#16 Rob

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Hello.

What are your top three interests?

Did you say what are my top three interests?

Yeah.

Is this a job interview?

No, I was just...

What's so funny about that?

Why?

I just want to get to know you better.

After 40 years, you want to know.

Just give me your...

What's your top interest?

Probably my kids.

Children in general, yeah.

Children?

Would you say couscous?

I would not say couscous.

You really like couscous.

No, I wouldn't, but I mean.

So, your children, number one.

Number two, a close second is couscous.

And what's three?

Why don't you just tell me what number three is?

Go ahead.

What is my number three?

Hanging up on me?

Boom, boom.

Start the show.

From Gimlet Media, I'm Jonathan Goldstein, and this is Heavyweight.

Today's episode, Rob.

My friend Rob Cordry is a famous actor, and the fact you think I'm resentful is ridiculous.

No, I'm afraid that says more about you than it does about me.

I guess you could say Robert and I have have both done pretty well.

He works with famous movie stars like Duane The Rock Johnson, and I work with famous podcast editors like Jorge The Rock Collection Just.

And boy does he have a lot of amethyst.

Rob was a correspondent on The Daily Show and stars in film franchises like Hot Tubs Time Machine 1 and 2.

And I star in Heavyweight,

the podcast you're listening to right now.

So good for Rob, and good for me.

I don't even know why we're still talking about this.

Because after all, it wasn't Dwayne Johnson who Rob recently approached with a unique problem.

It was me.

Aside from a pocket full of noogies and karate chops, I guess there wasn't a thing the great The Rock could do for Robert.

Rob is more your showbiz name, right?

But it's also my name.

It is?

Yeah.

Because of showbiz opportunities, Rob can't leave Hollywood, so he phones me from a studio in LA.

Hey, gentlemen, start whenever you want, and we'll just keep rolling.

Once his studio operator, Laura, gets us rolling, Rob tells me his tale of woe.

It all began with his daughter, Sloane.

My daughter is 11, and

She tripped over a log and broke her arm.

Sloane was at school, school and she tripped over a log and fell.

Which was exactly how I broke my arm when I was a kid.

When Rob was around his daughter's age, he was out in the woods with his Boy Scout troop and he also tripped over a log and broke his arm.

Exactly like Sloane.

Did you tell her this story about how when you were a kid, the same thing had happened to you?

Oh yeah.

Yeah.

Every connection make with her I kind of cherish and I thought that was just a funny one that we broke our arms in the same exact way.

So

she went and got a cast

and I forwarded the picture.

It was this adorable picture of my daughter in her purple cast and

I sent the picture to my family.

Rob texted the photo to his brother, his sister, his mother, and his father.

And so a text thread began.

Do you have the text on you?

I do.

I think I do.

Yeah, it might take me a second to find it.

Sure, yeah.

Okay, is this

it?

Just trying to find the beginning.

It's so long.

There's a lot about my daughter here.

A lot of aw man, that poor little girl, and so forth.

When the family asked how Sloane had broken her arm, Rob excitedly told them about the weird coincidence.

And that's when Rob's troubles began.

My mother immediately shot back, you never broke your arm.

My mother said, I do not remember that at all.

Laura, do you remember that?

Because my sister is the keeper of memories.

In a family, each member has their role.

the thing that defines them.

Laura's role is keeper of memories.

And immediately, she texted back, don't recall any of this.

A second later Rob's father weighed in with ridicule.

Was that the camping trip where you broke your arm and it healed overnight?

Rob shot back.

I had a cast for weeks exclamation point.

Next, Rob's younger brother Nate chimed in.

Oh boy, here we go.

Another, I broke my arm, I broke my arm story.

Look, I'm the broken arm guy.

That's my role.

In a family, those agreed-upon roles are reinforced through agreed-upon stories.

Rob says the corderies have about a half a dozen chestnuts that get told over and over.

One of the biggies is about young Nate and how he broke his arm twice.

Rob's mom is quick to confirm.

That's true.

You are the broken arm, but.

I'm just reading this verbatim.

My mother can't type worth a crap.

And then she wrote right after that, broken arm guy.

I don't have my glasses on.

I was texting with them for about an hour afterwards.

And everyone in my family

swears that I never broke my arm.

This, in spite of Rob's absolute certainty that he did break his arm.

It really, it made me angry.

It's very invalidating.

I felt like, you know, my mother didn't remember this

experience, this, this, that her son was in pain and, and had to be taken to the hospital and was,

and was in a cast

for a long time, you know.

And I, I think I felt

I felt, I don't know, forgotten.

Rob has has crystal clear memories of the day it happened.

I was on a camp out.

My troop, my Boy Scout troop, would go on a camping trip one weekend out of every month.

It was the fall, so I assume we were in Plymouth, Massachusetts.

It was dark, and I was standing on a log, sort of a log that you would sit on in front of a campfire.

