August 19, 2021
I once had a friend named George who knew alot about alot. I\’ve been threatening to write about him for years now and since this is the last installment of The Inn (recall that I am going to try something else) — I felt that I had better fulfill my promise in this, the finale of 14 years of musings.
If you ever had any questions about California history that required answering — George could supply you with the answers — from the Owens Lake fiasco down to the development of Baldwin Hills. Heck, he even informed me that Huntington Beach was nothing but oil wells back-in-the-day. I didn\’t believe him until I saw a photograph of a forest of oil wells.
George also knew his geography…not only did he point out the highest mountain on the US mainland (Mt. Whitney) but he knew that the \”other\” mountain vying for this honor didn\’t quite make it. George also knew exactly how the San Andreas fault wound its way through the Golden State and the volcanic activity that produced our famous hot springs.
As an athlete (swimmer and skier) — George knew about the human body like no one else I\’ve ever talked with (except Son Austen). His intricate knowledge may have been a by-product of his research on gout (George contended with gout at an earlier age than the rest-of-us-did).
For instance, George also cautioned me about sitting with legs extended and crossed — saying that it would cause hip problems later on. Sure enough, I had double hip replacement. He also told me that I shouldn\’t wear the classic flip flops (that model that isolates the big toe): particularly when your 2nd toe is longer than your big toe. Sure enough — I have osteoarthritis in both feet.
And, Boy did he know his wines and liquors and liqueurs (which had certainly contributed to his gout)…
Before I met George, I was nothing but a jug wine drinker…I bought allotta Carlo Rossi burgundy. The only California 750ml wine we would get in Michigan was Sutter Home — which was considered a high end wine by jug drinking standards.
George fostered my love for reds and exposed me to a number of red varietals that got my nose glowing and probably contributed to my rosacea. I never would have tried port and exotic brandies on my own — but I learned that there is a certain time of the night for both to be imbibed. Do I suffer from gout? That\’s debatable.
I\’ll never forget the night Scarborough Fair played on the radio. I, like many people were singers of the first verse only. George informed me that there were four verses and that the song was a dialog between two lovers — not just one opining after another.
George pointed out Manzanar to me on our trips up to Mammoth and informed me that there had been concentration camps (prisons?) for Germans in the U.S. Well before I saw Schindler\’ List — George told me about the Jewish slave labor utilized by the VW car manufacturing company during WWII.
Perhaps one of the most mind boggling experiences I\’ve ever had was seeing the The Pageant of the Masters with George. Tony the Tiger was still the MC! Amazing stuff!!
And in today\’s Times was an obituary on one B. Wayne Hughes Sr., a billionaire who is perhaps USC\’s biggest donor of all time. George had told me that Hughes\’ business of Public Storage funded all sorts of \’SC activities which I was reminded of today. And then I remembered George telling me that the \’SC cheerleaders and song girls were not as well endowed as they seemed to be — and it was the special construction of their sweaters that augmented their anatomy…
I could go on and on about the knowledge this man possessed — but after penning the foregoing — I have come to the realization of something about our relationship: we both had an affinity for used cars — which finally pushed a wedge between us (among other dynamics).
And as I look back down Memory Lane — I realize that as much as I tried to be a great used car salesman — George was a much better used car salesman than I was — and invariably got the better end of the deal. But by god he taught me alot — including how to cut my losses…
Who knew?