Now You See It…
This weekend was family weekend for us here in New York. On Friday we warmed up by going for our annual holiday party at The Metropolitan Club. This is an annual event put on by our friends Alan and Nancy Zakon, who make their home in Key Largo, Florida, but keep their Metropolitan Club membership for their visits to New York City. I worked briefly in the mid-1990’s with Alan, who had spent a career as the head of a big consulting firm. We were somewhat friendly in those days, but he was hired to “help out” in our private banking efforts as a senior advisor by my then-deputy in that business. Since then and via these annual gatherings he and Nancy are kind enough to invite us to join, we have become good friends. These holiday gatherings are a don’t miss thing for us because its my one chance to stay in touch with a group of old Bankers Trust pals who worked with me in the Camelot days of banking. The other reason we like going is that it is our one “high-class” holiday party. The Metropolitan Club is such a lovely venue. It represents the New York I never chose to be a part of, the Fifth Avenue high-falutin part of New York that I wouldn’t want to be a part of, but which is fun to visit once a year. As an interesting side-note, the Club also owes a big part of its heritage to Statin Island, where the wealthy like the Vanderbilts came from.
When Nancy found out that we are closing our NYC apartment and moving to San Diego, she told us we should join the Club (she said it is very reasonable for an out-of-towner). While I have no idea what Nancy considers reasonable, I don’t think we will try to find out. We love the Club, but I don’t think I could bring myself to join. I am already a longtime member of the Cornell Club on 44th, where I can get pretty much any of the amenities (other than grandeur) that an out-of-towner would need from a NYC club. I recently wrote a piece about a visit to the University Club, another of the grand clubs on Fifth Avenue, so I won’t repeat my tirade about elitism and exclusionary clubs. Suffice it to say that I will obviously visit an elitist club, but I will stop short of joining an elitist club. No, I don’t consider a club like the Cornell Club to be either elitist or exclusionary. You have to be a graduate or have some affiliation to the University, but since most anyone can seek employment at Cornell and thereby gain admittance to the club, I am OK with those standards of membership. And when you compare the simple refinement of the Cornell Club to the much fancier Harvard, Yale or Penn Clubs, you would not come away thinking the Cornell Club was a high-falutin in the least. I think of the club as the Hampton Inn of university clubs.
Saturday was a day we set aside for my children and our annual pre-Christmas gathering. In order to give my first wife, Mary, free reign on Christmas, years ago I started to do a pre-Christmas with the kids. Over the years we added Thomas (third son) and Charlotte and Evelyn (granddaughters) and then we added back Mary, her boyfriend Art, her sister Toni and Thomas’ mother, Carol. So, this is now an official modern family pre-Christmas gathering. We started the day with a chartered Sprinter van ride up to Bryant Park Grill for a holiday lunch. We had a few minutes to spare and we used it to wedge our way through the excessive crowds at the Bryant Park Christmas Market. It was almost a pleasure to get back into the Sprinter to relax as we headed to the Neil Simon Theater for a special holiday performance of The Illusionists. This magic show was son Roger’s idea since he finds regular Broadway shows too boring. I agreed to keep the peace but was pleasantly surprised at how much fun the magic show was. It’s amazing how in this day and age of modern digital CGI and simulation, a simple magic act (or more precisely six different acts) can be so entertaining.
The main event of the day was back at our apartment, so we headed back in the Sprinter van for our annual buffet dinner, Christmas cookie extravaganza and present exchange. Our apartment is the smallest space we have ever done this in, but it just fit for the fourteen of us plus Kristoffer, our loyal caterer friend. The fare was, by design, very much to my liking with mini Croque Monsieur’s, cranberry meatballs, deviled eggs and salad with festive lettuce that looked like watermelon slices. We are a typical American family that greatly overdoes the holiday gift exchange tradition. This is especially so since this is only a pre-Christmas and not yet the real thing. We all say its mostly for the kids, but its mostly really for all of us. At least Kim and I are over trying to buy each other gifts…sort of. Nowadays, we just buy something for ourselves and say to the other that this should be considered our gift to one another. It works fine for us and on a day like Saturday there are enough gifts and wrapping paper to go around anyway.
The dynamic of this gathering is delightful and high spirited. We are all family one way or another. I am not at all intimidated by having two ex-wives in attendance since we all parted amicably and treat each other with high respect. I also enjoy having Art and Toni as extended family and enjoy getting updated with each of them. I enjoy hearing how Art is managing his retirement. I enjoy hearing how Toni is managing all the hordes of memorabilia she has inherited by virtue of living in her parents’ old home. There is never any lack of fun things to talk about. This year I stumbled on something that lit up Toni like I have rarely seen. I reminded her of her love of dancing when she competed in her youth in dance competitions. For some strange reason, this seems to be something she has kept private (or so she thought). Since I know she reads my stories, I know she will read this and gasp that I am writing about it. I want her to know how much we all love her and love her amazement at simple things. Toni, it is OK for you to love dancing and for you to have participated in dance competitions when you were young. It is a good thing to keep joy in life and dancing clearly brought you joy. Despite what anyone may have told you, everyone has the right to seek happiness.
That is my bottom-line message about a weekend like this. It is the simplest of pleasures that bring the greatest joy. And this annual pre-Christmas gathering is the height of heart-warming joy for me. I am already thinking about where we will hold the gathering next year. I’m pretty sure it will not be at the Metropolitan Club, but it may well have to be at the Cornell Club. That will make sense since five of us are Cornell graduates and everyone else in the group has been subjected to lots and lots of Cornell over the years. We may not do another magic show, but let’s face it, this time of year is magic no matter what. These gatherings will continue for as long as possible, for like life, now you see it…