And I...

It was rolling.

I was rolling it.

And I think maybe I was just trying to make people laugh.

And uh, and I fell

and knew immediately that I had broken my arm.

I've never felt that kind of pain.

One of the adults on the trip, an old friend of the family named Don Smith, took Rob to the hospital, where he was fitted with a cast.

Afterwards, Mr.

Smith brought Rob back to the campground.

And that night, Rob slept in the back of a pickup.

while Mr.

Smith slept up front, behind the wheel of the truck.

And I remember waking up and being in such pain and I think I waited there for it felt like the longest time that I was just laboring over waking him up.

I felt so bad waking him up.

Eventually, the pain became so severe that Rob had no choice but to rouse Mr.

Smith for a painkiller.

I asked him what else he remembers.

The way it smelled.

Like the cast.

Yeah.

I mean, you know, your arms covered up in plaster for five to seven weeks.

And so, you know, it smells like a gym locker that hasn't been cleaned in five to seven weeks.

And I remember liking the smell.

That's the weird part.

And getting it off.

I remember getting it off.

I remember getting the cast off and

it smelled terrible, of course.

but good to me.

I just pretended that it smelled awful while I was drinking it in.

And my arm had just withered to nothing.

It looked like a different person's arm.

I can't be making that up, right?

Rob fired off a series of texts to his family, recounting those memories in exhaustive detail.

The camp out, Mr.

Smith, the cast.

When he finished, his mom was the first to text back.

I'm afraid you were hallucinating, sweetie.

Rob tried to laugh it off, but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

That evening, Rob shared his frustration with his wife.

And she patiently listened to the texts, and afterwards, she smiled, and she said, I'm on your family's side.

Gently, his wife reminded him that he's kind of absent-minded.

He doesn't always have the best memory.

Also, In their 16 years of marriage, Rob had never once mentioned a broken arm.

Maybe Rob's mom was right.

Maybe he was hallucinating.

Either I'm telling the truth, Jonathan, or I'm completely insane.

And it could be that I'm insane.

Is Rob insane?

Or had he really broken his arm?

I was going to find out.

But before setting forth on something like this, I need a call to arms.

Something to stir my innards good.

So we're going to do this.

I'm going to do it.

Yeah, good.

My innards remain unstirred.

So

I'm going to get right on this.

All right, great.

But just when I think that Rob will never give my innards the stirring they need.

Hey, Jonathan.

Yes.

Go get him, you son of a bitch.

That's what I was going to do.

Was that good?

That's good.

I was going to say either that or get those bastards, but I'd have felt weird calling my family bastards.

After the break, questioning some dirty rotten bastards.

All right, great.

All right.

I love you very much.

Oh, thank you.

Thank you.

Right back at you there.

Say it.

I want you to say it.

I love you.

So.

What?

I just.

Hello?

Hello?

Yeah, I'm still here.

So, Laura is there as well?

Yeah.

You dropped out a little bit there, Jonathan.

Oh, if you could repeat what you said, that'd be great.

Is Rob still there?

I'm still here.

Yeah, we're both here.

I think there's one little section where you dropped out a bit.

I think you know what section that was, Jonathan.

I was just asking

if you were still...

Can you hear me, Laura?

In today's super competitive business environment, the edge goes to those who push harder, move faster, and level up every tool in their arsenal.

T-Mobile knows all about that.

They're now the best network, according to the experts at OOCLA Speed Test, and they're using that network to launch Supermobile, the first and only business plan to combine intelligent performance, built-in security, and seamless satellite coverage.

With Super Mobile, your performance, security, and coverage are supercharged.

With a network that adapts in real time, your business stays operating at peak capacity even in times of high demand.

With built-in security on the first nationwide 5G advanced network, you keep private data private for you, your team, your clients.

And with seamless coverage from the world's largest satellite-to-mobile constellation, your whole team can text and stay updated even when they're off the grid.

That's your business, supercharged.

Learn more at supermobile.com.

Seamless coverage with compatible devices in most outdoor areas in the U.S.

where you can see the sky.

Best network based on analysis by OOCLA of Speed Test Intelligence Data 1H 2025.

There's more to San Francisco with the Chronicle.

There's more food for thought, more thought for food.

There's more data insights to help with those day-to-day choices.

There's more to the weather than whether it's going to rain.

And with our arts and entertainment coverage, you won't just get out more, you'll get more out of it.

At the Chronicle, knowing more about San Francisco is our passion.

Discover more at sfchronicle.com.

Not all group chats are the same, just like not all Adams are the same.

Adam Brody, for example, uses WhatsApp to plan his grandma's birthday using video calls, polls to choose a gift, and HD photos to document a family moment to remember, all in one group chat.

Makes grandma's birthday her best one yet.

But Adam Scott group messages with an app that isn't WhatsApp.

And so the photo invite came through so blurry, he never even knew about the party.

