Murray Slepp and I go back a long way. He lived around the corner from me on Amboy Street, when we were growing up. His sister Mildred and I were an item when she was six and I was five, according to the local gossips. By the time she was seven, we couldn’t stand each other. It’s funny what some people think is cute.
Murray will be sixty three on August 1st. At Stevieslaw, we will be throwing him a big bash. On August 3rd, Murray will be the guy at Treasury who decides who gets paid and who gets stiffed should the government default.
Expecting a check? Send Murray Slepp a birthday card. He likes the ones that play a song when you open them and he has always been partial to Sinatra. We are not saying that Murray can help or that he is your last, best hope, but send him a card—make sure your address and social security number are clearly written on the envelope. How could it hurt?