Monday, November 20, 2023

How Could Fifty be Almost Twenty Years Ago?

Sometime in 2003, I decided that I wanted to throw myself a 50th Birthday party in the upcoming year. It isn't quite as selfish as it seems. Getting to 50 was a big deal to me. My mother hadn't made it. I had been blessed with quite a number of people in and out of my life, many who were still percolating around me, who had contributed to its arc. I wanted to do something that would be a real sharing of myself, something I do not do easily. But a party I could do.

I wrote a little invitation around Christmas 2003, I think, and sent it to people from various times and parts of my life, growing up (family and grade school and high school friends), my work life (then the State Bar) and my Church Life (then and now St. Victor in West Hollywood). Although I am not much of a swimmer, I have always liked the Ocean and times around the Pacific, whether lolling on the beach staring at the waves, or having a nice dinner at the former Chart House, or Duke's. And the ocean is a visual marker for the passage of time (remember The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, the movie, where the crashing waves are the film's measure of the passing of Mrs. Muir's life with the dashing, ghost of Captain Gregg?). So, it seemed perfect. I had a favorite restaurant at the time, still on the Pacific Coast Highway, called Moonshadows, though like all things in this world, modernity messed it up (in my view).  So, I made inquiry, over a free lunch (I think) and booked their little room just off the main dining area, guessing that of those I invited, some from the East, some from up north, in San Francisco, and one from Australia, about 60is would show up. I could do a choice of dinner, with appetizers, and wine for what seemed to me a reasonable price. My father, the financially careful child of the Depression, was not pleased I was paying for my own birthday and tried ever so hard to find out exactly how much I was expending. I never did tell him. I decided that for a few of those potential visitors I would get a few rooms at the Malibu Beach Inn. That too was (and is) right on the water, and I knew that I wanted to spend the overnight of my birthday gathering sleeping in a room with the rush of the waves as natural music. And I hoped that the friends who could come from elsewhere in the States would enjoy the overnight and a nice continental breakfast on the main terrace as much as I would. 

There weren't many such places right on the beach. I just ran across a 2008 article in the New York Times that describes the Inn at around the time I booked it, as an "adequate, but faded affair". The Times was lauding the reality that in the mid-2000s, David Geffen had bought it and remade it from a quiet place where celebrities sometimes stayed anonymously, along with the truly anonymous among us, (as it happens the weekend I was there Diana Ross was puttering around, and a few of us ran across her as we wended our way to our rooms), to another celebrity haunt the rest of us could never afford now between $655 and 823 for a standard room.  It wasn't that cheap then, about $230 a room. But given where it was, the views, the sense of utter wonder of nature, and sharing it with friends, I thought it was worth every dollar. To me, the place was more than adequate. It was perfect.  

I read that David Geffen no longer owns it, having sold it to others. Me, I never liked the renovation, I would define as an adequate, but disappointing glitzy, but the locale is still spectacular, albeit now inaccessible to the likes of me. Should I do a 70th, as I am considering, it will not be a the beach, alas. But I have ideas. 

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/general-news/malibu-beach-inn-a-first-896861/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/felicitycarter/2021/12/26/10-things-to-know-about-malibu-beach-inn/?sh=45e902eaaf95

I can't say that I have ever enjoyed the enjoyment of others so much. Several friends came from New York, from San Francisco, from Missouri, and even that one from Australia. People who did not know each other communed with pleasure. Someone kept buying me cosmos, then popular (and not part of my package). My keyboardist was late, but he finally made it, and no one was the worse for wear either way as the conversation never lagged. There was some sad wistfulness, as I will detail later, in that two people whom I cared deeply about died that Spring, one before the party, and the other just after it. 

Dad resisted the whole production, and curmudgeon that he could be, complained that the food was not to his standard (he never felt that any restaurant measured up, especially if he thought the price was exorbitant, as always he did), but despite himself, you can see in photographs that he enjoyed himself. One of the invitees who could not come was Sophia, the woman I have written about before, that he had dated in the 1970s. He mistook one of my other friends (who indeed looks like Sophia) for her. 


Above. Me, my cousin Carol and Mike. I did an Ethics presentation at Pepperdine that weekend, as well, which they attended. 

Below, what the Malibu Beach Inn in 2004. 
And the special events menu at Moonshadows.



Below, some samples of cards for the 50 year old.


Below, Veronica (who just died at age 99 this past August), only her head visible in the photo, Joey, Jim, the waiter, Mike and Jessica, the latter two my boss and colleague.





The card above from Veronica, which made me laugh at the time because she was such a prim and proper soul. She also sent me a Mass card, so she covered the secular, and the spiritual for my birthday.