Yeah, Grandma still won't talk to me.

It's time for WhatsApp.

Message privately with everyone.

Hello.

Hi, is this Robin?

It is.

Hello.

Hey, is this Laura?

It is.

Nate?

Yes.

Mr.

Cordry?

Yes.

Is this an okay time to talk?

My search for the truth begins with the Quadrys.

Rob's brother, Nate.

Uncomfortably sitting in a chair.

His sister, Laura.

Right now we're in Disney World.

His mother, Robin?

I'm in my car in front of a post office.

And his father, Steve.

I'm in Florida.

What makes them all so certain that Rob never broke his arm?

No one in the family can remember it.

His own mother.

No broken arm for Rob.

His own father.

I certainly don't remember him coming back in a cab.

If there's anyone's memory in the family that I would trust, it would be Laura's.

Yeah, I don't think it happened.

I typically remember everything from

every situation in the family, so.

And you've not been wrong before?

No.

My first thought is that maybe around the time Rob broke his arm, something traumatic happened in the cordry's home life.

Something that might have overshadowed the accident and thus erased it from the collective memory.

The death of a grandparent, perhaps.

Or a house fire.

No, nothing.

Well, we got cable one summer, so that kind of derailed the entire neighborhood.

What about Rob's distinct memory of that first night in a cast?

I asked them, sleeping in the back of a pickup truck.

Mr.

Smith never owned a pickup.

And we knew the Smiths a long time.

They lived across the street from us for a number of years.

Never had a pickup.

Mr.

Smith has since died, so I can't turn to him for confirmation about the truck.

But it isn't just the pickup that's suspicious.

It's the hospital, too.

Rob claims he got his cast at the Jordan Hospital.

Rob's mom was a nurse with strong opinions, and she says the Jordan Hospital was a, quote, snake pit.

She'd be damned if she allowed any member of the cordry clan to set foot in that hospital-shaped butcher's college.

There were strict orders, if any of my kids get hurt, do not take them to that hospital.

Don't go to the Jordan Hospital.

That would never happen.

He said he went to Jordan Hospital.

In his make-believe pickup.

And most damning of all, I broke my arm.

Twice.

The only one that I remember having a cast on his arm was his younger brother, Nathan.

My younger brother, Nate, broke his arm, broke his arm twice.

I had to be in traction.

Was in traction for two weeks.

Two weeks, for 14 days.

So the corgeries aren't just a bunch of broken arm deniers.

They all remember when Nate's arm broke and who broke it.

I was running out of the family room onto the back patio, and it was concrete, and I ran and I tripped.

and I fell and I broke my arm.

And for all of the, for my entire adult life, I had thought that my shoelaces were untied.

That is not the truth.

Many years later, Rob said, you know, it wasn't your shoelace.

I tripped you.

He stepped on my shoelace.

He was behind the door, and I was like, Will, hold on, hold on.

You tripped me?

Rob didn't bring up any of this.

Oh, what a surprise.

According to Nate, Rob's false memory stems from guilt.

Laura agrees, saying that seeing Nate in traction was traumatic for Rob.

So I don't know if he's feeling responsible, so now he's trying to make up for it by saying, well, I also broke my arm.

But Rob's visceral memories, the smell of the cast, the sight of the withered arm, how could he have just invented such concrete details?

He was with Nate when Nate had his cast removed.

And he remembers the smell of Nate's cast.

I remember the smell of Nate's cast.

When he took it off, his arm was like yellow and it looked like it was like molting.

It was nasty and it smelled so bad.

Ugh.

I asked Laura if she would describe the odor as reminiscent of, say, a gym locker.

And Laura says, yes, exactly.

A gym locker.

I think he might have tried to steal my memory.

Even if you're famous, you shouldn't go around stealing people's memories.

Hello, Jonathan.

Hi, how are you?

After speaking with the cordres, I decide that I no longer believe Rob.

It isn't like I think he's lying.

It's more like I think he's insane.

So, I need to tread carefully.

So, I wanted.

I

was calling because I wanted to report back to you on some of my findings.

I can't wait.

Easy does it, Johnny Boy.

Okay, well,

I don't know that it's looking great.

So for one thing,

I spoke to your dad.

Yeah.

And he said that

Don Smith,

the scout leader,

doesn't even own a pickup truck.

Oh, he would never.

He would never have owned a pickup truck.

No, he's not that kind of guy.

I'm not sure if it was him.

As Rob flounders for an excuse, I try my best to understand the logic of his deranged mind.

Don Smith might have like found a pickup truck that wasn't his that you guys slept in together?

Yeah, yeah.

I assume like whoever had the most comfortable vehicle to sleep in.

But what about the snake-ridden Jordan Hospital, I ask.

His mom swears that she'd written on his medical form that he was never to go there.

But Rob brushes that off with another half-baked half-baked excuse.

