1961 and the living it is easy, and the hamburgers are greasy. Weston’s Hamburger joint is king of the road, that road being Hempstead Turnpike in Levittown Long Island. McDonalds has not yet opened their burger joint down the turnpike from Weston’s, and even when it does Weston’s still is the place to be. A few of my Island Trees High School buddies (the usual suspects) and I are Weston’s part time employees. The school is a ketchup fight and toss away. Our friends and classmates are Weston’s aficionados, because the burgers are great and the price is more than reasonable, meaning that when the Weston’s logo sign said buy a bagful we student employees took that to mean give a bagful! Fifteen cents a burger for regular customers and fifteen cents a bagful of burgers for Island Trees students honor roll or not!
I like to think that we helped many students finance their basic education. Our burger reputation in school was such that before you could get the “full bag discount” you to be on our guest list. This long before Steve Rubell and Studio 54 made being on the guest list an art form and status symbol.
Errol Wetson the son of the founder of Weston’s is a few years older than his High School clients and employee’s and tools around town in his new black XKE jaguar, which coordinates with his thick jet black hair and movie star appearance and attitude. We ITHS student’s cruise Hempstead Turnpike in our very used and souped up (I believe the vernacular these days is pimped up) Chevys and Fords if we drive at all, we also have plenty of attitude but it is quite different than Errol’s. Somehow we justify our burger giveaway because of this difference in transportation, looks and lifestyle modes. Our nickname for Errol is: “Sterile Errol” only because pathetically that is the best we could do at mixing our envy, and our basic rhyme poetry with our base humor, think scoundrels not scholars. We do not know Errol; he is way out of our league. He is so up turnpike so to speak.
Summertime 1979 and the living it is easy, the joint is jumping and the hair is greasy. My high school days are long over and Weston’s Hamburger’s days are over as well. They have sold many but also had given away many, albeit not to their knowledge. I am living in America’s paradise St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands. I own a waterfront Restaurant/Disco called Jelly’s that caters to the Islands elite. One day much to my surprise in walks Errol Wetson. He is vacationing on St. Thomas’s Water Island with his wife Margaux Hemingway. I introduce myself to Errol and explain our common yet very different history to him without fessing up to the special burger giveaway for Island Trees High School students. He becomes a client and friend. His favorite meal is Jelly’s hamburger, the Islands best. 
One sultry Island night Errol and his entourage come in for some burger’s. Errol signed for the meal as he had forgotten his cash in Switzerland, where else could it be? The tab is still on the books as a debit. I chalked it up to karma. What goes around comes around even in the world of chopped meat. Apparently we were kindred souls despite our different backgrounds.
Summertime 1984 and the living it is easy, the joint is jumping and everyone is still high. I am living in Manhattan and operating “Cruises to Nowhere” gambling cruises from the Manhattan’s West Side Port Authority docks and have been invited to the private grand opening party of Isaac Tigrett’s Hard Rock Café on 57th Street. Once again into a restaurant I am at and much to my surprise walks my friend Errol. We greet each other affectionately and do some reminiscing. Doing some quick math, I think it best not to remind Errol that he owes me a few bucks on his tab at Jelly’s or fess up to my youthful indiscretions, as I am way ahead in the give and take of the hamburger world. Way ahead.
Our meeting was serendipitous as the Hard Rock’s famous hamburgers were also free opening night, which I assumed is why both Errol and I had been invited. It was though the owner Isaac somehow sensed our common history with chop meat and knew that although we would not be meatless, charging us would be fruitless, so to speak.
Since then I have pondered the fact that the former students of Island Trees High School in Levittown Long Island possibly changed the course of history in American capitalism and pop culture. In a way we are culpable in the demise of Wetson’s and the rise of McDonald’s. “Fifteen cents for a Wetson's Hamburger” or using the Island Trees High School no discount card necessary program: “fifteen cents for a bag of a baker’s dozen hamburgers”. Do the math; it does not lie, most especially when it is in your favor. Perhaps if we had not instituted the burger giveaway program Wetson’s Hamburger’s and not McDonalds Hamburger’s would be the world’s most famous burger joint. Children would not be laughing at the antics of Ronald McDonald but at the antics of Betsy Wetson. Could be!