According to press reports, Ponzi King Madoff, who can't venture beyond the luxurious confines of his duplex penthouse on East 64th Street just off Park Avenue under the strict terms of his house arrest, has been whining like a badly brought up six-year old of late about not being able to go out to dinner at his favorite neighborhood haunts.
One can only wonder: was the accused swindler really ever a six-year old? If so, did he habitually grab toys from other kids in the playground? And if so, did Mama Madoff, herself once the target of an SEC investigation, ever ground him for unsportsmanlike behavior?
Doesn't the carping house arrestee realize that a Weekend at Bernie's eating takeout from fancy local bistros makes him a lucky stiff compared to those who can't make bail and have to rely on standard issue prison fare at the Manhattan Correctional Center, located downtown on Park Row?
According to information contained in the Encyclopedia of Prisons and Correctional Facilities, inmates in such institutions sit down to dinner at 4:00 p.m. and are given half an hour from entry to exit to consume their meal. And while all prisons are meant to have salad bars offering "heart healthy" versions of the main meal of the day, "the serving line at meals is a constant reminder of the diners' vulnerability and their powerlessness over the daily routine."
In contrast, Bernie Madoff can dine on healthy or calorie and cholesterol-laden salads and entrees, doing so at times of his own choosing. And while his confinement to Apartment 12A is a constant reminder that he can't stroll over to a favored eatery at will, he is neither vulnerable nor powerless to determine his daily housebound routine.
If Bernie is really so sick and tired of local restaurant takeout, however, he should consider the option of incarceration. Perhaps he could pull another jewelry caper and get himself remanded.
Where to? After all, there's the matter of that routine at the Correctional Center--and Park Row isn't exactly Park Avenue.
Having visited several prisons in the course of conducting interviews for our various oral histories, however, we can recommend two, one a Federal prison, the other more like a tropical bed-and-breakfast with bars.
The Federal lockup is the Miami Correctional Institute, where we interviewed convicted Panamanian strongman, Manuel Antonio Noriega, and where his breakfast tray was identical to that served at our luxury hotel nearby, save for the use of plastic tray, dishes, and utensils.
Better still would be the bed and breakfast option, and should Bernie be able to prove that he stashed money offshore, he might qualify for incarceration, just hours away by air on the Caribbean nation of Grenada. There he would be ensconsed in a prison with a view, housed in the island's botanical garden atop a hill, where we interviewed a former general convicted of murdering that island nation's prime minister in a coup, and where inmates can barbecue on hibatchis set up in the picturesque institution's courtyard--sort of San Quentin meets Midnight Express.