Karen, Cyd, Geri, Janet and me. Alas, since my retirement I have lost touch with most of these wonderful ladies. 


Above, I had forgotten that I once gave one of my childhood books to Bob and Ellen's son Matt. I have done that before, and since, since I have no children of my own, and these kids, (now all in their 30s), were and are important to me.



Above and below. Someone (Noreen) gave me a star. Noreen could not come for the party with her husband Gary. She was a star herself, to me. She passed in 2010, a loss to all of us. And a nice gift for cancer research in honor of my mother. 


Standing in front of the picture window of the ocean and a bunch of photographs from my memory drawer.






A thank you note from Kay, who had been ambivalent about the large gathering. Kay has also since passed on (a couple of years ago). Below, me with Peter, David with Cyd, Geri with Kathy, Dane with Maridee, my dad dancing with I don't know who, me enjoying myself.




Dad with Janet, David again, Ellen, Bob and Len, three of my oldest friends.


Ellen in hat. Me and my cousin Carol, that one at an earlier lunch, Dad with Carol in his apartment.


Dad with Carol at the party. Dad would be with me until 2008, just having turned 90. 



Above, Maridee and me at breakfast the next morning. What a place that Inn was!

As I said, there is always the wistful part of the wonderful in life. I can report that several of the people who attended the party I still have a relationship with, but some, I lost contact with as our lives diverged. Some moved. Some got other jobs. I retired. A few passed on. I remember two of those who died because their passing coincided with my gaining that 50th year. 

The first is Fran Bassios. Fran's first name was actually Photios, a Saint of the Greek Orthodox Church. Fran was of Greek extraction. Maybe that was part of the connection for me, that he and I shared that ancestry, albeit me only a quarter on my father's side. When I arrived at the State Bar, Fran was the Acting Chief Trial Counsel. I arrived during one of the thousands of crises (I only sort of exaggerate) for the State Bar and it's Disciplinary arm, in 1986. The staff of attorneys had unionized and were threatening to strike (and they did right as I began my career there, as you can imagine, stressful for the new employee) and Fran was a lightning rod for dissatisfaction. He was not an easy man to please, and with my psychological profile, he was, of course, the kind of person I needed to please--to whom to prove myself. He kept a distance emotionally from others. I did the same thing. I understood it. I found him to be a kindred spirit, though we would never talk deeply enough for me to admit that to him. Only once did I have an intense conversation with him, a disagreement, really, and we ended up, uncharacteristically for both of us, I still think, hugging. He was a mentor when I was at the Bar. He was often the Acting Chief Trial Counsel in our revolving door of Chief Trial Counsel, and frankly, he should have been made the Chief, but he just wasn't political enough (in my view); he said what he thought and that never bodes well for the person committed to the job and not to the smoke and mirrors. Ultimately, he got kicked upstairs. I invited him to my gathering. I would have been proud to have him there. But he was already not well, as only a few of us knew. He declined.  We had a long conversation a few weeks before he died, on April 4, 2004. He was his usual cynical self. Below is the announcement that was sent to all of us by one of our executives. 






Only about eleven days after the party another person who meant a great deal to me died, suddenly, at the too young age of 57. His name is Bill. To me, and to others I have come to know over the years, who feel the same way, he was a great man. He was a psychologist, as his own daughter has become. I went to his funeral just a few weeks later in Massachusetts, where he had moved in 1999, with his family to be closer to his parents. When I saw how others (whom I had never met before) had regarded him, with such intense caring and affection, my own sense of having been around someone of a special undefinable grace was confirmed. No person on this earth is perfect, but this one touched many lives in a way that was unique in its goodness. 





2004 was a good year. It was also a sad year. But I was, and remain, grateful for it. So, I will leave this entry with a smile, from a very old picture. It probably is a favorite because I remember being in a really good mood that day, someplace around 1980. It was taken in upstate New York at a lake near the summer home of a college friend of mine (and his wife, both of whom I still know). I never liked my puffy arms and I probably wasn't eager to have the picture taken, so I put the news paper close to me and laughed. I wasn't even 30 yet. Oh, how time passes. Brings a tear to my eye I can tell you. Truly. 








I know that I would have never considered I'd be arranging a 50th birthday party in Malibu in a mere 24 years. 











