Letter From Elba Announcement: Dear Readers, I am taking a short hiatus. The blog will return on Sunday, October 4. Have a great couple of weeks. I’m going to.
Okay, back to our regularly-scheduled blog post.
See that guy on the left in the top photo? His name is Richard Zisook and he’s a builder and real estate developer here in Chicago. In fact, he’s the “Z” in SANDZ Development Company. (His partner Mike Supera is the “S.”)
I have known Ricky forever. Good guy, quick to laugh, intrepid skier/snowboarder. In fact, I’ll forever be indebted to him because he was responsible for getting us all out to Snowmass in the winter.
He’s kind, philanthropic and – at the promptings of his better half- the host with most. A pillar of the community and a credit to his people.
And he is always late.
This tiny character flaw in a character as genial as Ricky may not seem like that big of a deal.
But it’s a quirk that would have driven me to drink if I was married to him.
(Forgive my presumption, Ricky and Lil. Trust me. I have a million reasons why Ricky would never want to be married to me.)
But as you can see in the photo above, RZ and LAZ have found true wedded bliss with three great kids and three adorable granddaughters. They have probably agreed to disagree about this one… let’s call it a short-coming.
I mean, nobody’s perfect, right?
But when it comes to promptness, I am.
I can not bear to be late. In fact, if I’m not early, call the morgue.
I’m dead.
Promptness is the courtesy of kings. If time is money, I’m a zillionaire.
I’m not sure how or why the “on time delivery” gene gets activated. I do know that it must be passed on to future generations because both my kids have it.
(Natasha has it to such an extent that if we’re scheduled to meet at 10:00 a.m. you can bet the farm that she will arrive at 10:00:00. Nick, a little more loosey-goosey, will show up anywhere from 10:00 to 10:05.)
I’m glad they can be counted on. Being late drives me BONKERS.
I know just how these guys feel.
But back in the day, Ricky was famous for his total disregard of the clock. It was so often and so epic that it had a kind of grandeur about it. Marilyn Monroe had nothing on Ricky.
There was greatness to his lateness.
Lil used to try and compensate for this by giving him false information when it came to important start times. She didn’t actually set the clocks ahead like King Edward VII but I bet she was tempted.
Historic British Sidebar: Good old Bertie did this to create more daylight hunting hours. Contrary to myth, the poor distracted king did not start it to compensate for his ever- en retard queen, Alexandra. But no matter. The clocks at the royal estate of Sandringham were all set one half hour ahead of Greenwich Mean Time.)
I think Lil had to embroider the times by at least one hour to make sure that Ricky would show up while the event or dinner date was still going on.
And sometimes even that little prevarication wasn’t enough to outwit Ricky-Come-Lately.
But what goes around comes around and in 1994 Fate stepped in.
I had a chance for payback.
Bill, Lil and I were scheduled to meet Ricky downtown for an early dinner at the Italian Village.
Then it would be on to the theater for a night with Petulia Clark in the musical Blood Brothers.
As Ricky was already downtown, we would take the train in and he would drive us home.
(Hey, I couldn’t resist.)
Hard to believe now, but this was the dark ages before iPhones. So Lil, Bill and I chatted merrily away as we rode the Northwestern in to the city.
And then, all of a sudden, there was an unearthly screeching of train brakes and the sound of something metallic being dragged along the tracks.
The train came to a shuddering and very unscheduled stop and we just stared at each other in wonder.
We didn’t have to wonder long.
A conductor came through the car and informed us passengers that a man on a bicycle had just been killed by the train and we were now a crime scene. Nothing and no one was moving until the cops and the fire department investigated and gave the ok.
Needless to say, the time crawled as we were trapped in that train car.
With no way to reach Ricky and tell him what had happened to us.
Finally, with the help of emergency crews, we were evacuated out of the stranded killer train and put into a cab, I think.
But by the time we got to the restaurant, we were almost two hours late.
But none of us felt all that guilty.
And Ricky?
He was feeling no pain.
Bored and tired of waiting for us, he had thrown down more than a few cocktails.
He was smashed.
