“Preoccupation with the bowel seems to be the concern of a significant proportion of our population.”   Prior to 7000 B.C., man was nomadic, a hunter-gatherer, existing primarily on a diet of fibrous root vegetables, grains and berries.  A high fiber diet.  This had been his ancestors’ menu for tens of thousands of years.  It was the only diet the human stomach experienced, and that the stomach and intestines were experienced in handling.  Then, man settled down to farming.  Living off the meat of his cattle, and their milk, he shocked the human bowel with a high-fat, lower-fiber diet.  Ever since people have been troubled by irregular bowel function. --PANATI’s Extraordinary Origins of Everyday Things 

I received a postcard this month from my cousin, Sandra Donald.  She wrote: 

Dearest Cousin, 

The heat index has reached 115° — it is HOT in this non-air-conditioned building. I can’t wait till fall comes around so I can keep up with my walking. I have gained some weight that’s difficult to lose. I’ve been praying for my release to come soon. My Brother, Oscar retired, and he says his wife, Elsie, will retire within a few months. 

Thanks for lighting up my life! I couldn’t stop smiling and it felt so good. I called everyone to share. Be sweet, cousin — you are much appreciated! 

Warmest love & prayers, 
From your loving cousin, 
Sandra 

I was also happy to receive a card from Patty Shmaruk (married to Alan's cousin, Ricky) who I had a sweet connection while in New York for Alan’s cousin’s wedding recently.  She sent a photo of me with her and another with her daughter, Jackie.  There was another and I gave that one to Lauren, Alan’s daughter.  The photos were quite sweet to see and relive. She wrote few words, but I especially loved the card titled BOCCA BACIATA which means LIPS THAT HAVE BEEN KISSED.  It depicts a British painting by Dante Gabriel Rossetti.  The original painting is held at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.  I’d love to go there one day. 

Hi Michael— 

These are the pictures that I promised to send you. There is one of Jackie & Lauren that Jackie would like you to give her, thanks! 

I hope all is well, and you are having a great summer! Say hello to everyone! Hope to see you soon — looking forward to your e-mail.   

Fondly,

Patty

 

August 31, 1999 
There’s something about a morning workout at the Le Parker Meridien gym that sets the tone — Manhattan, New York was humming outside the windows, your muscles waking to the rhythm of the city.  

Alan and I met up with Annabelle there, and we shared a laugh over recent tenant updates at 66 Leonard. So far, things were going quite well.  Annabelle is the real estate agent for the sale of the condominiums in the building; whereby, we are purchasing this condo.   

Later, we had brunch in the West Village with Paul and Lauren that felt like a scene from a Woody Allen film — charming streets, conversation laced with sarcasm, and a basket of bread that disappeared far too quickly. Lauren shot Paul a look as he reached for the last slice — she was visibly annoyed at his pot belly and even more so at his unapologetic eating habits. It was oddly endearing in its own dysfunctional way.  Paul is her best friend at New York University.  He’s from New York but a bit more upstate—not the city itself. 

The afternoon brought a surprise: we arranged a meeting with Alberto Andrade at the St. Regis Bar — a familiar face from The Golden Door retreat. Over two bottles of Sonoma-Cutrer, conversation flowed as easily as the Chardonnay. Familiarity has a way of loosening time’s grip.  He loves working at the Rennaissance Hotel in Times Square as General Manager. He’s got a great comradery type of personality that works well with guests. 

September 1, 1999 

Photo: Anna Torv, when married to Rupert Murdoch, divorced June 8,1999

Right before our opulent dinner with Jaan Torv (brother of Anna Torv, and Anna is the ex-wife of media mogul, Rupert Murdoch) at The Oceana — a meal that ended with a bill north of $400 (yes, really) — I found myself swept up in an unshakable sense of being “buzzed.” Whether it was from wine, energy, or the city itself, I couldn’t quite tell. 

Jaan is a cool guy but he’s a bit too daring as we experienced in Jamaica when he chartered that mini fisherman’s boat that was too rough of a ride.  He also drinks a bit too much scotch whiskey—not a good thing.  His daughter, Anna Torv (named after his sister), wants to be an actress.  

The following day, we met Annabelle, the realtor for our new condo, at 66 Leonard Street in Tribeca again, where Margaret Cohn also joined (Alan’s personal real estate agent).  She’s a bit bewildering—not sure if I like her much yet.  Time will tell. Margaret invited us later for a drink at the Carlyle Hotel bar — because in New York, no day is truly over until it’s been capped by a cocktail in a place with live piano. 

From there, we met Ann Marie and Elliott Rosenzweig (Alan’s first cousin) for dinner at Trattoria Dell’Arte on 57th and 7th Avenue. They urged us to consider Capri for our upcoming Italy trip — passionate advocates for its charm. But as Alan says, our trips are already “a whole other scene.” We won’t be changing our plans. 

They offered us a taste of Limoncello, direct from Capri — a sweet and powerful liqueur that lingered long after the glass was empty. Ann Marie’s photos and trip might make headlines but trust me — nothing compares to my writings in my journal.  Ha-ha 

September 2, 1999 

I returned to the gym inside the Le Parker Meridien Hotel. The U.S. Open was in full swing, and many players were staying at our hotel—we bumped into a few on the elevator, but we couldn’t identify them as we weren’t in the tennis loop.  

