New Years Blog - 2015

New Years Blog-2015

January 5, 2015

It was a very hectic Holiday season for Kimberly and me.  It started early and stayed late.  By the time we got to a wonderful Christmas Eve at our daughter’s house in San Francisco, I was beat.  All along it had been our plan to go to Los Angeles for a few days.  I love it down there: the weather is about 10 degrees hotter, there are no meetings, few distractions, and no real plans.  Just play Paddle Tennis in the morning, something around art in the afternoon, then a movie and dinner.  We argue about how much we are going to do.  I think we should only try to do 3 things a day but Kimbo thinks about 5.  We generally settle on 4.  We always stay in Venice Beach and this time in a small bungalow off of one of the “walk streets.”  While it was several blocks from where I wanted to be, still it was only a couple of blocks from the beach. 

We took our dog, Bodhi, and the new Mustang and set off for LA after a sweet Christmas day with our grandchildren.  They are very grown up, and we rarely get enough time with them since they’re away at college during the school year and working in the summers.  They gave us stockings stuffed with all the things we used to put in their stockings: toothpaste, gum, soap, candy etc - very clever and funny.  The drive down is routine and on Christmas day crowded as usual.  From SF, it was an easy 5-1/2 hour drive into the driveway at our spot in VB just as the sun was going down.  We walked down to Abbot-Kinney for dinner and even on Christmas Day had lots of choices.  

Up early in the AM and off to the Public Paddle Tennis pavilion on the beach where I immediately caught up with my coach from our last visit, Gino Berjarano.  What a nice guy.  A good teacher and an excellent player who has developed many champions on these perfect courts.  We had a great time and a perfect lesson remembering all the tricks of what is called “paddle”.  I remembered again why I want to build a paddle court in Sonoma.  It’s a terrific game for overage tennis and squash players with not much movement required but lots of eye hand coordination.  Of course, it is a different game for the younger set and singles is very physical.  I am determined to try and get something built in Sonoma asap.  Thinking of Depot Park. 

Kimberly, Bodhi, and Me at the Paddle Tennis Court.

Our pattern didn’t change much for the next five days: movies, art, paddle, dog park, restaurants for dinner and quiet times. 

Every year we go to the Hammer, which is the museum of the great university, UCLA.  It is dedicated to Armand Hammer who had a broad collection that he donated to start the Museum.  On one of our previous trips, we had occasion to meet the Director, Annie Philbin, who is a well known and respected museum person and she gave us a behind-the-scenes view of running the museum.  This year one of the showcased exhibitions was by Jim Hodges who had tall installations of three dimension cutouts – white leaves and fluttery – really terrific.  But in general for a museum with a fine reputation, I didn’t think they had anything going on that was more than ordinary.  Perhaps I am spoiled by what it takes to make a exhibition outstanding, but in Sonoma, we are very lucky to have a small museum that works on a shoestring but produces terrific shows.  The Hammer has lots of assets and many people including guards, security, store folks, and curators, as well as mucho marble stairs and fancy lighting, but this time it  disappointed from the electric moments that can occur when it all works. 

The next day we trekked north along the coast to the Getty Villa.  It always meets my highest expectation with its remarkable and scenic setting, fantastic presentation of Greek and Roman treasures, concise narratives about the work and peerless decoration.  It never disappoints. 

The weather in LA started turning the day before New Year’s Eve so we headed back up the 5 in big time traffic.  The wind was blowing and the cars were playing bumper tag at about 80 MPH.  No fun, but doable, and home to our own bed.  As usual, my patient partner probably didn’t like So Cal as much as I did, but oh, that Paddle Tennis. 

At my age, it goes without saying that we will continue to lose friends, pals, public figures and relatives.  2014 was a tough year with some very big losses.  One can only hope that they are no longer in pain or at least their friends have made a little peace with their absence.  I have mentioned some of them in earlier blogs, but the loss of Stuart Scott, a seminal sports reporter and announcer at 49 was way too early.  As to Kent Larson, Nancy Tracey, and Arnie Scher, I take their loss personally.  It is my hope that I will remember to take each and everyday as a gift.  It is important to be here now, be mindful, and savor each intake of our breath. 

A Grateful Holiday

November 28, 2014

My favorite holiday of every year is Thanksgiving.  It is an American invention, families get together to celebrate, it eliminates politics, and if you’re lucky, the food is good and plentiful.

That said, it has its pitfalls.  For some families the stress of all getting to the same place, preparing for the mob, and of course, the usual differences among the attendees can create issues for even the closest families and friends. 

