Scott Binsack Was A Complicated Man
Understanding Scott is a bit like the four blind men trying to figure out an elephant. Part entrepreneur, part P. T. Barnum, Scott lived by his wits even if you couldn’t understand those wits. He was such an imposing presence that you didn’t know he was ill, but Scott knew. Scott knew the clock was ticking, and whatever he had to do he had to do it today because tomorrow didn’t belong to him.
I came upon him years ago. I must say that I was profoundly impressed. He made long videos about America. Whatever you may think of Scott Binsack he was a patriot. And he wasn’t a keyboard commando. He’d march on Washington at the drop of a hat. Twenty thousand or just twenty, he’d March For America!
We fell apart. A group of women took it upon themselves to micro-analyze his methods. Methods that were far above them. If Scott bought a burger they traced the money. I fell in with them, but the more I looked at their methods the more I saw more jealousy than substance. And the more I was glad they never investigated my real estate deals. I’ve said all real estate brokers are shady. If you will note, I didn’t exclude myself.
As his health declined he reached farther and farther. He dreamed big. He just couldn’t explain his dreams. That having been said, last night I was inundated with calls and messages. From New York to L.A. Scott Binsack had died! What did I think? What would I write? Was he really gone? They all wanted to know my thoughts about Scott Binsack.
I admired him. During our little debate he poked fun of my name. WIIIIIIIBUR! In his best “Mr. Ed voice. People like those ladies attacking his flank thought I should be offended. I thought it was cooler than dry ice! I changed my profile picture on Facebook to a picture of Mr. Ed, and ran with it.
You see, you just can’t hate everyone. If it’s funny, it’s funny. After that we lost track of each other. He began to work his way from New Jersey to Las Vegas. On the way he tried to sell the state of Kansas. Hey, Jim Bowie sold Arkansas THREE TIMES! Tried to sell Santa Anna San Antonio, but El Presidenté didn’t have a co-signer. You cannot judge a real estate deal. A real estate deal judges YOU!
Once in Vegas Binsack began to put together a news service. We communicated. He asked if I could remove some articles I’d written about him. I took down what I could. He asked if I could send him copy. I agreed to supply him with material. He said he’d pay. I told him one martini in Vegas was all that was required. He replied, “Or Two, or six.”
The deal never came to be. The clock was ticking. I noticed he dropped off of LinkedIn, our method of communication. I didn’t think much of it. Then, last night, I learned Scott Binsack had passed away. I’m not going to lie to you. I was profoundly affected. I really thought he’d pull off the March For America News Channel. But it still exists. My offer is still good. And the rate remains the same. Scott Binsack sealed the deal. A martini. . . or two, or six. In good times and bad I should say that I was proud to have known Scott Binsack.
Bill the Butcher