Reflections on Age and Memory
- Reflections on Age and Memory
You watch her from across the coffee shop. She is young, too young for you, should you suddenly realize you are not 22 anymore…
Photo in the window, flowers in a vase, coffee in a cup.
A sunny morning, cloudy afternoon and stormy evening.
Watch the man and woman on the screen, forever young and full of life. Red roses passed from him to her, forever fresh and bright. Forever in celluloid.
You see her from across the coffee shop, kinda frail and looking worn and tired. She is young, but older than before. So are you but you are still living in a state of disbelief.
The photo in the window has faded, rose stems sag in the vase, petals have fallen onto the floor, a cup of cold forgotten coffee…
A movie on the screen, an “oldie” they say. See the man and woman on the screen dancing slowly, still young and alive. Not yet tossed into the void…watch them live forever, forever young in celluloid.
A shovel of dirt, tears wiped and words spoken. A photo left by the window, a rose left on the gravestone…a life lived is never a life wasted.
- Official Press Release
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE / New York, NY – January 5, 2026 / FREDDY ZALTA RE-RELEASES *OWNED NO MORE: LIFE OF A SALESMAN*
Author Freddy Zalta has re-released the candid and introspective book, *Owned No More: Life of a Salesman*, confronting the hidden realities of a career built on quotas, pressure, and performance. Far from a traditional sales guide, the book offers a deeply personal examination of what happens when ambition slowly turns into obligation—and freedom feels perpetually out of reach.
Drawing from real-life experience, Zalta takes readers behind the scenes of a profession often glamorized for its earning potential and fast-paced wins. He captures the thrill of closing deals and hitting **numbers**.
However, he also exposes the quieter cost: burnout, identity erosion, and the feeling of being owned by the daily **grind**.
In *Owned No More*, success is not measured by commissions alone, but by what is sacrificed along the way.
The book traces a journey familiar to many in high-pressure careers—long hours, relentless expectations, and a growing sense that life is dictated by metrics rather than meaning. Zalta writes with honesty and clarity, acknowledging the pride that comes with achievement while questioning the systems that equate worth with output. His reflections challenge the idea that constant hustle is the same as fulfillment.
Rather than offering formulas or quick fixes, *Owned No More* invites readers into moments of reckoning and clarity. Zalta explores how easily identity becomes tangled with job titles and numbers, and how reclaiming purpose often requires stepping back and asking uncomfortable questions:
* What does success actually look like?
* Who benefits from the grind?
* And at what point does ambition stop serving us?
The book resonates beyond the sales profession, speaking to anyone who has felt trapped by expectations, routines, or definitions of success imposed by others. Whether navigating sales, corporate environments, or entrepreneurial pressure, readers will recognize the tension between financial achievement and personal freedom that Zalta articulates so clearly.
As his third published book, Zalta brings a seasoned storytelling voice shaped by years of writing and reflection, including his novels and four commissioned biographies for private distribution. This depth and narrative discipline is evident in *Owned No More*, which balances vulnerability with insight and avoids both hype and self-help clichés.
***Owned No More*** **is available now.** Get your free Kindle copy here:
**For review copies, interview requests, or additional information, please contact:** fzalta@gmail.com - Once Again…
She stares…at nothing in particular. Focused on thoughts, fears and memories.
He shakes and shouts…at this world gone wrong. Focused on the negativity that can drown a whale.
She drinks her tea, he drinks his coffee.
He sees her from across the room, somehow he is calmed. He walks towards her, throws an embrace and kisses her head.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
“A penny? How about ten dollars a pound?”
“Talk to me.” He says.
Yes the sun rises and sets, same time as each year as far as I can tell. The rain falls, the leaves spring and then the summer passes and the leaves fall to the ground.
Some things don’t change and most likely never will.
But some things seem to get worse with each repeat of history.
When the government creates a police state, and the world ignores the cries for freedom while the cries are silenced by terrorists…
It’s history repeating itself.
When a leader of a country emphasizes hatred and approves murder at his command, and empathy is nowhere to be found…
It’s history repeating itself.
She stares and her eyes moisten as she expresses her fears…
He listens and is silent.
There are no volumes of words to comfort a fear that is too true to be contradicted.
There are no volumes of water to douse the flames when it’s out of control and the sun is feeling vengeful.
Time will tell.