It was so late at night, he says.

She probably didn't think it was worth making the trip to take her wounded son elsewhere.

You know, she's already in her robe watching her stories and drinking Diet Coke and smoking.

Rob's explanations were becoming increasingly far-fetched, but he was sticking to his story.

I had no choice but to bring out the big guns.

The other thing that you failed to mention to me, according to your family, you were responsible for Nate's broken arm.

Oh no.

Rob says Nate's arm is something he still feels bad about, which is why he doesn't like bringing it up.

So I turned to the one piece of evidence I know Rob can't deny.

When Laura, keeper of memories, told me about Nate, broken arm guy, getting his cast removed, her description was suspiciously familiar.

She mentioned Nate's withered arm and how it smelled like a gym locker.

Which is exactly my story.

Yeah.

So,

I mean, there's being forgetful, and then there's completely fabricating

like reality.

I mean, that's

yeah, it's it's made me I don't know, it's made me

kind of look back at my entire life and realize that

I don't remember a lot.

And it makes me very sad.

It's finally beginning to sink in.

Maybe Rob didn't break his arm.

Before we get off the phone, Rob asks me if, in spite of all this, I'll keep digging a little longer.

And I promise him I will.

I'll reach out to you when I have something new.

Great.

And I ain't Jonathan.

Yes.

I love you very, very much.

I hear you, buddy.

And

you know what?

What?

I'm in a crowded area.

Hello?

Yes, my name is David Orcott.

You had called and left a message?

After reaching out to several of Rob's childhood friends who remembered nothing about a broken arm, I eventually hear back from David Orcott.

David and Rob were in the Boy Scouts together, and Rob recalls them taking a group of Girl Scouts on a hike during the autumn of his broken arm.

I fill David in on the alleged broken arm and all the holes in Rob's story.

Every single person in his family said, you're crazy.

You never broke your arm.

And they were quite positive of this.

But he is quite positive himself that he did break his arm and even has like,

sorry, he did break his arm.

I've got a picture of him with a broken arm.

They need the picture?

Yeah, this is crazy.

Do you still have this photograph?

Oh, yeah.

Wow.

Well, you're the first person that I've spoken to who's confirmed this.

This is kind of amazing.

The only reason is I believe I have a scrapbook that that picture's in there.

That's fantastic.

I could check that tonight and verify it if you want.

And then if you need a scan copy or scan of it, we can do something along those lines.

Won't be a problem.

Maybe Rob wasn't as insane as you people thought.

Sorry folks, but according to the Gimlet Media Employee Handbook, when you've got this much dramatic tension in a story, you have to amp it up with a plethora of advertisements.

So, take a bathroom break and fix yourself a snack.

Not at the same time, of course.

And I'll catch you on the B-side.

In today's super competitive business environment, the edge goes to those who push harder, move faster, and level up every tool in their arsenal.

T-Mobile knows all about that.

They're now the best network, according to the experts at OOCLA Speed Test, and they're using that network to launch Supermobile, the first and only business plan to combine intelligent performance, built-in security, and seamless satellite coverage.

With Supermobile, your performance, security, and coverage are supercharged.

With a network that adapts in real time, your business stays operating at peak capacity even in times of high demand.

With built-in security on the first nationwide 5G advanced network, you keep private data private for you, your team, your clients.

And with seamless coverage from the world's largest satellite-to-mobile constellation, your whole team can text and stay updated even when they're off the grid.

That's your business, supercharged.

Learn more at supermobile.com.

Seamless coverage with compatible devices in most outdoor areas in the U.S.

where you can see the sky.

Best network based on analysis by OOCHLA of Speed Test Intelligence Data 1H 2025.

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Not all group chats are the same, just like not all Adams are the same.

Adam Brody, for example, uses WhatsApp to plan his grandma's birthday using video calls, polls to choose a gift, and HD photos to document a family moment to remember.

All in one group chat.

Makes grandma's birthday her best one yet.

But Adam Scott group messages with an app that isn't WhatsApp.

And so the photo invite came through so blurry, he never even knew about the party.

Yeah, Grandma still won't talk to me.

It's time for WhatsApp.

Message privately with everyone.

As promised, a couple days later, I receive the photo from David Orcott.

Rob's on vacation in Hawaii, a paradise island populated by celebs like Tom Selick and Don Ho.

But I just can't wait to share the news.

Plus, I've never talked to anyone in Hawaii before.

Hawaii.

Are you in Hawaii right now?

I am, yeah.

Once Rob's done bragging, I tell him I have something to share.

Okay, here we go.

I'm texting it to you right

now.

It should be on its way.

I just got a text from Jonathan Goldstein.

That would be me.

Attachment, one image.

Whoa.

The photo looks like it was shot on a 1980s inst-matic.

In the foreground is a group of Girl Scouts sitting on a ledge.

And behind them...

There's me.

