A Golden Wedding Anniversary...or is it?

We just celebrated our 50th Wedding Anniversary on Jan 14th, 2012 in Athens. We had an amazing time and were surrounded by our kids and close friends here in Athens. We received notes, gifts and well wishes from relatives and the friends we have made over the years from all over the world. It was really a wonderful experience. Our marriage has been an even more wonderful experience. We met at college, Pratt, in 1955. Just writing this makes it sound even more unbelievable, 1955… I was 18 and she was 17, I am 74 now, do the math. My God we have known each other since the beginning of time and been married for 50 of them… we are one week into our next 50th. Here is the minor doubt…when we married in the Three Hierarchs Church in Brooklyn, our usual priest was unable to perform our marriage ceremony due to a family crisis and that day another priest married us instead. No problem… although he did have a problem pronouncing my wife’s first name…Jeannine came out Tsannninnee and variations of that every time he said her name during the service, Sanninee, Tsanni, and even his version of a Greek one. I often wondered if our marriage is actually valid, although on the paperwork, I think it was spelled correct. Hmm, I wonder.

Contraptions and Technology

We are in New York City, having just had my Gamma Knife procedure.

I spent over a month anticipating the procedure, being anxious about some new activity from my tumor. I knew it was going to grow, but not that fast, I should have outlasted its growth. Now, three years post brain surgery we decided on the Gamma Knife treatment.

This is an amazing procedure, slightly misnamed by calling it a knife. It seems the inventor was a surgeon and wanted the reference of a knife. It is non-invasive surgery, though. Two hundred plus, non-lethal, gamma rays come into your head from different directions and focus carefully on the tumor, with all their power, to zap it and delay any re-growth. This is really super futuristic stuff! Something is affected, even removed from your skull without any seemingly outside intervention, science-fiction stuff, remember the Hulk…that was Gamma rays.

Before all this high-tech stuff, it is necessary to have an MRI so they can see the exact position of the tumor. Now the weird stuff starts, they have to put a contraption on your head so you can keep the same position during the MRI and later when they radiate your tumor. Accuracy is very important. The last thing you want to do is miss.

You are in the midst of one of the highest tech kind of medical procedures in the world; really 22nd century stuff…suddenly your neurosurgeon and an assistant approach you with something that looks like a Civil War relic. A metal cage type thing, that seems to have been made by an amateur blacksmith, which is supposed to be screwed on to your head.

I am given a sedative and some Novocain as well as my favorite, a medical lollypop, and then my neurosurgeon starts acting like a mechanic and screws this cage on to my head…yes I did say screws it on, into my skull. It seems to me that something a little less primitive could be developed to hold my head steady so that the Gamma rays hit the tumor accurately.

During the procedure I had a 4-hour wait with this contraption on my head, between MRI, calculation of the rays and then the actual Gamma knife procedure. I was part of three patients that were scheduled for the procedure. I was to go last since my tumor was near my left optic nerve and they required a little more time to prepare. Needless to say I got bored and made a paper mustache to wear on my rig. It seemed to have made a difference to some of the somberness that existed in the ward. Paper mustaches will do it every time.

This was an incredible experience. I am sure they got it. We will have confirmation in about 3 months when I have an MRI to check on the condition of the tumor, but I feel very optimistic. Let’s face it, if it still is there, we come back and do it again…by then the “contraption” will be redesigned and be comfortable as well as light and not have to be screwed on. And maybe it will come with a mustache!

Mr. Chow’s…great food, great chairs

It was the 60’s in London; the Americans are here, at least in the ad business…also the film business.

The only time the two American communities met was in Hyde Park on Sunday mornings.

There was a softball field reserved for Americans, a reward I think for something we did a while back.

Every Sunday there was a soft ball game played by the movie guys, we came to watch, at least I never saw the ad guys playing ball.

The film being made in England at the time always determined the players.