As the time passes, we can hope and pray that He can help douse the fires of hatred and deceit before it all turns to ashes…
Once again
Talk to me… - Love Always
Old man walking slowly, talking to himself, mainly because he is not interested in what anyone else has to say.
He used to bring people together and fight for what was right and demonize all that was wrong.
“It’s simple math,” He would say, “Hatred is wrong and love is right.”
He walks with a slight limp and holds back hiss winces when the pain hits.
He wasn’t always so frail. He once ran the New York City marathon and was rarely still, even changing jobs several times in a decade. A man of impulse, he married twice and often acted without considering the consequences.
Now he walks slowly, staring at the ground to ensure he doesn’t trip or slip on anything. He sits on a bench on Ocean Parkway and watches how the cars pass on by. His eyes gloss over as time walks or runs past him.
“Everyone is always in a rush these days. If only they understood what they are running towards…”
She was a beautiful young lady who had boys clambering after her. She dressed sexily because she loved to watch their jaws drop whenever she came into their view. She danced to no audible music and she sang no song aloud. She had a vibe and rhythm of her own. She loved Rock-‘n’-roll because it made her feel alive.
She married, had children and chose a career in community service. Jerry was her husband and the love of her life. When he passed, a big part of her passed away as well.
These days she walks with the help of a walker with a lady named Bea. The kids come when they can, but everyone runs in circles just as she once did.
“That’s what you want for your children. You want them not to babysit you. Instead, they should live life with all its aches and bruises.”
She used to tell them to always be grateful for gifts that all people take for granted.
“Celebrate life and be grateful. Appreciate the beauty and laughter you can see and hear. Express your gratitude by using your hands to hold and support those in need.
They walk together through Central Park in New York City. He is carrying a brown bag with two cups of coffee. It is late October and the MOMA has nothing on the Artist’s creation which surrounds them.
In New York, during the fall, dark skies and infinite colors of leaves create a striking contrast. The leaves have fallen and spread across the grounds. Children trying to catch the leaves as they float towards the grass. A man playing a guitar, really, singing a James Taylor song about Fire and Rain. She takes his hand and places it on her heart. He weakens and holds her closer to him. The winter will soon be here and you can feel the chill. He places his coat around her shoulders and they sit on a bench. He opens the bag and they drink their coffee watching as the fall takes place. She puts her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes. He smiles.
- When they were young
When he was a young man…
He could hit a softball further and harder than anyone on the block, or so he said.
He used to dress like a movie star and walk the streets like he owned them.
He used to talk loud and laugh louder. Singing with the boys on the side of the old school, flirting with the girls on Ocean Parkway.
He used to smile and light up every room he walked into.
He would fight for people to be treated the right way and fight for other people to be treated in the way they deserved.
Boisterous and proud, he would stand up to anyone who would put down anything he believed in.He accepted differences in each being, and rejected the judgmental people who would condemn another human being.
Being Jewish, and a Mets fan, he may have seemed like an underdog, but always considered himself the winner.
These days, he walks slowly, still flashes that moonlight smile, but time is running short.
He never did a lot of things he wanted to, but he also did so many things he never thought possible.He never experienced life as he had hoped to, but experienced so much he couldn’t have dreamed of.
“Take a good look at yourself and figure out how to improve the person you are. No one is perfect, but you should always try your best to be the best you can be.
“Love is the key to each door in life and having faith in God is paramount, even if you have questions. Trust me, as someone who’s been through some wild stuff, there’s a Higher Power out there watching over us.Always, always, be yourself, no matter what.”
When she was a young lady. She could hit a softball further than any boy could, or so she’d say.
She looked like Jessica Lange and walked like Mae West, stopping people in their tracks wherever she went.
She could be diminutive and shy, or fiercely proud and protective. Protective of anyone who seemed to be judged, labeled or bullied.
She was a prankster who loved to make others laugh and would cry when she watched movies with happy or sad endings.
She’s older now, yet she still has that strut about her, Mae West be damned. She stands upright and sometimes betrays herself with a limp or a hidden grimace. But she can still compete with that sun for the brightest light.
“We must improve ourselves and always believe in our abilities. Especially as women, we must work harder and aim higher. But we must never forget we are always supported by our faith and our knowledge in a higher power. Live, love and laugh, no matter what life or people thrust towards you. Love is the key to your next breath.”
Freddy Zalta 