In the back row, with a broken arm.

The picture is pretty grainy, but you can see a Rob-like boy looking little for his age compared to his friend David, who stands beside him.

Rob's arm is covered in something big and white.

Is it just like you remembered it?

With it, yes.

Yes.

With a huge, huge cast.

And look, and not looking happy either.

Armed with this, I mean, what can they possibly say?

I don't know.

I almost feel bad for them.

Evidence in hand, Rob organizes a conference call with the whole Cordery clan.

And to best enjoy the moment, he also writes a victory speech.

I'm very proud of it.

Do you need to practice it?

Yes.

Let's hear it.

I can't imagine what you're all feeling right now.

How would I react if I had forgotten that my son or brother spent five to six lonely weeks of recovery, shoved into a cast so bulky, so glaringly white, it would not surprise me if strangers who at the time had been cursed to catch a glimpse of me lugging that albatross around still jolt awake at night screaming, man,

that kid sure did have a broken arm.

I'll never forget.

It was a big cast.

Your son, your brother, will always be here to remind you that when I was a kid, I definitely, definitely, without a doubt, broke my arm.

That's beautiful.

Understated, but beautiful.

All right, so you know what?

Why don't we call into this conference line just so we'll be on the line before they will, so we could greet them.

Okay.

Just like in those movies, you know what I mean?

Where like someone walks into the room and then the person with the evidence is sitting calmly, cross-legged in an armchair.

Hello, family.

Glad you can make it.

Please make yourself comfortable.

Okay, so I'll call in and you're going to call in as well, right?

I'm going to call in, yeah,

in one minute.

Okay.

Hello.

Hey, Jonathan, you have Nate so far.

Oh, hi.

Oh, hi, Nate.

I was hoping to get in here before everybody.

Mama Cords is here.

Hi.

Hi.

Who's that?

Hey,

here's the dad.

Hello.

Hi, it's Laura.

Oh, hi.

How are you?

My sister, Laura.

It's so nice that you're all here.

I just got off the phone with your brother Rob.

Oh.

Hello.

There's my son, Rob.

Oh, no.

Did she beat us?

We all beat you.

Oh, everybody's there?

Yeah.

We were one minute into Rob's victory conference call, and already his family was ruining his moment.

I can tell Rob needs a minute to collect himself, to get back into that aloha state of mind.

So taking my cues from a southern lawyer in a Hanna-Barbera cartoon, possibly portrayed by a large rooster wearing suspenders, I take the stage.

The reason I've brought everyone here together is because I've uncovered a piece of evidence that I think might very well be definitive.

In homage to the original text message thread that started this whole thing, I group text the photo of Rob to the whole family.

Here we go.

I'm about to hit send.

Y'all set?

Mm-hmm.

Okay, here we go.

Okay, just sent it.

Oh, hang on.

Oh, wow.

There's a moment of silence as everyone studies the photo.

I worry that maybe it isn't clear enough that the corderies will contest it's even a picture of Rob.

But then.

Does look like Robert in an in a calf

swing

with Rob's identity confirmed.

I give it two shakes of a lamb's tail for the apologies to start rolling in so Rob can put this whole business behind him and enjoy his two o'clock hula dancing class with a free and easy mind.

But two shakes of a lamb's tail becomes three shakes and then

four shakes.

So do do you all like believe now, like definitively, that

Rob was right and you guys were wrong?

I don't know how.

Dad and I, and Laura, and they could not remember this.

Again, a hush falls over the conference call.

How could they not remember?

It just didn't make sense.

Unless I think that was the camp after they were practicing first aid, and they were using Robinson's guinea pig on how to

split a broken arm.

With that, the floodgates are open, and everyone begins forwarding a theory.

It does vaguely look like a pretend cast because of its size.

Like an Adobe Photoshop.

Maybe you just wore that cast when you were away from the house.

Oh, crips.

We never saw it.

From here, all of the cordery's small theories converge into one grand theory, which they trumpet in much the way villagers in a Broadway musical might.

It kind of looks like a sling, though, not really.

It does look like a sling.

Yeah, that's what you're seeing is a sling.

So maybe.

Sprained.

It was a sprain, or

that's what it was.

Yeah.

Okay, I say.

If it was a sprain, then why wouldn't you just remember a sprain?

A sprain is not that memorable.

Just doesn't just doesn't look right.

A sprain in a sling

that big?

Right, so then it can't be a sprain.

It has to be a broken arm, no?

But that would still be an enormous cast on a

small, slight boy.

In the face of the evidence, I wonder if Rob's family is clinging to this whole sprain thing because they just feel bad for not remembering.

Do you think it's a denial out of guilt, you guys?

I don't feel guilty.

Neither do I.

I will say that my memory is imperfect, and it's altogether likely that you did break your arm.

Just likely.

Not 100%, though.

I do have zero memory of it.

