You Can’t Make this S@#T Up!

by Thomas Greco, Publisher

You know that saying “You can’t make this shit up?” Boy, did I live that to the extreme last month. Let me explain…

A few years ago, we were fortunate to apply for the public relations contract for my hometown of Nutley. I really didn’t know what to expect, because the company that had been doing it prior to us did absolutely nothing. I figured, “That sounds like a nice gig.” So I put together a proposal and brought my daughter along with me to make the presentation. At the time, my daughter was a VP of a huge New York public relations firm, so I basically sat back and let her do the talking. Most of the officials knew me really well and realized how much I love our town. I think those two factors – along with the great body of work my staff does on a daily basis – sealed the deal, and we were awarded the contract.

At the time, I had no idea what it would entail. I knew we would certainly do more than their previous firm, but honestly, I didn’t figure on it being that much work. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Last year alone, we covered over 150 events! Several press releases and dozens of conversations with town officials each week, meeting coverage, etc. The account that I thought we could handle with basically myself and a little help from my daughter became way, way more than I imagined. But three years later, we have grown into it, and I think we do a hell of a job. My daughter has backed away, but we have been able to do the job with other family members, staff and interns. 

As I have written many times, I love my town. And I love being responsible for telling the world how great it is. And it’s great working with officials who love the town just as much as I do. But trust me, I would NEVER want their job. These guys spend 40 hours a week doing town business IN ADDITION to their professions. All for an incredible “salary” of around $2,500 per year!

Covering your hometown (and the place you’ve never left) can have its drawbacks. And it can put you in some awkward positions. But nothing could have prepared us for the night of the Christmas tree lighting. 

Every year, our town really does an incredible job with the Christmas tree lighting ceremony. Just picture an old 1940s Bing Crosby movie where what seems like the whole town comes out and everyone is happy and singing along. Snow, Santa, horse and buggy rides, you get the idea. For as far back as I can remember, the Nutley Christmas tree was always located on our high school football field, which is the centerpiece of town. But this year, we changed it up, built a beautiful new plaza in front of the Town Hall and placed the tree right smack in the middle of it. It looked amazing.

It is part of our job to cover the event every year. This year, I got the brilliant idea to use a drone to fly over the town leading to the tree as it was being lit. Now, the Town Hall is right across from our police station, so I sent my son Joe over to the station to set up the drone and fly it from there. (He’s the expert; I have no idea how to work it.) I wasn’t far from him, enjoying my chestnuts roasting on an open fire when I turned back to see some police officers talking to him. I figured it was just a few of his friends on the force or a couple of the officers who knew me, since I do all the police public relations as well. I turned back to watch the Mayor start his speech when my wife grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. 

Joe was being brought into the station in handcuffs. WTF?

I ran over to the cops and said, “Whoa, guys, what’s going on?” 

“Stay back, Tom. We just want to ask him some questions.”

“Are you f#%ing kidding me? He’s shooting a video for the town.”

As they took him into the station, one of my friends on the job said, “You’ve been reading about those drones all over the state, right?”

“Get the f#$k out of here. He’s shooting the tree…”

“Calm down. We just have to ask him a few questions.”

I turned away and went searching through the crowd for the police commissioner. When I found him, he had the same reaction I did: “WTF?”

I followed him into the station and as I waited, he came out and said, “I can’t do anything right now. It’s a state thing. They have to question him. It shouldn’t be long.”

About 10 minutes later, a detective friend of mine came out and told me that the Governor has issued a mandate that anyone flying drones without a permit would be arrested. Now, I was losing my mind. 

“How long is he going to be here?” I raged. 

“It’s Sunday night. He’ll have to go before the judge tomorrow morning.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said. Our town judge happens to be one of my oldest friends. 

“Alan, can you come down to the police station?” I explained what had happened to Joe. His answer almost made me faint. 

“Tom, you know I’m your lawyer, right?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“So, I can’t preside over this. It’s a conflict of interest. He has to go to county court in Newark.”

‘NEWARK???” 

This time, I actually did faint.

 

When I woke up in a cold sweat, Joe was standing over me. “Come on, Dad. We’re going to be late for the tree lighting.”

You can’t make this shit up?

Sure you can.

BTW: Everyone LOVED the drone footage.

Want more? Check out the February 2025 issue of New Jersey Automotive!