In 1978 my then husband had a Mercedes-Benz he wanted to sell. It was a ’75 forest green 450SL in pristine condition and he knew he could get more for it in a private sale than in a trade-in. So he placed an ad in the paper and parked it at his office. He didn’t have long to wait. The very next day he reported back.
“Some guy walked in first thing this morning and bought the car for his vacation house in Palm Springs.”
End of story. But in 1979, when we were in Rancho Mirage buying baby duds for Natasha, he suddenly nudged me and nodded towards another couple in the store. They were accompanied by two cute tow-headed little boys.
“There’s the guy who bought my Mercedes,” he said.
They had spotted us at the same time. “Small world!” was exclaimed by all and the coincidence led the four of us to a dinner date which led to a friendship that lasted until Anne and Noel moved full-time to California and my husband pulled the plug on train-wrecked me.
But the many years we did have together were great. They were a lovely couple- kind and generous- and the chance reunion resulted in a wonderful charity partnership between the blonde, cooly-efficient Anne and myself. We successfully co-chaired many events for Steppenwolf Theatre Company together. I particularly remember one highly-creative ad book, one semi-exciting movie premiere with guest star Richard Gere, (mean, standoffish, bored, but all the while looking like a human Armani poster) and a great party that paired me with Albert Finney as a dinner partner. (Fabulous raconteur. Dishy- in both senses of the word. Down-to-earth. Memorable.)
And Anne and Noel were generous in another way, too. The sale of that car bought one other wonderful lagniappe into my life. The beautiful- both inside and out- Karen.
Anne and Noel and Karen and her husband, Danny, were long-time best friends. (I think three of them had lived in the same apartment complex when they were all still single. Help me out with the backstory here, guys.) In any event, they were a very tight foursome, and it was inevitable that the new friends of Anne and Noel would get to meet the old friends of Anne and Noel one day.
It was 1983. Return of the Jedi. The six of us met up for a movie date. And though the movie was fun and exciting, Danny was more so. See the cartoon that heads up my blog? I’m sure you all recognize Napoleon by now. But long before I ever dreamt of blogging, that’s what I had christened Danny. Napoleon.
Short on stature, long on personality. Full of opinions, feisty, funny, tough, quick, never to be ignored. Even in the dark of that long ago movie theater, he sparkled with electricity. He and I hit it off right away. Our personalities played off one and other and he made me laugh. A sure road to my good books. And he and my husband bonded too- over deals, investments, golf, life- two savvy businessmen sharing a hard-nosed world view.
But my reaction to Karen- also immediate- was very different. From the first moment I saw her, I fell in love. Not just with her face, as lovely as it it is, but with her temperament. She simply radiated goodness. And her mood never varied. She always smiled. Now don’t get me wrong. That is not to say that her life- or any of ours for that matter- has been untouched by problems and challenges. But somehow, Karen remained serene. I have never once seen her angry, testy, piqued or even miffed. She has never been, to my knowledge, even cranky.
And this sweetness of spirit is reflected in her face. It’s beautiful- and not because of creams or potions. Karen’s face shines with an inner glow. It is the mirror of a happy heart. Chaos in a personality like mine is drawn to calm. And her aura drew me like a magnet. I always felt better just by being around her.
Now none of this has anything to do with the fact of her undeniable generosity to me and my causes. Her unwavering support of my endeavors was wonderful and truly appreciated but they were always kind of beside the point. I just reacted viscerally to Karen’s nature. She made me feel tranquil and okay. She was like sunshine for my soul. A balm upon troubled waters. She didn’t have to do or say anything. Just being near her was like a vacation from angst.
I have no explanation as to why I always felt this way. But I bet I’m not the only one. Her husband would agree, I think. And her two great daughters, although, they might tell me that she had- on rare occasion- gotten a teensy bit miffed with them as they grew up. (Maybe.)
And I would guess that her sons-in-law would probably have to second my emotion. I bet they never chime in with the awful mother-in-law jokes. How could they? And she has to be the sweetest grandmother ever. If we all get the face we deserve, Karen got a beauty. And I get to gaze upon it from time to time and feel great myself.
Pretty good deal on a used car, wouldn’t you say?
I second your emotion…they are stand up people and your description of them individually and collectively is spot on!
Absolutely true- and that’s according to a son-in-law’s parents who happen to be our dear dear friends—small wonderful world!
If I remember correctly – your husband (former) never spoke about any ONE of his cars but rather the “fleet” (cars for both of you, your kids, and children from past marriages, etc). Buying and selling of these cars must have been a full time job not to mention all of the new people you met. You probably should put something on some social internet site and ask for all people who ever bought a car from your husband. The list and expanse of this group must be amazing.
Well, modesty was never his strong suit. But I do remember when Nick was a little boy and he was telling someone about all the cars his father had. “He has a Porsche, and a BMW, and a Mercedes, and a Jeep and a…” and before he could finish this guy looked at him incredulously and said,”Sure, kid. And your dad flies to the moon, too, right?” He did NOT believe him. Poor Nick. He started to tell the guy about Bill’s plane but I stepped in and said “What a good imagination!”
Thanks for the suggestion. Read me on Sunday re this topic.
They are lovely people and your tribute is fitting.
What a beautiful tribute to an amazing woman. She’s beautiful inside and out.
(And athough I have seen my share of slightly “cranky” or “miffed” moments, I probably earned them!)
Xoxoxo
Ellen,
Your perfect description of a beautiful person is sooo true. You always seem to nail the goodness of others. Karen is definitely just as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. It is stellar of you to pay her such compliments. Much Deserved!!!!!
One special memory I have of all of us together is sitting in your hospital room in
Aspen after your ski accident. We spent some quality time with them waiting for you to be released. Danny and your humor made the hours more bearable. It was then Karen and I decided to give up skiing. Thanks for the memories!!!!!!
As a matter of fact, I got hurt on Danny’s birthday. He came to the hospital just in time to rescue me from the gurney they had me trapped on for hours. He saw to it that they put me in a room! And all of you helped so much with closing my house and seeing that Nick and I got home on the plane safely. And then you all visited for the next twelve weeks when I was bed-ridden. You might have given up skiing but your attentions made it possible for me to heal and keep at it! Thanks!
Thank you for the beautiful tribute. You have a wonderful way with words
and I have been a fan of your writing since the beginning.
Plus, getting to relive wonderful times through your blog has been great!!!!
How very special – Karen has been without any hesitation my most favorite sister-in-law and friend. No matter what it is – she is there as is Danny. Kind, generous and the most considerate. We do not see each other often, but she and Danny are always in my life and in my heart. Thanks so much for putting it in words – not my strong point.
You put it into words beautifully, Linda. Thanks for the compliment. It was my pleasure.
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