In my case, I go to a huge family Thanksgiving with Kimberly’s family.  They are a close-knit bunch with five of six sisters regularly coming together at the oldest sister, Kris’s home.  She does have a 45-year partner, Owen, and they have been holding this grand event for over 40 years.  Everybody is in the game and expected to contribute something to the feast.  I have been invited for 26 years and can’t remember having missed yet.  Everybody generally seems to be having a wonderful time, and it gives us a chance to chat and catch up with the Portland branch and watch all the kids grow up one year at a time. 

Several weeks ago, I had a hip replacement. Not exactly ordinary because it was a hip that had already been replaced with a prosthetic 18 or 19 years ago.  We really can’t remember when.  So, this was a replacement of a replacement.  How lucky can you get? For the present, the rest of my implants seem to be holding up pretty well.  My recovery has gone well.  I am back to working out with my Trainer, the great Elias Casolla, and will slowly get back to my regular routines.  I have a deep aversion to pain meds and since leaving the hospital have not taken anything stronger than Tylenol.  You are not able to take anti-inflammatories because of the risk of thinning your blood too much.  Because I am arthritic throughout my entire body, I am suddenly able to know exactly where every touch of arthritis resides.  At some point I will be able to resume a regular routine with my drug of choice, Aleve, but it won’t be for a few more weeks.  There isn’t much more to say about all of this except I am most fortunate to have had an excellent recovery most of the way.

For some reason, yesterday, Thanksgiving was one of the difficult pain days.  That ache all over feeling that makes even the most stoic patient slow and not so nice.  So, even though we went as usual, I was not at my best.  After the feast, many of us have always played charades, but last night that wouldn’t work for me.  Also, even though I am grateful for many things, it is hard to show when it’s not going too well.  So, we scrammed home and I hit the deck only to watch on replay my fav 49er’s play so badly that I turned off the TV and went to sleep. 

That is sort of the end.  Today, I feel more like myself and am most grateful for that.  Also, for the fantastic Kimberly, my loving family including the beautiful and talented Beccy who turned 21 three days ago, my genuine good health, few worries about material things, and for an older guy a promising future in my business stuff. Because we cannot predict the future and for sure there will be changes, I will take this good fortune for right now.  This moment to be mindful of all the goodness.  Be here, be here now.   

Rain

October 22, 2014

Is it ever going to rain?  We seem to have lots of threats and some very dark clouds but not much coming down.  I left the window of my car open last night by mistake and in the morning it was slightly wet on the inside of the doors but barely.  For a variety of reasons it is driving me crazy.  My inner calendar calls for this season to have some precipitation, and I keep thinking it will come. 

In 1977 I was living in San Francisco in the shadow of Buena Vista Park.  BV, as we called it, has the world’s best public tennis court.  The park is very big by city standards, the second largest park in San Francisco topped only by the very magnificent Golden Gate Park.  The tennis courts were on the East side of the park and were sheltered from the fog and mist that passed over from West to East, so you could be playing tennis while the rest of the park was shrouded in dense fog.  Also, the courts had an unparalleled view of the Bay and downtown SF.  It seemed perfect to me. 

While I had been living in San Francisco for years, there had been no drought since my arrival.  That year, it never rained.  The weather was perfect day after day.  While I was carrying a significant travel schedule, still I was around for many sunny days.  We had a regular game that we played at lunchtime and god forbid some other neighbors or players were on our public court at that time.  Using whatever technique necessary we always got a court.  Lunch was tennis.  We never missed a day and we all improved.  Still I kept waiting for the rain.

As a short aside, in 1982, many of my tennis pals started to get sick and of our group of about 100 players, over half of them died within the next couple of years. It was incredibly sad and devastating to us.  It was a desperate time and AIDS seemed unstoppable.  Many of our players simply disappeared.  It seemed to never end, and of course it finally did, but way too late for dozens of my pals. 

So here we are in Sonoma, 2014 and another Fall season begins with very little promise of rain.  It really worries me that someday we will run out of water.  That we will have used it all up, that the aquifers will run dry, that winter won’t come.  I suppose I have enough to worry about, but it bugs me that we don’t seem to do anything constructive about saving our resources.  Have we reached the level of non-concern that seems to abound in Southern California?  Maybe I am too naive.  What does it take to make our society pay attention to these primal matters?  As much as I dislike the early dark and the falling leaves, it seems the best I can do is reduce my usage and hope it starts raining soon.

