms dealer on our hands. We need to alert the FBI.” The sun was coming up by the time I talked my way out of that one.
We finally got them out the door and right off the bat we created a bomb scare at the Wall Street Journal, resulting in a building evacuation for them and another long conversation with law enforcement for me.
Next, the president of Great Barrington Savings Bank removed our Merry Christmas tag, inserted a large ticking alarm clock in the crate and dropped it off at his lawyer’s office. His assistant opened the package and called the bomb squad.
We sent another one to Michael Kennedy. He was a client at the time, running Citizens Energy, and he was married to the daughter of New York Giants legend Frank Gifford. Michael brought it over to Frank and Kathie Lee’s house at Christmas. No bomb squad this time. That one was confiscated by Regis Philbin.
Who would think such a thoughtful gift would create such commotion?
It didn’t end there. When my son Joe was moving out of Brooklyn in 2003, post-9/11 tension and security was still very high in the city. Which was why a pick-up truck with a big blue bomb in the back raised eyebrows at the entrance to the Battery Park Tunnel. After being told to pull the truck to the shoulder, Joe sat there a second waiting for the feds to arrive. Luckily, in true New York fashion, the seen-it-all MTA worker just told him, “Listen, I can’t let you through the tunnel with this thing. You’re going to have to take the bridge.”
Today, the bomb remains a beloved fixture in the homes and offices of some of those who received it. We still hang it proudly in here. But I know if I tried to pull that stunt today, I’d be sent directly to Guantanamo.
Keep your dukes up.