But what about even seeing the photographic evidence?

I'm not 100% convinced because nobody remembers it.

In this way, we go around and around.

Since no one remembers it, then it didn't happen.

And if it didn't happen, how could anyone remember it?

And all the while, Rob is silent.

I imagine him on the other end of the line, seated alone at a luau table, sadly picking the weeds from his grass skirt and taking sad, slow sips from one of those drinks that come in a flaming pineapple, the kind famous people are forever throwing at the paparazzi.

Suddenly, Rob lets his frustration be known.

I cannot believe that you guys are working this hard

to not believe that I broke my arm.

I did not expect this.

I did not expect this reaction.

It seems it's going to take more than an old photograph to change the cordury's cemented version of history.

And it's going to take the cordury's belief in Rob to make him feel sane again.

So I asked the family what they'll need to accept that Rob broke his arm.

Well, where's the medical records?

Then I would believe it.

Yeah, of course.

Of course.

Of course.

And if we're able to present medical records, attesting to the fact that Rob broke his arm, would they then all apologize to Rob?

If this is all true, he deserves an apology.

I would apologize, yes.

I would definitely apologize.

I would feel terrible.

Absolutely.

Yes.

Yes.

I'll be the first to stand up.

But do you think that's going to happen?

No, I don't.

I don't know if this is the time to bring up the speech, but

I mean,

yeah, I wrote a speech.

I wrote a victory speech.

In spite of everything, I knew that Rob was proud of that speech.

And since he'd already written it, I figured he might as well read it.

So, I can't imagine.

Oh,

I'll start again.

I can't imagine what you're all feeling right now.

How would I react if I had forgotten that

the corderies want written proof, but do hospitals even keep records from so long ago, let alone a snake pit like the Jordan Hospital.

Since Rob can't be expected to interrupt his Hawaiian holiday with the trivial business of procuring paperwork, I decide to handle it myself.

And who better to help me handle it myself than someone else?

And who better a someone else than an actual doctor?

Hello?

Jackie?

I'm just walking home from work.

I'm actually not far from your old apartment.

Oh, really?

Can you check if I have any mail?

What are you calling me for?

Let's get right to it.

I explained to Jackie that a friend of mine, a famous friend, who for his own privacy I'd rather not name, was in need of medical records.

They were probably like easily over 30 years ago.

Do you think they would still exist?

Well it depends.

So they might either get rid of them or they might have gone into deep storage, but they may have a record.

As a doctor, would you be able to get the records out of deep storage?

No, but he can request them himself.

He doesn't need these.

Well, first of all, he's a very busy man.

Did I mention that he...

I'm not busy, right?

This isn't going at all the way I'd hoped.

Instead of offering help, Jackie is offering jealousy of Rob.

I explained that she's being ridiculous, that she's also my friend, but that Rob just has VIP needs, the needs of a very important...

Let me reiterate what I already said to you.

What did I say to you?

Were you listening?

Yeah, you said you're too.

You said you're too.

You said that he could phone up and he could find out.

He can get them himself.

Yeah, he needs his signature on a piece of paper.

What are you talking to yourself?

Hi, Jeremy.

How are you?

In the midst of tearing me a new beehole, Jackie runs into a friend of hers named Jeremy.

I'd never never heard this tone in her voice before.

Could it be that an unplanned social encounter with a friend was making Jackie happy?

I'm talking to Jonathan.

He's just trying to like, you know, yeah, Donathan.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Oh, it's so good to see you.

Say hi to Jeremy.

Medical records, this is Karen.

How can I help you?

Hi there.

I have a question.

When I explain to Karen what I'm after, I expect her to say something like, medical records from the 1980s?

Dude, this is the Jordan Hospital.

I'm performing open-heart surgery with a spatula as we speak, and I'm the mother F and switchboard operator.

But to my surprise,

we do have records that go that far back.

We have a copy service correspondence team, and if they're able to find anything, lots of times they're on microfiche, then they can reach out.

Okay, thank you so much.

Okay, good luck.

Thank you.

Okay, bye-bye.

Bye-bye.

I don't know.

My experience with the Jordan Hospital has been wonderful.

For the next seven to ten business days, I wait.

But something you don't have to wait for is deals

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Not all group chats are the same.

Just like not all Adams are the same.

Adam Brody, for instance, uses WhatsApp to to pin messages, send events, and settle debates using polls with his friends, all in one group chat.

Makes our guys' night easier.

But Adam Scott group messages with an app that isn't WhatsApp, which means he still can't find that text from his friends about where to meet.

Hang on, still scrolling.

No, the address is here somewhere.

It's time for WhatsApp.

Message privately with everyone.

An envelope arrives to my office.

What's that?

asks Gimlet CEO and founder Alex Bloomberg.

A letter, I say.

A letter, he repeats.

What are you, five billion years old?

I only use Snapchat, WeChat, Kick, Slack, Poke, and Vox.