Wednesday, November 8, 2023

State Bar Employees and Friends Say Fare Thee Well (to me) in 2011

No doubt I have somewhere noted in these blog pages that after getting my Law licenses in New York and California, and working in various part of the profession, in the 1980s I seriously considered giving it all up. I might have been relatively intelligent and certainly verbal, but the confrontation and games playing, never did suit me. I was and remain a bit literal about the truth in an arena where truth, despite claims otherwise especially by the profession itself, tends to be flexible. I was a psychological introvert in a extrovert's field. And the last person who seemed to have any real relevance in private practices I observed was the client.  And even back then, the amount of paper and bureaucracy was enormous. I was about to quit (to my Depression era father's horror) when through a series of perhaps Divine interventions and/or synchronicity (I am religious so I tend to go with the former explanation though I expect that Divine intervention can be synchronous) I ended up as a prosecutor for the State Bar of California. My job was to attempt to uphold the ideals which were the raison d'etre for the Rules of Professional Conduct. I did my best. We did our best in a constantly politically charged atmosphere (Is there any other kind?) This more suited my nature and allowed me to stay in the career I had chosen--albeit for reasons that are really still a mystery to me. That's not to say it was easy. Where there are human beings, there is imperfection. But what I found was that not only was I a decent trial lawyer, but that this work turned out to be a vocation in that field I had oddly chosen.  And in that milieu I met wonderful dedicated people, some of whom remain friends today. Like Claudius in ancient Roman Times, I survived lots of changes in leadership, until a quarter of a century into my career, having reached the heights of middle management, I, along with several others, was promoted into retirement one day, very quickly, in the summer of 2011. This vocation was at an end. There have been, and will be, others.  

There was no formal farewell at the Bar per se, and I was not able to celebrate my 25th year at the annual service awards as they occurred after my separation, but there were gatherings at local restaurants, and somewhere along the way I was given a lovely album by which to remember my colleagues and friends. 

I offer a few of these in today's blog entry, with occasional commentary.




The above pic of me was at one of our birthday celebrations, this one, clearly, mine. 



I have so much affection for those I worked with---to this day. 




Above upper right. Me and my long time secretary Paula. Just below, me and my later secretary Jessica. Lower left, me and Rick, I think it was an NOBC in Philadelphia. Right, me and Janet. 



I know I will miss some names, but even if I do, I'm glad I rubbed shoulders with you. Let's see, some pictured and not in any order, Paul, Ysabel, Robin, Paula, Lisa, Geri, Sarah, Maridee, Teresa, Alan, oh dear, my memory for names has never been good! One sad note in this pic, that Alice is no longer with us. 



My favorite in this set is the funny picture of Dane. Dane was my right hand at the end of my time at the Bar, in the Intake Unit. He settled me when things got too crazy. I think I settled him when things got too crazy for him. I haven't seen him in years,  so I can't say for sure.  





The Office of the Chief Counsel management team when Mike Nisperos was the CTC. Hmmm, This was circa 2001 to 2004? I'm going to miss a name or two. Me, Elena, Jessica, Jeff, Rick, Victoria, Russell, Cathy, Seana, Mike, Bill. 




I am going to miss some names again, but a few, Tom, Larry, Kristin, Luis, Paul O., Kim, Sheryl, Tom...








More faces I see, Mehdi, Jean, Ed, Mike, Charles, Tim, Kim, add yourself in the comments!



Above is a kind of sad one, in that Scott and Judge Talcott are both gone.



I feel so guilty, people I know I know, and I can't remember names, those I can, Murray, Joe, Sue, Eric, Anthony, Yolanda, Brooke. . . . 


Oh, dear Sarah, middle right, no longer with us. More names that come to me, Keith, Alan, and below Teri, Shari, Susan A., Barbara, John who got out of law and went into commercials on TV, and comedy music.




I'm exhausted trying to remember all names. . . .Craig with mom Geri, me and Max, Cecilia, Sheila, Lisa . . . .



Our Christmas (Festivus was what we called them courtesy of was it Seinfeld?) gatherings were always one of my favorites as plainly you can see. I'm the one with the Santa hat. We used to do White Elephant gifting. Russell who was my boss is next to me above. 



Yes, there were a lot of social gatherings, but there was also a lot of hard work and the stress of changing agendas and stakeholders. And I was lucky to be among you all. It has been fun to think about it for this edition of the blog. And I have fared well. 