We went into giggles as we (semi) apologized for our unscheduled derailment.
“Geez, if I had only known,” Ricky moaned. “I wanted to order the Chicken Vesuvio but the waiter told me it would take thirty minutes and I didn’t want to be late.”
Giggles gave way to full-on hysterics.
Revenge is a dish best eaten cold.
(Unlike Chicken Vesuvio.)
So Lili Ann and Ricky, a happy anniversary to you both, my dear friends.
And Ricky, if you have cleaned up your act and your arrivals are no longer overdue, I sincerely apologize.
Better late than never.
Ellen et al., here’s a joke to wake up with:
After waiting more than an hour and a half for her date, the young lady decided she had been stood up. She changed from her dinner dress into pajamas and slippers, fixed some popcorn and resigned herself to an evening of TV. No sooner had she flopped down than the doorbell rang, and there stood her date. He took one look at her and gasped, “I’m two hours late . . . and you’re still not ready?”
Good one, George. Very timely.
Ellen, my Dad has the on time gene also. You can set your clock on him. I have 2 stories to share. First is my Mom and Dad are coming over for dinner. I looked out our window and see my Dad parked in the driveway waiting for 6:00pm as he was early. The other time was when he was 15 minutes late(before cell phones) I became concerned and actually call the police to see if there was a car accident. No accident he just had the wrong time.
Thanks, Mitch. I knew I liked him!
The web grows tighter. Strangely enough, I have known Roz (Bloom) Supera since
1957 when we were wide eyed freshmen at Coral Gables. She left, I stayed, and life goes on. Hope you enjoy your hiatus. Stay the course – Mexique is on the horizon
It IS a small world. Roz is a doll. And thanks, buddy. I’ll believe Mexique when I’m eating it.
As you recently found out, I’m one of those time freaks. Thank God my lovely wife was too. Can’t tell you how many times being on time saved my butt. Mitch has a great memory. Have a wonderful time. Allan
Thanks, my friend. And an on time lunch will be planned very soon. Us “time freaks” have to stick together.
Ellen:
Your column somehow inspires the creative juices in me. Good or bad, here’s an original poem I just wrote about being a little late:
LATE’S OK WITH ME
Lately I’ve been wonderin’
if it’s later than I think,
The hair’s a little grayer,
Some parts are on the blink
My legs don’t race as fast,
as they used to in the past,
My back gets kinda sore,
Way more than times before
Arthritis, bursitis,
and all those lovely ills,
I have to take some vitamins,
and all the other pills
Shoulders, hips, joints and knees,
creams and surgeries if you please,
Hair on ears and not my head,
Oh those things I dearly dread
Yes life’s ride is clearly aging,
it portends my certain fate,
I’ve been on time for everything,
but for this, I hope I’m late.
Def Poetry Jam! I love it. Thanks for classing up this blog, Robert Frost(top.)
I try (and 99.9% succeed) to never be late. I once had an aunt who was ALWAYS late, sometimes very late. When hosting a dinner party, a friend of my parents would place on the invitations a note – “if you are late you will not be served food.”
Herbie
I love it! I’m stealing it- if I ever have the misfortune of dealing with the chronically-late again. Thanks, Herbie. Hope to see you both soon. And I’ll be on time.
I once bet on a horse at 5 to 1.
He came in at a quarter to six!
Nice one, Bernie. I bet on a horse once. The only time he got near the rail was to lean on it.
Hi Ellen,
After almost 40 years of waiting patiently for my husband to arrive…I have finally figured it out to keep my sanity. I just always drive myself and it works. I am always on time person and I am never late for anything.
Ricky is still late for everything. When we go to the airport we leave at different times.
IT WORKS!!!!! He is even known to miss planes. The good news is he gets a lot done in 24 hours. He is a workaholic and just needs more hours in his day.
The fact that you remember all that trivia about our train ride downtown is amazing No wonder you are in the Hall of Fame. Love reading this.
Separate cars. A very good solution. And I remember everything, Lil. It’s a blessing- and a curse! See you real soon. And thanks for the memories.