My friend Donald is president again but Ill always remember his start

We breathe.We live.

We have friends.We lose friends.

We have fights.Life goes on.You may not like my memory — but I feel the need to say this:Donald is my friend — 50ish years plus — longer than many of you are alive.I was nobody.

A model, a young bride to comedian Joey Adams who — like Ronald Reagan handled movie actors on the West Coast — was president of all the singers, dancers, variety performers on this East Coast.Joey, political, emceed every VIP black-tie dinner at the Waldorf.A senator became president, Joey was at the mike.

A prelate became a bishop, Joey commanded the speakers.For A-1 placement on a dais Roy Cohn had long back cultivated Joey.

I meant nothing.I was just along.At one Roy party I met young Donald.

A smart kid fresh out of Wharton.I said to him, “So who are you?” Standing behind him Roy answered: “One day this kid is going to own New York.”Decades later — 2016, and Roy long gone — we two stood all alone — Donald and I in the middle of a crowded room.Silently we stared at half a dozen wall-size TVs.

All predicting Donald Trump winner of the presidency of the United States.I have told this story before.

I retell it now for a reason.The family stood behind a wooden gate.Behind them, his team.

Donald standing alone.Middle of the room.

Nobody.Between our bodies and the wall TV — nobody — just Chris Christie and Rudy Giuliani.Not one person with or near Donald.

Nobody.Only me.

Our bodies cemented to one another.He didn’t speak.

I didn’t speak.He said quietly only — only — “Do you remember what Roy Cohn said?” I said, “Yes,” and those were the only words that passed between us the night he first became president of the United States of America.In 50 years, he was there when life fell hard for me.Joey’s illness meant us moving to another apartment.

I’d just lost my mother.And father.

I was alone.And no lawyer, accountant, adviser, financial consultant.Donald brought in his team of c...