We arranged for Candice (Alan’s stepsister) to join us for breakfast at Norma’s, where the oatmeal and coffee tasted especially good against the backdrop of tennis legends. 

Lunch was with Alan Shmaruk at a place called COSI’s. I may have overdone it with the mayo on my sandwich, but conversation made up for any culinary guilt. 

That evening, we took Lauren and her new beau, Mike Roth, to see the Gipsy Kings at Madison Square Garden. The performance was electric—though far too short. Mike is a refined and striking gentleman. I genuinely hope Lauren sticks with this one. 

September 3, 1999 

Alan and I did our share of walking—Central Park, of course, but also the subway down to Coney Island and onward to Brighton Beach. We explored the Russian Jewish Ghetto, and for a moment, I felt transported to another country. The immersion was unexpected and moving. 

September 4, 1999 
I made it to the gym once more before the night took a fascinating turn. We had dinner with Dan Cuevas at Cipriani in SoHo.  He’s a major designer in West Hollywood, California and like Alberto==we also met him at The Golden Door Spa near San Diego.   Alan, ever the charmer, struck up rapport with the waiter and manager — laying groundwork, perhaps, for future VIP access to the upcoming Cipriani Rainbow Room. 

After dinner, Dan whisked us to SPLASH, the famed gay nightclub, for a 90-minute dance marathon. But the evening wasn’t over.  We didn’t dance.  We just hung out by the bar and watched a bit.  Gay bars are beyond the ‘Alan and Michael’ realm these days, but it was a fun outing—but we had no idea what Dan had in store for us next. 

Dan insisted we check out the GAIETY Theater — a Manhattan legend. He especially wanted to take us because we said we'd never been there not had we heard of it. Alan and I both looked at one another like, “What’s the gaiety?”  Well, it’s a little side-step sliver of a place in the Times Square Theater district. We took a taxi there from the SPLASH bar.  One by one, a parade of young male dancers took the stage, each more sculpted and fearless than the last—they danced and stripped to complete nakedness, some with a full hard-on at the end of their act. A man named Ray left the entire room breathless. RIPPED was an understatement.  That was a jaw dropper—but we couldn’t wait to get OUT.  Afterwards, Dan took us to the back room (a VIP area I suppose) where you could meet the talent so-to-speak.  Dan says you could probably take one of them home for about $300.  It’s a whole other world unbeknownst to us.  I guess one must have a ‘New York state of mind’.  

It’s the feeling — the pulse of the city, the spontaneity of old friends and new faces, and the unapologetic wonder of a life well-lived. New York gave me a thousand little moments in those few days. And I, in return, gave it my attention, my laughter, and this record — page by page.  If you think about something all the time, you come to various conclusions. 

Upon our return to Los Angeles (we had a 5PM flight from JFK, arriving LAX at around 8PM on Sunday, September 5th.   Tomorrow, September 6th is mom’s 64th Birthday. I had five postcards waiting for me from my cousin, Edna, who sent them from Santa Fe, NM:  

Postcard 1 – Taos Pueblo, New Mexico 

Hi Michael! 
Wow, here it is — I thought the summer was moving quickly and I find myself with time to write — Ha-ha.  I don’t know if I mentioned it the last time I wrote, but we hosted three Korean students for three weeks who are on the Korean Connection Six-Week Demonstration team. They spoke about five words of English, and we spoke five words of Korean! 

Postcard 2 – Oldest Church in U.S.A., Santa Fe, New Mexico 

My Michael really likes his class at the SF Community College. 
Teresa is working another temporary stint of work with the State. Rickie is into a Star Wars phase and getting set at school. He just completed a kid’s college course that he enjoyed. 

I just interviewed for a part-time position with the N.M. Appellate Court as a mediator assistant. I figured it is something worth doing that I feel good at — and can get better at. Before the interview I wasn’t sure about it, but it sure sounded interesting. 

Postcard 3 – Palace of the Governors, Santa Fe, New Mexico 

The latest exciting scoop? 

Nancy Garcia from Redoux (Antonia Garcia’s daughter) was surprised by a bear in her house around the 4th of July! She told me she was frightened at first but immediately realized she needed to leap into action because her son was in the shower. I’m sure that was an adrenaline high! 

Postcard 4 – Santuario de Chimayo, Chimayo, New Mexico 

I’ve enjoyed going to Balloon Fiesta in Albuquerque several times. It’s always a must in my planning of annual activities. 
By the way, “The forno” featured in #1 postcard was not a Native American creation, but it was brought into New Mexico by the Moors and the Spanish. 

Postcard 5 – Seventh-day Adventist Seminary, Zaokski, Russia 

Just in case you didn’t know — I learned things when I was a tour guide for El Rancho De Las Golondrinas Living Museum.  

I don’t have to babysit Consuelo today, so I think I’ll start brainstorming about what to do for the day while Rickie is still sleeping. 

By the way — you are my favorite cousin because you take time to keep in touch. That says a lot! 

P.S. Let me know if you are ever free to come up to Santa Fe — maybe we can do the same tour route. 

‘What a distant memory, he thought, and he wondered where it came from, and what it meant that NOW was the moment of its remembering.’--Daniel Mason, in his book THE PIANO TUNER