Well, do you use email, I ask?

Because I've sent you a half a dozen of them about renewing my son's health insurance.

He swallowed a penny over the weekend and

My words are interrupted by the sound of Alex's Fitbit, which has begun emitting a terrifying series of beeps and whistles.

Alex shushes me as he studies his wrist and then, leaping into the air, cries, Boo Yah.

He then walks away performing Tai Chi poses, and I tear open the envelope.

Inside is a single sheet of paper.

At the top it reads, The Jordan Hospital, Emergency Department.

But as for the rest rest of the sheet, I can't make out a word.

It's filled from top to bottom with doctor jargon, written in doctor handwriting.

And so, who better to translate than an actual doctor?

Jackie?

Hang on a second.

You're wearing a turtleneck?

Yeah.

And what's nice about this turtleneck is that it has no arms.

So it's just a neck?

Yep.

Rather than risk another dust-up by suggesting Jackie might not be wearing a turtleneck at all, but rather a neck brace, I instead text her the records so she can take a look.

I can't do that while I'm driving.

Can you pull over to the side of the road, to the shoulder of the road?

Absolutely not.

You cut out there for a second.

Did you say yes?

I said absolutely not.

You cut out again.

You're pulling over.

Stop telling me I cut out.

I did not cut out, and I'm not pulling over.

I think you cut out again.

So you're pulling over.

Okay, so

did you look at what I sent you?

No, I didn't look at what you're saying.

John,

I'm on the highway, John.

John, I'm on the highway.

Just dart your eyes between the windshield and the papers that I just sent you.

No.

Because Jackie's neck brace seems to be constricting the flow of kindness from her heart to her mouth, I decide to just read to her what little I can make out.

It was an exam, Med

Richards, 40.

Like, where does it say if he just broke his arm?

FX of right distal radi radius?

FX means fracture of distal radius.

FX means fractured.

Yeah.

So he fractured his arm.

Yep.

So is that the same thing as breaking?

Yes.

So he broke his arm.

He broke his arm.

Looks like it.

This confirms he broke his arm.

Wonderful.

Are we done?

In high spirits, I get Rob, who's just returned from another vacation, back on the phone.

Welcome back from Fiji.

Thank you very much.

Everything must seem like sort of like in black and white now.

Fiji is about all.

It sounds more exotic than it is.

When Rob's done bragging, I tell him I have some news.

I wanted to share with you the ER report.

Cool.

I'm nervous.

Because if I didn't break my arm, then I mean, I gotta shut everything down and live in therapy.

You broke your arm.

I did.

You did, yeah.

Of course, I did.

I know.

Joining Conference Now.

An impromptu family conference call is arranged.

Nate is traveling and unable to make it, but we get everyone else on the line.

Any last-minute predictions anybody wants to make?

Don't think there's a record of it.

Anybody else?

I'm thinking a sprain.

Well, according to the hospital report, um,

Rob broke his arm.

Wow.

Okay,

you're kidding.

No.

What did the hospital record say?

I texted over, and since Rob's mom is a nurse, she decodes the report for the rest of the family.

Okay, complained of pain, swelling, wrist tripped over log, landing on wrist.

It was just as Rob had said.

Right wrist, distal forearm.

The fractured distal radio.

Wow.

My full apologies, Robert.

The medical report has done the job.

I am sorry that I don't remember this incident at all.

I mean, I remember a lot of other incidences,

but this one, I don't remember it, but that doesn't mean that it didn't happen.

You've got me in tears, and

I believe you.

Nothing to be in tears over.

As his family begins to apologize, Rob begins to backpedal.

I can't imagine making you apologize for this,

but like...

I could do that.

No,

this is that.

It just makes me uncomfortable.

I think it's kind of understandable that a group of four people

would forget something like this because it was...

It was fairly trivial.

No.

I disagree.

this was not trivial.

It wasn't a little thing.

You broke your arm,

and I have absolutely no memory of it.

That makes me crazy.

Yeah, it kind of makes me feel bad that as a parent, I don't remember it.

With Rob's broken arm confirmed, his parents go from doubting their son to doubting themselves.

What kind of parents were they?

All the agreed-upon roles are called into question.

How can Laura be the keeper of memories if she failed to keep this memory?

And Nate, how can he be the broken arm guy?

If now there's some other broken arm guy?

This is the moment when Rob should be delivering his victory speech in its entirety.

He should be saying, I told you so, in a sing-song-y voice that is sickening to everyone.

He should be gloating.

But there's something about his family's remorse that feels worse than their disbelief.

So instead, Rob tries to defuse the situation by joking around.

No, no, no, I don't.

Listen, you weren't there for it.

You probably had to write me a note to get out of Phys Ed, which was great.

That's probably the extent of your involvement in it.

To reassure them, Rob falls back on the old Cordry family chestnuts.

