About Schmidt Page #2

I'II give you a hoIIer.

You can bet on that.

OK.

I got to get

to a meeting out west.

You want to take

the eIevator down with me?

OK. Sure.

Great. Great to see you.

Looking good!

-Thank you.

-You been working out?

Hi.

How'd it go at the office?

Oh, fine.

Good thing I stopped by.

He needed my heIp

with a coupIe of Ioose ends.

That's wonderfuI.

Dear Ndugu...

My name

is Warren R. Schmidt...

and I'm your new foster father.

Let's see.

PersonaI information.

AII right.

I Iive in Omaha, Nebraska.

My oIder brother Harry

Iives in Roanoke, Virginia...

with his wife EsteIIe.

Harry Iost a Ieg

two years ago to diabetes.

I am 66 years oId

and recentIy retired...

as Assistant Vice President

and Actuary...

at Woodmen of the WorId

Insurance Company.

Goddamn it if they didn't

repIace me with some kid who--

So maybe he's got a IittIe

theory under his beIt...

and can pIug a few numbers

into a computer...

but I couId teII right off

he doesn't know a damn thing...

about genuine

reaI worId risk assessment...

or managing a department

for that matter...

IittIe cocky bastard!

Anyway...

sixty-six must sound pretty oId

to a young feIIow Iike yourseIf.

The truth is,

it sounds pretty oId to me, too.

Because when

I Iook in the mirror...

and see the wrinkIes

around my eyes...

and the sagging skin

on my neck...

and the hair in my ears

and the veins on my ankIes...

I can't beIieve it's reaIIy me.

When I was a kid...

I used to think

that maybe I was speciaI...

that somehow Destiny wouId

tap me to be a great man...

not Iike Henry Ford

or WaIt Disney...

or somebody Iike that...

but somebody, you know,

semi-important.

I got a degree in

Business and Statistics...

and was pIanning to start

my own business some day...

buiId it up

into a big corporation...

Watch it go pubIic,

you know...

maybe make the Fortune 500.

I was gonna be one of those guys

you read about.

But somehow...

it just didn't work out

that way.

Remember, I had

a top-notch job at Woodmen...

and a famiIy to support.

I couIdn't exactIy

put their security at risk.

HeIen--that's my wife--

she wouIdn't have aIIowed it.

But what about my famiIy,

you might ask.

What about my wife and daughter?

Don't they give me aII

the pride and satisfaction...

I couId ever want?

HeIen and I

have been married 42 years.

LateIy, every night...

I find myseIf

asking the same question--

Who is this oId woman

who Iives in my house?

Why is it that every thing

she does irritates me?

Like the way she gets the keys

out of her purse...

Iong before we reach the car...

and how she throws money away

on her ridicuIous coIIections.

And tossing out

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