"Human beings are quintessentially object-seeing beings. We can be in vital contact with new love objects through images, stories, music, drama, scientific discoveries. When this happens, our capacity to know has matured.”— Stephen Cope, Soul Friends (Mystic Resonance)

Alan surprised me with an ALLY MCBEAL postcard — Calista Flockhart smiling that signature half-smirk — on which he’d written a few warm words in the wake of Thanksgiving. How fitting, since we’ll soon see her live on stage at the Canon Theater on December 12th.

Alan wrote:

Dear Michael,

I am thankful for our health first, then our relationship and the love that we have for each other and our families. I am thankful for the time and effort we both put in to make sure that we are both happy guys. We had a Happy Thanksgiving ’99. I hope my cold disappears soon because I must seriously train for the L.A. Marathon in March. I really want to compete.

Love,
Alan

And there it was — “Happy guys.” Two words that felt like a manifesto. A promise wrapped in love and humor and long runs along the beach. So it’s decided: we’ll give this marathon thing a whirl.

December 1, 1999

Our State of California Investment Management fee was due mid-month, so I handled it. The more satisfying task, however, was designing our Verona Capital Management Christmas card. I wanted something subtle, stylish — a subliminal nod to our brand, yet personal.

So, Alan and I found a sun-warmed bench near Santa Monica Beach, unfolded our respective periodicals — Fortune Magazine and The New York Times — and posed for what became a perfect shot: two men side by side, reading life, investing in tomorrow.

It wasn’t just a photo; it was us.

December 2, 1999

I listed some vintage Vanity Fair magazines on eBay, curious to see if nostalgia could turn a profit. A woman named Rina came by for the issue with Geena Davis on the cover.

“Something special about this one?” I asked.

She smiled. “Oh, yes — the Courtney Love interview.”

After she left, curiosity got the best of me. I looked up Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain, the tragic arc of their story. Fame, love, addiction — all intertwined. Life is always stranger, and sadder, than its soundtracks. Still, twenty dollars earned, and a story learned.

Lunch was with Herb Braha — an old friend of Alan’s from his bond-trading days — at The Spitfire Grill. Herb has that New York humor that slices through market talk like a warm knife through butter.

That night, we scored early screening passes to Anna and the King at 20th Century Fox Studios — Jodie Foster playing the widowed British schoolteacher. Elegant, restrained, though perhaps not as soft as the role required.

“You are very difficult woman.” — The King
“Only when it matters.” — Anna

December 3, 1999

A day for small but satisfying things. Sold $5,000 in Treasury Bills. Tulio from Alan’s building dropped by to replace a few bulbs — our home, suddenly brighter.  It's those little things that make the day.  I like it when things get fixed.  It makes us happy guys.

Christmas cards started trickling in — one of those Schulz PEANUTS skating scenes from Mom, another from Cousin Patty in Philadelphia, and one from Birda in Alameda, complete with a digital illustration of a bicycle hidden among snowflakes — a wink to our shared love of biking.

For Hanukkah, Alan made potato pancakes that could win awards. Golden, crisp, gourmet. I devoured three.

December 4, 1999

We took our morning walk to the beach — the light was perfect, soft like memory. I snapped a photo of a father and child silhouetted against the surf, and a surfer slicing through the Pacific’s silver sheen.

That night, we went out with Gloria and Jack to see The End of the Affair. It had all the makings of a masterpiece — Graham Greene’s moral tension, postwar gloom, and forbidden love — but somehow fell short.

“You’re a habit I can’t break, and I’m a disease you don’t want to cure.” — Sarah

Beautifully written, yes, but I still only gave it a “B.”

December 5, 1999

Carrie camped out at our place, buried in history notes and snacks. I caught a candid photo of her mid-study; she wasn’t amused, but that’s my modus operandi.

Alan bought tickets for CHER — February 2, 2000. Something to look forward to!

Later, we watched Tuesdays with Morrie on ABC. Jack Lemmon was magnificent — gentle yet devastating.

“The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in.” -Morrie Schwartz

December 6, 1999

We started the morning at the gym — brown rice and smoothie “chillers” afterward. Simple pleasures.

A Costco run, then off to Century City for another early screening: Snow Falling on Cedars, starring Ethan Hawke. Beautifully filmed, a mood piece more than a story. I gave it a “B.”

“Accident rules every corner of the universe except the chambers of the human heart.” — Snow Falling on Cedars

We were happy guys then — not because everything was perfect, but because we understood the art of noticing small perfections: the right light, a postcard, a potato pancake, a line from a film that stays with you long after the credits roll.

And that’s the secret, I think — to stay in vital contact with love objects, as Stephen Cope wrote — not just with people, but with moments.

We were, and still are, learning how to live and be happy guys.

‘He went to the theater as often as possible. He was fascinated by emotion and all the ways it could be falsely induced. He could have been an actor, but he was not.’--Eric Van Lustbader, WHITE NINJA