The best game I saw was when the film “The Dirty Dozen” was being made.
Everybody was there that morning, including Mohamed Ali; I think he was still Cassius Clay then. A great day, a good game, then the Sunday ritual continued, across the road to Mr. Chows in Knightsbridge.

Mr. Chows was a popular restaurant and very“ trendy,” a nice 60’s word. Trattorias were very popular in London during the 60’s, so were Chinese restaurants, Michael Chow combined the two, Italian waiters serving Chinese food made by Chinese cooks, both groups were very vocal and emotional and could not understand each other which made for the basic entertainment of the place, lots of yelling and arm waving in short bursts.

Sunday Lunch was the ritual, we would go after the game with some friends and our young son for a great lunch, and every table had various members of the film and ad community. The really famous and the ones that thought we were famous, remember it was London in the 60’s.

Food as usual was terrific and we never found out what that fried green stuff was, seaweed, parsley, still have no idea. Everyone enjoyed the drama of watching a Chinese chef make fresh noodles in front of us all with flair and abandon. The Italian waiters did their little number blaming the Chinese cooks about something or other, lots of checking out the real celebrities…a normal Sunday lunch.

We had invited our group to our house later that afternoon for “ TEA”, our version of it…a bit English, a bit American…and maybe slightly Greek.

I suddenly realized that we didn’t really have any chairs that we liked around our Eames table at home. I always liked the chairs in Mr. Chow, Michael, the owner was there and I asked him where he got his bentwood chairs, and he said Czechoslovakia, or maybe Romania and laughed.

He told me he had some in the basement, about 50 extra ones…that was all I needed to know. Negotiations started.

“ Michael I need 6, I need them now.”
“ I can’t sell my chairs.”
“ Come on Michael…we invited people over for tea.”

20 minutes more and we agreed…I think I paid nine pounds a chair.

The chairs were cheaper than lunch for six.
We had all come in my R type Bentley, it was London in the 60’s after all.

I told the doorman to get a cab for us; we loaded the chairs in the cab and told him to follow us.
Off we went, six people in my Bentley and six chairs in a cab following us.

We still have those chairs, they have traveled the world with us and now my daughter has them.

When you go to a restaurant and you like the food, look around maybe there is something else you want to take home with you.

Take out chairs…I have to try it again, there is a Greek taverna with terrific chairs near us, come to think of it the tables aren’t so bad either.





http://www.hydeparksoftball.com/5.html

"X" marks the spot

Three years ago they found a benign tumor in my skull just above my sinus cavity.

I had three options, wait and see what happens (not for me),
We could have major surgery, going in from the top of my skull, removing the entire tumor,
Or, slightly less invasive, cut over the eyebrow and go in from the side and get as much as you can.

We chose the 3rd option knowing that it would eventually grow back but it would not be a problem in my lifetime.

It is growing, faster than we thought it would, damn thing is not going to beat me.

I have been having MRIs periodically and they showed that it is growing slightly faster than expected.

Before it becomes what it originally was, and would require invasive surgery again, there is something that can be done.

Gamma Knife seems to be the answer, non invasive in spite of the knife in the name. It is a focused controlled radiation treatment…they zap it out evidently. It has to be accurate and really on target otherwise it destroys stuff it is not supposed to.

I have been reading about it and it seems to be a remarkable procedure.
I spoke to my surgeon’s assistant and asked about timings, since it will be done in the States. She said your appointment is the 8th the procedure is the 10th and you can fly back to Greece on the 12th. Pretty amazing stuff. Needless to say we will stay in NY a little longer, just in case he missed.

I had a pretty incredible experience before we found all this out.

I sent my MRIs to my surgeon in the States.

He emailed me on Saturday the 10th of Sept, the weekend of the 10th anniversary of 9/11.
That in it self was amazing, he also emailed the surgeon he recommended for the Gamma Knife surgery.
His email included all my MRIs. It is now Sunday and the other surgeon is answering, discussing my case with my original surgeon.