I can think back to seeing little Nate in traction in the hospital and even today can probably cry over it.

That's memorable.

And just like that, things begin to snap back into place.

Once again, Nate is the broken arm guy.

And Laura?

I mean, I'm surprised that I don't remember it because I remember stupid things like what color sneakers I had.

I remember one day we went for dinner or lunch at either Burger King or McDonald's and Laura found $10 under the table.

It was Brigham's.

See?

I didn't remember that.

I just remember that.

Yeah, I remember where we were sitting.

And just like that, once again, Laura is the keeper of memories.

After everyone gets off the phone, I stay on with Rob.

The calls left him feeling kind of bad, especially for his mom.

Before we'd all signed off, she apologized yet again.

Despite Rob's reassurance, she was still feeling guilty and unsettled by your lack of memory.

Hi, this is Robin.

I can't take your call right now.

So Rob and I give her a call to check back in, but she isn't picking up.

Thanks for calling.

Hi, Mom.

It's Robert William.

My friend Jonathan's here.

Hi.

And I love you.

Oh, I love you.

Goodbye.

Oh, sorry.

I was talking to my mother that time, Jonathan.

Eventually, my friend Jackie did read Rob's medical report.

And then she texted me.

This is notable for two reasons.

One, Jackie never texts me.

And two,

she began the text by saying, I read the report, and truthfully, the most interesting part was the remark that the patient was pleasant.

Oh.

Well, that's very nice.

And she goes on to say in an ER setting, no one would ever bother writing that.

Oh man.

I remember getting along with the doctor and

him saying that

I was a champ.

I just

swallowed your pain.

I took great pride in being a champ.

In the ER, Rob was pleasant.

In the pickup truck, he didn't want to bother anyone for a painkiller.

A couple weeks later, and he was leading Girl Scouts on a hike.

And ultimately, maybe that's why no one remembers Rob breaking his arm.

Because whether it was a big deal or not, he acted like it wasn't.

Rob liked being a champ, and he still likes being a champ.

making people laugh, joking things off.

So it was no surprise that when I I asked the corderies what Rob's role in the family was, they all said the same thing: He's the funny guy.

He was funny.

He was the funny one.

He always started things at the dinner table.

Rob isn't an insult comic.

The joke's always on him.

The joke's always to make everyone else feel better.

You're pleasant.

I guess I am.

I hope you feel good about that.

I do.

I actually do.

I hope that

that's what people say about me.

He is really funny and caring and sweet, and I love the soft side of him.

This is Sloane, Rob's little girl who broke her arm, whose picture in a big purple cast set this whole thing off in the first place.

He doesn't really have a hard side.

And he's someone who you can always

go to and he's not gonna yell at you or tell you like that you did something wrong.

After Sloane broke her arm, Rob told her the story of how he had also broken his arm on a log, how he was rolling on top of it to make his friends laugh.

Anyway, it was just comforting to know that like

I wasn't the only one who tripped over a tree, because that's embarrassing.

Rob told me that when no one in his family believed him, not his mother, father, sister, or brother, not even his wife, there was one person who did.

Yeah,

I did.

I just felt like he was telling the truth.

I was very frustrated that no one believed him, so I wanted to be nice to him, too.

In Rob's new family, everyone is still growing into their roles.

So for now, Sloane is the bookworm.

Her little sister, Marlow, is the rocker, always playing her electric guitar.

And Rob, to them, isn't the funny one, or even the famous one.

He's the soft one, the sweet and caring one.

Thank you, Jonathan.

Thank you, Rob.

And hey,

John.

Johnny.

Yeah.

I love you very much.

I love you, Rob.

Yes.

Okay, goodbye.

Bye-bye.

Now that the furniture's returning to its goodwill home,

now that the last month's rent is scheming with the damaged deposit, take this moment to decide

if we meant it, if we tried

but felt around for far too much

from things that accidentally tied.

Heavyweight is hosted and produced by me, Jonathan Goldstein, along with Khalila Holt, Peter Bresnan, and Stevie Lane.

The show is edited by Jorge Just, with additional editing by Alex Bloomberg.

Special thanks to Emily Condon, Fia Bennon, B.A.

Parker, Matthew Nelson, Sandra Cordry, and Jackie Cohen.

Thanks too to our friends at Maximum Fun, with whom we had the maximum amount of fun.

Bobby Lord mixed the episode with music by Christine Fellows, Blue Dot Sessions, and with his very own music by he himself, Bobby Lord.

Don't laugh when I'm doing the credits.

Additional music credits can be found on our website, gimletmedia.com/slash heavyweight.

Our theme song is by The Weaker Thans, courtesy of Epitaph Records, and our ad music is by Haley Shaw.

Follow us on Twitter at heavyweight or email us at heavyweight at gimletmedia.com.

We'll have a brand new episode next week.

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This is an iHeart Podcast.