As a freelance marketing and sales copywriter, I’ve written copy for some of America’s biggest-name direct marketers, including: Agora, Rodale, Lombardi, Haband, HouseValues, Kate Somerville, Zacks, NewsMax, Martin Weiss, Prosper Corp, Dr. Al Sears, RegOnline, Russ Dalbey, CDMG and KCI.
Industries and markets I’ve written for include: information-publishing, investment, health, self-improvement, real estate, retail, e-commerce, computer software, and business opportunity, to name just a few.
And my articles are published regularly in Marketing Profs, ManageSmarter, Copyblogger, Talent Zoo, Cincom, Melissa Data and many other trade and industry publications.
Now for the REAL story…
If you’re thinking about hiring me, you need to know a bit more about me … beyond the words I’ve written for others.
We begin with my father, Charles Densa, nee Chaim Dzienciarski, born June 21st, 1908, in Radomsk, Poland, died March 3rd, 2003, at the age of 94, in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.
At the onset of World War II my father was living in Paris.
When France fell to the Nazis he joined the French Underground and spied on the German General Staff in a hotel where he had been positioned as a waiter.
During his “off hours,” he doubled as a hit-man – an executioner, an assassin – until one night … on his way home, an “associate” stopped him on the street, and warned him that the Gestapo were observed knocking on doors in his apartment building; apparently they were looking for him.
He left Paris that night.
Escaping on-foot across the Pyrenees Mountains with nothing more than the shirt on his back, he promptly landed in a Spanish prison.
And there he sat, until he was “volunteered” for the French Foreign Legion (I’ve got great pictures of him and his horse, Hector, in the North African Desert.)
When the Allies invaded Italy he fought with the Free French forces attached to U.S. General Mark Clark’s Fifth Army (I’ve got pictures of that, too.)
His military exploits earned him a dozen medals and commendations. And for risking his life – running through a hail of German machine gun fire to save the life of a wounded Arab soldier under his command – he received the Croix de Guerre (the French version of our Congressional Medal of Honor).
He was also court-martialed and jailed with impressive regularity for conduct uniquely and defiantly his own.
Eventually, I’ll write a novel based on his life (actually, I’ve already begun).
My Mother, Edith Densa, nee Edith Abrams, born in the Bronx, New York, February 22, 1915, died February 21, 2007 in Newbury Park, California, at the age of 92.
She was forever complaining about, among other things, anti-Semitic conspiracies, Republican conspiracies, and how cold Florida is (sheesh!).
Her life may have been less adventurous and thrilling than my father’s, but it’s certainly no less loved or dear, or odd.
As for me …
I once had aspirations to be an actor.
I attended the High School Of Performing Arts (remember the TV show and movie Fame?).
After graduating, I majored in theater at Carnegie-Mellon University – until it dawned on both the faculty and myself (though I’m not sure who arrived at the conclusion first) that Carnegie wasn’t where I belonged (being that I was found more often in the girl’s dormitory than in class).
So I drove a taxi in Manhattan while trying to break into showbiz.
The City College of New York and a B.A. in Political Science (and a minor in Pre-Law) came next.
Graduate studies in International Relations at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem followed, followed by three years on a kibbutz herding cattle, followed by two years as a sergeant in the Golani Brigade of the Israeli Army.
Returning to the U.S., I moved to southern California, worked in construction, rode horses, played polo, and tended bar.
In California I met my wife, Mendy, who wasted no time twisting my arm until I agreed to move to Maui with her … where I again rode horses, played polo and managed the hottest nightclub on the island – Casanova’s.
Seven years later, we left paradise and landed in Florida with our 3-year-old daughter, Kaiya Ariel.
For three years I then worked as a real estate agent. Mendy and I also grew “cut flowers” on five acres of land (everyone said growing cut flowers in the sub-tropical heat of Florida would be impossible – it wasn’t. What was impossible was making a living at it).
Then, for six years I worked as a stockbroker (first with Morgan Stanley, then Merrill Lynch, and a few others) and hated every minute of it. I’m simply not a suit and tie kinda guy.
Besides, I lost more money than I made (remember the tech bust – I certainly do).
Finally, mercifully, I became, as we copywriters are called: a full-time salesman in print.
As for the rest of my story … go back and read between the lines.
Barry A. Densa