So Hearst magazine president Cat hie Black, when did she hear she’d become our new Joel Klein, our new NYC schools chancellor?
“Couple of weeks ago on a
Monday the mayor called,” she told me. “We know each other a long time. I didn’t know what he wanted. He only told me this was a personal call and he wanted to meet. I couldn’t exactly say, ‘Sorry, Mr. Mayor, but I’m busy,’ but the fact is I had back-to-back meetings at Hearst, so I said I couldn’t today but could tomorrow.’
“He said, ‘How’s 7 a.m. tomorrow?’ I said, ‘Fine.’ We met in his foundation offices. The offer came out of left field, and my stomach did a flip-flop. The opportunity made me feel fantastic. It’s a great thing when, at a certain stage in life, you can be able to deal up . . . not down.”
Her husband, how did he take the news?
“Listen, Tom‘s an attorney and decorated Vietnam officer. Purple Heart. He knows what all this means, and he was very supportive.
“I’ve already had an hour-and-a-half meeting with Joel Klein. He and I may be different people, but with eight deputies in the department, I’ll get up to speed quickly. I’ve had hundreds of e-mails. So many, so fast that I can’t get to answer them.
“I’m not nervous at all. I’m only sorry my parents aren’t alive to share this.”
COMEDIAN Pat Cooper‘s autobio, with Jerry Lewis‘ foreword, credits his first showbiz break, at Loew’s State in Brooklyn, to my husband, Joey Adams. Pat signs “How Dare You Say How Dare Me” Tuesday, 7 p.m., Columbus Circle’s Borders . . . Same night Steve Schirripa of “The Sopranos” decorates Henri Bendel’s to launch some literary thing on de-stressing the holidays. Steve Schirippa at Henri Bendel’s?
MORE. Thom Filicia of “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” is promot ing a book on PayPal’s Cashless Utopia, whatever that is . . . And at Gusto’s, Seinfeld daughter Sascha‘s 10th birthday party, guests got no book, but podiatrist Dr. Suzanne Levine‘s toenail softeners.
COMING soon (Nov. 22) is HBO’s doc “Public Speaking,” which Martin Scorsese directed, which Vanity Fair commandant Graydon Carter produced, which weaves Fran Le bowitz‘s monologues on life with archival footage and which she says is “because I like to talk.”
About her own life: “I’m from Morristown, NJ. My father was an upholsterer. When I was young I went out every night. Now only a couple of nights. I live in New York with 8,500 books and no plants, no dogs. Flowers are dead. I want no responsibilities. I am not in charge of keeping anything alive.
“I am superficial and lazy. I have two unfinished books because I am a general sloth. I do speaking engagements.”
Her bespoke suits come from Savile Row. “I love clothes. Jackie Rogers is a great designer, but I am not the kind of girl with skirts.” For more Fran, tune in tomorrow.
THE cops have created a war zone around the Regency Hotel. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netan yahu is bedded down there and was eating a big-time NYC breakfast at 8 a.m. yesterday.
RECENTLY The Post reported mob boss Salvatore Vitale, also known as “Good Looking Sal,” had become a government informer, also known as “a rat,” and, despite bad habits like extortion, loan-sharking, book-making, illegal gambling, burglaries, hijacking, racketeering, 11 murders, he was headed not for jail, but for the witness protection program.
Sweet Sal meant nothing to me until a very close friend shared a memory:
“In 1988, working downtown brought me into contact with a night delivery foreman. We became pals.
“Bobby Perino was a major presence. Charming. Short, stocky, good-looking, quiet and intense. Very street-smart. Trolling around, he pointed out another guy with: ‘Johnny runs the numbers business in this area. His father, mob boss John O’Connor, got shot in the ass by John Gotti.’
“Bobby took me on night deliveries. Long hours with rough guys. One day I got a handwritten interoffice letter on yellow lined paper. Two full pages. An anonymous whistleblower informing me a big drug business was going on in the dark hours nearby. Buying and selling stuff right behind us. Horrified, I said, ‘Bobby, you know about this?’
“His not-kidding answer was: ‘If you want somebody hurt, just give me names.’
“I didn’t tell Bobby the whistleblower had named names for fear they’d be killed. I told him I didn’t know who they were.
“I realized I was working in a mob haven. Guys around me were in the Bonanno crime family. Then Bobby went missing on his way to work. He never showed up. I never knew what happened to him.”
She now knows. Whacked by members of Operation Bonanno, his remains had been moved by the mob twice. And how does she know? Because Salvatore Vitale confessed to the feds he had ordered Bobby’s murder.
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.