Donald Silverman was born on the right side of the tracks in the wrong century. He was a square peg in a round hole at school. He hated sports, dress up clothes and girls (until he was of a “certain age”). From age 11 to 17 he delivered newspapers in hurricanes, served as a boardwalk “barker” at a boardwalk’s electronic bingo game and drove a dry cleaner’s ill-repaired 1947 delivery truck.
High school was a blur (except for that hot English teacher). And college was much of the same. So he got himself drafted. It was Vietnam War time. But somehow he was fated to guard Cleveland’s shores from imminent Canadian attack. Once free from the grip of Uncle Sam, his mother asked him, “So...what do you want to do with your life now?” And he replied, “I dunno...maybe something in the media business.”
Mom waved her magic wand and off he went to work at a Long Island radio station filing weather and traffic reports.
It was a natural leap towards filmmaking and a 30-year career producing TV spots and marketing/PR films. He produced projects promoting Howard Stern, heart disease, and fancy schmancy hotels, all the way to transporting spent nuclear waste.
And then he retired.
After six months of eating cheese and watching TV he decided to pick up a paint brush. It’s been a love affair ever since