It Could Only Happen in New York !

Story genre & theme: A zany comedy about a modern-day Man of La Mancha and his quest for his Holy Grail--A father's love. And, while on his yellow brick road, like Dorothy, he encounters, here and there, some lessons in brotherhood. Well, not exactly like Dorothy's. Our hero, Sol Woody, Junior--a pill-popping, full-blown manic depressive in his early thirties--is CEO of that prestigious Madison Avenue ad agency Isaac, Woody, Coody and Diddy, the lofty post having descended to him by way of his daddy's retirement. Daddy, Sol Senior, learned his art of selling on New York's Lower East Side, where the litmus-test of a salesman was steering a customer from his needs to his dreams, and if it just happened to be an item from the store's overbought stock, where commissions were double, well, so much the sweeter. It was there, on Delancy Street, that Senior learned that fateful unwritten rule, strictly adhered to: Sunday sales--and sometimes Monday's, too--are off the books, and on the QT from you know who. The price, now being paid for old sins, is Senior carting around haunting guilt taking the form of hang-ups--one being an over-sensitivity to the taunting tongue of his dead wife, Rebecca; another being, a sense that the IRS has hired God to get him; but the heaviest sack of potatoes is--'Rebecca, tell me true, is this meshuggenah really my kid!'The meshuggenah kid--son Junior--as mentioned, an AC (alternating current) personality, out to prove himself worthy of job and father, and though high-minded, flawed--beyond his tics--with a tad of impulsiveness that, instead, brings down the firm, wastes to a watery grave an array of sea and air crafts, defiles an American institution, embarrasses New York City, triggers a police-race riot, and, with the help of God, gets his sole brothers in the Bronx, to decimate Central Park. But in the end, in the aftermath of all this havoc, he manages to pull a rabbit, for he gets the girl, a father's admiration, a step toward brotherhood, ev