The secretary is sending me copies of everything to keep me informed, everything is decided, when, where, the works-and this is the weekend of the 9/11th anniversary.

I am awed by their commitment and dedication.
It still knocks me out.
These people are incredible.
I have to admire the commitment they have to their work.

Thank heavens they are my guys.

Pop's store

This started out as a description of my Father’s store in Coney Island. It will change I think, as I go along.

The store, the Paradise ice cream parlour, was in Coney Island, on Surf Ave. 1604 next to the RKO Tilyou,
across from Steeplechase Park, between west 16th and 17th street.

We lived around the corner on Mermaid Ave., whoever named the avenues in Coney Island was a genius, Surf Ave, Mermaid Ave, and finally Neptune Ave.

The store burned down in the 50’s, I remember Pop told me that he saved my prize Schwinn Phantom bike, and not to worry about it.

Pop was a classic candy maker. As a young immigrant he was apprenticed to some relative in Massachusetts, who taught him the craft.

He made his own ice cream and chocolates that we sold by weight.

It was also a luncheonette; we came straight from school to the store, it was home for us. Mom and Pop never left the store alone from 9 am until midnight or later. We did have an hour or two at six o’clock in the evening when we all had dinner together at home.

The store was open 7 days a week 365 days a year; my parents never took a vacation together. The Paradise was the center of our lives. My sisters who were older than me worked there after school and weekends as waitresses, I was too young, but I did wear an apron and acted like I worked there.

Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving we had Santas, rabbits, Easter eggs, and turkeys made from chocolate, obviously the appropriate ones for each holiday. Mom decorated them with jellybeans for eyes and decorative frosting, and then wrapped them in yellow cellophane. It was a family event.

We would watch Pop make them and take them out of the molds while hoping one would break so my friends and I could have some chocolate.

If none broke Pop would break one saying it was “no good” so we could eat it, he never acknowledged that it was a perfect one he broke for us.

The store had double doors, display windows on either side in front; there they would show the different candies and seasonal displays.

When you got inside, there was a marble counter on the left with 10 or 12 stools. That is where you got sodas, ice cream sundaes even coffee and pie or some sandwiches. There were usually two old Greeks sitting at the end of the counter having coffee, the typical Greek thing anywhere in the world.

On the right was the cash register and long display cases with the different candies, some in boxes as well as loose ones…at the cash register, near the exit where you paid your bill; you could also buy cigarettes and cigars.
I think we sold cigars since Pop was a cigar smoker: I started to smoke by stealing cigars from the display case, White Owls as a matter of fact.

After the counter we had the booths, 6 on either side as well as 5 on either side in the center, an island of 10 booths, 22 booths in all.

We even had a phone booth in the back and the rest rooms.

Just before the booths began, we had an amazing juke-box, Pop thought it would help business, all it seemed to do was make the waitresses dance around.

I remember, “Shrimp boats are a comin”, by Guy Mitchell, shows you my musical tastes.

Beyond all that we had the kitchen, there was a wood burning fire to melt the chocolate in a bain-marie set up.

This was where all the great chocolates were made on long marble counters, were he poured the melted chocolate to cool.

It was an amazing room, it smelled great, and it was dark and moody, just like chocolate.

The chocolate came in twenty-pound slabs from Nestle in Switzerland.

My connection with Nestle remained for 40 more years. They were a client of McCann’s and I did ads for them in eight countries. I wonder what Pop would have made of that. I guess I am a sort of candy maker as well, at least a candy ad maker.

I still am reminded of Pop’s great candies when I have a piece of dark chocolate.

The overall feeling of the store was classic, small tile floors, probably had the Greek key design border, pressed tin ceilings, hanging fans, booths made of dark wood, marble counters, decorative display cases, beveled mirrors…very art nouveau, and even a couple of tiffany type lamps.

Some relatives, even older than me if that is possible, have confirmed this description.