Some Words About Loss

September 30, 2014

We are on the road with our dog Bodhi and right now I am sitting in a lovely room at the completely renovated Heritage House near Mendocino on the Pacific Ocean.  We have had a beautiful easy day.  We have a great view from our room, no pressure to do anything, and our worldview is optimistic and expansive.

Of course, if you are a pessimist or even a realist you know that it all will change.  We can only hope to “be here now” for as long as possible.  The last several months have been filled with serial bereavement, the loss of friends, a long term employee who was really a friend, and some friends who were connected  peripherally and through others.  It is also Fall and the changing of the season.  While some love the Autumn, (it’s Kimberly’s favorite season), I find the earlier darkness and shorter days to be a depressant.  So call me a whiner.  Going back to school was never my best moment. It reminds me of Sunday night before school knowing that Monday brought homework assignments and preparations that I might not have fully completed. 

So these little tics hang on into my old age.  Darker days, Sunday nights, worrying about things you can’t change.  One can only say that they will probably stay with me until the end.  Still, things have changed and whether I like it or anticipate it, dread it or hate it, still I must accept what cannot be changed.  So what is so different?

It is much easier to see the “horizon” than it was twenty years ago.  What is the “Horizon”?  It is my own mortality, it is seeing friends fail, it is not being able to walk the golf course, it is getting up several times every night, not remembering names that I know, making sure I get that afternoon nap, going to bed earlier, not reading as fast, taking more time in the morning, not having food taste as good etc.  I can probably go on but who cares?  Even with all the give-ups, I still get to do lots of things I love including all things family, tennis and biking, workouts and talking to pals, driving and riding my scooter and looking at art and of course craft, 49er football and those maligned A’s and just getting started with the NY Times in the morning. We know that nobody under 50 even reads the paper.  

You can say it is all “good” and it is better than being sick or crazy.  But, it is different.  My answer to the above complaining is to try and make everyday the best that it can be. I am less than perfect at that but Kimberly is such a great support and she makes sure that I keep it going.   Here’s to getting the best of everyday. Time for a Scotchola. 

Exercise for the Aged

September 22, 2014

Simon’s Blog

One of my favorite things to do has always involved exercise.  I have been overweight my whole life, but it has rarely gotten in the way of trying to do something active, almost every day. For many years it was tennis and then squash and now once again I am playing tennis at least once every week.  It is such a fun game and challenging, especially as an older person.  I used to play squash or tennis three or four times a week, but today that wouldn’t be possible.  After my current Saturday game, it takes me an afternoon with a short nap to recover and right now while I am awaiting my new hip, it hurts. 

I always thought that if I took up golf, it would be some sort of easy game.  That couldn’t be further from the truth of what happened when I started playing in my early 60s.  It is a hard game, a mind game, a pain game, and I find myself very frustrated with the whole endeavor.  I have now limited myself to a nine-hole game and even at that half level, my concentration stinks.  Still I think that if I had the right attitude, I could enjoy a walk around instead of getting irritated by my own lack of concentration.  For the present, I will ride in a cart, but in general, it is better to walk; it improves the game and makes you more relaxed. 

For many years I tried to do something aerobic everyday.  I would either ride the exercise bike or a hybrid bike on the street or an elliptical machine that works in any kind of weather because it’s inside.  I force myself to do this by watching a sporting event while at the same time playing music at its highest volume, usually Motown. Nothing is more boring than trying to complete 30 to 40 minutes, but the rush when I finish strong sets up a wonderful rush of endorphins and then comes the reward of a good Scotchola. 

Finally, over the years, perhaps the last 30, I have had a trainer either once or twice a week.  I have had good trainers and some not so good but lucky me for the ability to hire someone to motivate me.  Now I have the best trainer I’ve ever experienced, Elias Casolla .  He is relentless and keeps my heart rate up for the entire 50 plus minutes that we work out.  He has improved my mobility, balance, flexibility and I am even pushing more weight than I pushed ten years ago.  In other words, it is not just weight lifting but a whole well rounded program.  I go twice a week and try not to think about it too much for I fear I won’t go. My other great trainer was Achim Albrecht in SF, truly a fine guy and a super trainer; I miss him.

So the downside of all this good physical activity is my appetite.  No matter how much I work out, no matter how good my exercise path, it doesn’t matter.  I can always out eat my exercise.  It really hacks me off.  My lovely brother, Bob, has always been thin, never worried about weight, eats whatever he wants while I have suffered with a thousand diets.  I bet I have lost my entire weight several times on diets that work for a while and then don’t.   Somehow you think that when you get older perhaps you won’t like food as much - that is baloney or steak or something.