|Frank toasts to a new decade...|
“If you can fall in love again and again… if you can forgive as well as forget, if you can keep from growing sour, surly, bitter and cynical… you’ve got it half licked.”
I won't turn 80 until next June, but my gentleman friend, Frank Stern, welcomed the beginning of his ninth decade on December 13. I wanted to ensure that his 80th would be memorable. I think I succeeded.
Another Frank, Old Blue Eyes Sinatra, promised us long ago that fairy tales would come true, if we stayed young at heart. I believed him then and still do...and Miller, too. So earlier this week I spirited my young-at-heart Frank away for a Catalina respite for rest and relaxation. Though it's famously only 26 miles across the sea, Avalon is light years away from the stress of 2016.
The merriment began the moment we checked in at the Long Beach Catalina Express office, where Frank was handed his special birthday ribbon. I insisted he wear it for the whole trip, and he quickly found out why. Birthday welcomes have become a huge Catalina tradition, since Catalina Express offers free round trip transport for the birthday celebrant.
|Entrance Hotel MacRae|
|Desk manager Juan at Atwater|
|120 Sumner Avenue|
There we were made welcome by Juan, who supervises the front desk operations. He gave us detailed descriptions of all the best places to eat and pointed out where Frank could take advantage of the birthday special discounts. We followed up the offer of free ice cream at Lloyd's, famous also for its salt water taffy, and a complementary continental breakfast at nearby Ben's the following morning.
We decided to lunch at Antonio's, with an outside patio view of the harbor. The restaurant has old fashioned fun house mirrors upstairs, where I shot this photo of my birthday boy...yes, I'm afraid he got a little big-headed over all the birthday greetings he received as we roamed the byways of the island.
|Fun with Frank!|
We passed up the miniature golf and bowling games in favor of a leisurely stroll to the casino after lunch, followed by a thorough exploration of the new Metropole setting for the museum, with its videos and photos detailing the colorful history of the island.
|Pacific snapper for me|
|Making a birthday wish|
|Beribboned and birthdayed...|
|Birthday steak for Frank|
On Wednesday we hopped aboard a scenic island tour bus, and to our delight learned we were the only passengers for the noon trip. So we got special attention and all of our questions answered. I learned the definitely non-native eucalyptus trees along the steep winding roads had been placed there because they have far-reaching roots that hold the soil to the sides of the cliffs.
Since I used to be a teacher in the Long Beach Unified School District, I'd known that the lone school on the island belonged to that district. I hadn't known that 40% of the school's grads attended college, a percentage the driver thought was worth bragging about. I agree, given that it appears so many of the students are the children of the bus drivers, tour guides, hotel employees and other service personnel that cater to the tourism industry year around.
We finished up our afternoon with lunch at Maggie's Blue Rose, where we treated ourselves to margaritas, served in some of the biggest glasses I'd ever been served one in. Frank inquired if I wanted a second round, but I passed, not wanting to fall overboard on our return trip.
|Margaritas at Maggie's Blue Rose|
I'm still thinking of Henry Miller and how he lauded the gifts of old age:
At eighty I believe I am a far more cheerful person than I was at twenty or thirty. I most definitely would not want to be a teenager again. Youth may be glorious, but it is also painful to endure…I met Miller on the occasion of his 80th birthday celebration at UCLA in December 1971. At that time he'd autographed a shopworn paperback copy of The Time of the Assassins for me, his poetic riff on the life and poetry of Arthur Rimbaud. That book remains one of my treasures. Though Miller had been born in 1891, a year after my grandmother, he remained ever youthful and ahead of his times. These qualities I see also and greatly admire in Frank. Though I've got six months to go, I'm determined to welcome in my ninth decade with verve, as well.
I was cursed or blessed with a prolonged adolescence; I arrived at some seeming maturity when I was past thirty. It was only in my forties that I really began to feel young. By then I was ready for it. (Picasso once said: “One starts to get young at the age of sixty, and then it’s too late.”) By this time I had lost many illusions, but fortunately not my enthusiasm, nor the joy of living, nor my unquenchable curiosity.
|Avalon's famed casino.|
|Santa hulas on Avalon's Crescent|
|Happy birthday again, sweetheart!|