As far back as I can remember, I’ve been drawn to Mondrian’s Cubist works. They satisfy my inner-O.C.D. artistic needs for geometry, simplicity and angularity.
A bushel of Apples
I have Apple computers starting from the 1980s that I just can’t throw out. They’re industrial-design genius inventions. Apple gave the New York City schools tons of computers back then. My dad was a New York City teacher, and when one broke he took it home and fixed it, or I did. Apple didn’t want them back. I used Macs in high school and college. One may be worth a couple thousand, but I’d never sell it.
Last year we rang the opening bell at the New York Stock Exchange. I use Matthew Zachary as my business name, but for security reasons, I had to use my legal surname, Greenzweig, to get into the building, which is why it appears on the engraved collectible they gave me. I noticed the Stock Exchange staff had Greenzweig for the chyron that appears on the TV screen, so I had to catch them beforehand and have them change it to Zachary.
Our public relations team gave me the beer can, which is from an English brewery with the same name as our yearly gala. We named our annual fund-raiser Toast to salute our community and our impact.
I have an external monitor that mirrors my laptop screen, and I use an old Galaxy tablet for the time and the weather. You could say I’m the IT director here. I’ve been coding since I was a kid. I minored in computer science and was an Apple-certified engineer in college.
Creature of habit
I drink only water, Starbucks coffee, and when I’m sick, mint tea. For lunch, I either walk to Starbucks or the deli downstairs to get something and eat at my desk.
Mini medical professional
In the early 2000s, Genentech invited me to attend a hematology conference and play the grand piano at their trade booth. I performed for attendees on the trade show floor.
The company also gave out copies of my CD and squishy doctor toys. Mine is next to a couple of models of the brain. After my experience with cancer, every time I see a model of a brain, I buy it. When I was sick, my mother’s friend gave me a yardstick that’s inscribed, “Yard by yard, life is hard, inch by inch it’s a cinch.” It was apropos at the time.
The fliers atop the piano, which I designed myself, are from four cabaret shows, or concerts, I gave after college. The concerts were my way of rehabilitating myself and getting back into what I was passionate about. I emailed them to a bunch of people and they also served as signage and programs at the events. I stopped playing in 2002 because I was so busy.
Oldie but goody
As a consummate 1980s kid, I still think the Transformers are the coolest thing in the universe. When my 7-year-old son was 2, I tried to introduce him to a Playskool Mr. Potato Head takeoff of the Optimus Prime Transformer, but it didn’t work. He tried to eat it. I bought a replacement but decided to keep it myself.
I have four or five Transformers in the office. I never had a man cave at home, so this place is perfect for displaying all the things my wife has asked me to get rid of.
In the limelight
Newsweek contacted me early in 2017 and said they were doing a special issue on disruption in health care and wanted to include me. I thought it would be an inside article, I didn’t realize I’d be on the cover as an angry rebel. I’m a cover model.
The photo of my friend Adam Price and me on a mountain peak is the most important from my cancer experience. He was the person who held my head over the toilet bowl when I was sick. I had finished radiation and was told that without chemo, I was risking my odds of survival. While all my friends were leaving for grad school, he and I flew to Las Vegas, rented a car, and drove around the Southwest before there was a GPS or Google Maps. We ended up in the Grand Canyon and had someone take our picture on a crazy precipice. We had to jump through space to get to it. It was a bucket list item before there were bucket lists.