Now here comes the problem…I remember the store pretty well, I also thought I remembered Pop’s sign, a big hanging neon sign.

Evidently when I found this photo of the street, it seems my memory was a little off; the movie house sign was mistaken in my mind for my fathers sign. Pop’s was a little more discreet, still pretty big…but not the monster I drew.

I guess we remember things better or sometimes even worse than what they really are.

A New York Deli...in Tokyo?

In 1970 I was sent to our Tokyo office for three months to fill in as Creative Director.
A short time in an amazing place and we have some great memories.

Japan was full of contrasts, just as something made sense and you thought you understood it
…everything changed.

While there a friend asked me if I wanted a pastrami on rye and an egg cream. This may seem like a normal question in New York but not too normal in downtown Tokyo.

I am a kid from Brooklyn, a pastrami on rye sounded great, so where do we get it in Tokyo?

He was an expat and lived in Tokyo for years, if anybody knew where, he certainly did. He took me to a typical street and we entered a building that led to a typical NY deli.

Surly, sarcastic waiters that were Japanese, that in itself was pretty odd.
Corned beef and pastrami in the showcases, rye bread and mustard on display, soda machines and behind it all was Ann Dinkins.
She was a flamboyant woman from New York, maybe even Brooklyn; at least that is what her accent told me.

It turns out, she came to Japan years ago with her husband as an expat, he had died and she remained in Japan. She was very much at home there and decided to make herself even more at home, she opened a deli.
To give it the right atmosphere, Ann trained the waiters to be sarcastic and surly and at times I thought they even had a NY Jewish accent. They would sigh and say” oy vey.”

She told me it was good for business and there was no staff turnover, due to their attitude, they could not get jobs anywhere else.
There is not a great deal of demand in Japan for sarcastic waiters. Good job Ann.

Ann also had the exclusive rights to import meats to Japan; it seems the royal family liked pastrami.

Just one of the bizarre things we enjoyed in Japan in 1970.

Today there is a NY deli, but it is in Disneyland Japan, I bet there are no sarcastic waiters there.

It just is not Ann Dinkins.

Extracting the urine or taking the piss

I like the expression “ extracting the urine”.

I have a friend, a Greek that lived in London for over 40 years,
Instead of saying taking the piss, he says, “ extracting the urine.”
Sounds like a classy way to say that I am bullshitting.

I have a tendency to make stuff up; I suppose it is lying, although I see it as creative and enjoy doing it.

The lies are like, Columbus was Greek, the turkey is an indigenous Greek bird, you can swim after you eat if you ate seafood, stuff like that, not really nasty lies, fun lies.

They are mostly entertaining not harmful. I am about to tell you how to do it; there is a basic simple rule.
All great lies, bullshit, crazy stories, have to have a basis of truth. A germ of truth gets people nodding their heads and sort of accepting the rest, no matter how preposterous, as a matter of fact, the wilder the better.

Don’t swim after you eat…it is ok if you eat seafood, simple version.

Columbus was from the island of Chios, sounds crazy, until you say Chios was part of the kingdom of Genoa, since we have heard that Genoa was the home of Columbus all our lives. Hmmm, could be true.

Turkeys are from Greece and were taken the new world by Columbus, why would one of the best Greek wines, Hadjemichalis use a turkey as his logo if it was not an indigenous bird. I actually know why, so do not write me and tell me why. Also it is called a turkey by mistake since Chios is close to Turkey.

Although one of my favorites is that the famous cold cut Armenian store in Athens, sells great vanilla ice cream.
No touch of truth to make it more acceptable, just a very trusting target. This does not happen often, so you really need a touch of truth normally.

So if you want to make stuff up, it is fun, remember the basics: a touch of truth to make it slightly more logical, and a convincing presentation. You sort of have to believe it yourself, convince yourself, before you can convince others.

As you all know, the ostrich is from the Argolida.