Thursday, November 2, 2023

New York, to Massachusetts in 2005 and oh, Throw in San Francisco

As I have no doubt said in past entries, I am amazed, given how much I do not like flying, that I have managed to do as many trips as I have. It's a testament I guess to people I have been lucky to know and the emotional and intellectual drive to see places I have read about! In 2005, Len Speaks (if I am correct) spearheaded a WFUV reunion in New York, specifically Westchester. Now, let me offer a recapitulation about WFUV when I was a student at Fordham at Rose Hill in the Bronx in the antediluvian days of the 1970s. It was a hallway between two doors on the upper level of Keating Hall. It was a 50,000 watt student station, that covered (still does) New York, Connecticut and Jersey I seem to recall. At the time I started there doing the station break (This is WFUV, the Radio Voice of Fordham University), as a sophomore, having been a wing person to my friend Ginny (does she remember I wonder?) in pursuit of one of the young gentlemen staffers at FUV, it was only on the air for about (all you FUVers can correct me) six hours a day. She flirted. I auditioned for the Evening Concert by correctly saying the Classical composers names. I was Rhoda to her Mary Tyler Moore. Just kidding. In my time air time was increased to about 18 hours (Again this is if memory serves, as I did come in at 6 a.m. to turn on the transmitter from time to time. Yes, I did once manage to get up before 10 a.m.!) Since my days there, Fordham discovered the monetary value of the student run station which had eluded it before, and essentially took it over and while everyone is told how much the students are involved, it is not student run (yes, in my opinion). And what are described as the halcyon days omits ever so much about many of those who spent their undergraduate years there making it finally attractive to the powers that be. As for me, I didn't ultimately go into the "entertainment" field. But that time in my life was key to what success I had in my working and social life. I made friends there I still have. And it took me from painfully shy and quiet to well, an extroverted introversion if that makes any sense. I tend still to prefer to be alone and quiet, but I am well able to transact my day among others and seem very comfortable. Sometimes I actually am. So, below some shots of that trip.

I stayed in Chappaqua--humble geographic and well secured home of the Clintons, but also of a wonderful boutique hotel called Kittle House, which is formed from an 18th century home, if memory serves. My room was in the attic and I felt ever so safe, and happy and well tended. And as you can see just below, it had residents I always like: Cats. Mama is the one with the black spot on her nose. The other is her daughter. They spent much time in my room, and on my bed. 


                                       Just below, our room at the facility where the festivities were held. I rented a car (and there was lots of rain that trip; the Saw Mill parkway is quite a treacherous drive in the rain!) and drove where I needed to be. 


Below, some of the attendees, including but not limited to Bill Pomerleau, the late Rich Adcock, Mike Fornatale, Ralph Carmosino, Mary Carmosino, Len Klatt, Steve Petrone, Ginny Rohan, Ron Rollo, Steve Dunlop, Gary Stanley, Bob Brienza, Lorraine Raguseo, Mary Maguire. . . .feel free to add names of those I missed.  And, a special shout out to the late Mrs. Vallach, who arranged for the restaurant facility. Like my father, she had an affection for the kids from Fordham. Good days. 




And, I managed to see two others in New York. My now late Aunt Georgia who by this time was in a memory care location, again, if ye old memory serves, and my then California friend, Fr. Paul Wolkovits who was in New York. We met at the Yale Club in Manhattan and had one of the deepest talks of our friendship. 

 
From there I drove to Massachusetts and the South Bay to the town of Scituate (I just read that Mark Goddard from Lost in Space grew up there), to spend time with Janey and the kids (well then they were kids). One day I'll tell the story about how they came into my life--and have stayed in it. Some pics are from my stay; others are those sent to me in and around 2005.





Today Cait is a psychologist like her late father and Charlie is into finance, is married and just had his first child, a boy. When our parents told us that time passes quickly, they were understating it. To me it is just yesterday. In time, it is all history. 




This wasn't part of my trip, but Janey got to be the Rose of Scituate. 



As I wended my way back to Logan Airport and I had a lot of time, I decided to visit the Kennedy Library. That had been on my bucket list. Bottom two shots. The upper shots (of the ones below) are of the former home of my friends in Scituate. It was rural-ish with lovely woods around.  Now the whole area is a subdivision of manicured homes. 



Later on, that same year, I was invited to the installation of Bishop George Niederauer as Archbishop of San Francisco. I had, and my father had, gotten to know the Archbishop when he was one of two Monsignors (he was in residence; the other was pastor) at my parish of St. Victor. I had the good fortune to visit Utah when he became a Bishop there, and now I got to do the San Francisco version. I stayed in a little local B and B. And my friend Denise and I had a day to putter around which we did by a boat ride to Sausalito, eating, shopping and walking. Neither of us had any agenda that day and so whatever we fell into, we enjoyed. I bought a reversible raincoat on sale for 40 bucks which I have worn during our mild winters for the last going on 19 years. I still can't get over the bargain! San Francisco wasn't new to me, because as an ethics prosecutor I used to teach a class from time to time in the City at our offices there. (Hour flights were slightly less traumatic for me!)




Don't ask me how my late Tuxedo and Tipper cats got in here, with Denise, but below, with Denise, they are when they were both quite young.