"It is
impossible for ideas to compete in the marketplace if no forum for
John Hathaway-Bates
Consider the following: There is a lady working in Rite-Aid in Beverly Hills who was born in Ruiru in Kenya, many years after I left that (as it was then, almost half a century ago) the most beautiful country I had ever seen. When we meet, as we do often, we greet each other and share pleasantries in Swahili, which I have discovered I have forgotten almost 80% of what I knew when I lived in Africa in the 1950's. A week or so back, we started talking as Alice was restocking the shelves with items for Kwanzaa, Hanukkah and Christmas; and while we were chatting, an African-American lady came up to us and asked Alice what language we were talking, (completely ignored me of course) and Alice replied in innocence and without hesitation, “He is my brother, we are Africans from Kenya, so we are talking our language”. Alice is black and young and at that time dressed in a Rite-Aid uniform, and I am a gray haired old white man in a three piece suit, serving out my sixty fifth year on planet Earth. As they say, if only I had had a camera to catch the look upon that dear lady’s face! Next: Every year I put up colored Christmas lights on the balcony, and this year, as ever, we are the only “Christmas” decorated place on Burton Way in Beverly Hills, California. So, a few days ago, my wife asked me why was it that no other houses on the street were decorated with “Christmas” lights. So, in blithe innocence, I explained to her that we lived in the most predominately Jewish city in the United States. Her response just proved to me how unusual my life is, “You mean Jews do not celebrate Christmas? Then why is it that your brother sends you a Christmas card?” To understand the comment, you would need to know that my step-brother is Jewish and my wife had never met anyone who was Jewish until she came to America. Next: Back in the Summer I had an old friend to dinner, and his interest was sparked by a recipe I have framed and hanging on the wall for Christmas pudding, that was first recorded by one of my ancestors back in 1794. It calls for spices such as nutmeg and cinnamon, which were worth their weight in gold back then, and for such things as almonds, sherry, an orange and a lemon, all of which would have had to have been imported. The end result being that a few weeks back my friend called me and asked me if I could send him a copy of the recipe. As he is a Muslim I think I extracted a good deal for my Christmas recipe. I sent him a copy of the recipe in return for a promise of my wife and I being invited to the feast he will hold in his home at the end of Ramadan next year. I have not been to an end of Ramadan feast since I lived in Bahrain forty odd years ago. Next: I was sat in the Compass Rose bar at the Saint Francis Hotel in San Francisco after one of our luncheon meetings this past year (as usual enjoying my complimentary cognac), when a gentleman began to annoy a young lady at the bar itself, and so, proving that my grandmother gave me far more honorable intent than I have good sense, I promptly intervened. (A couple of good cognacs and I am known to become quite brave). He proceeded thereafter to shift his anger towards me and began to actually annoy me, but at least the young lady was given the opportunity to retire. But it was what he said, somewhere in that exchange of pleasantries, that will remind me of 2004 in years to come. Before the staff ejected him, very professionally, he told me to go back to England stating that, “America does not need you Limeys – we kicked you out in 1776 so why don’t you stay out?” I tried to explain the facts to him, but I was gently escorted back to my table, as he was (not so gently, but very professionally) removed. The facts are that “the shot that was heard around the world” in 1775 was more than likely fired by one of my blood relatives. It is a joke in my family, that at Lexington we had relatives in both the 42nd Foot (later to become the Oxford & Bucks Light Infantry of World War II fame), and also in the Massachusetts Militia. To point out the obvious origin of the gentleman in this letter would only cause an international incident – but I am more than sure that his family did not manage to get into America prior to the advent of the 20th Century. Next: It fascinates me how people like to put boxes of prejudice around everything. Around about my birthday this year I met a lady, of my age, who used to live near me for many years before I moved north from the “flats” south of Wilshire in Beverly Hills to where I live today. In fact, her son had “a thing” for my daughter a decade or so ago; the same daughter who today is a model in Milan, Italy – and who had always turned down the chap’s advances. My wife and I were shopping at Pavilions at the time, and my wife was searching through the Asian Foods section for items I cannot even spell. As if she was my mother, the dear lady from my past asked me if I was not ashamed of myself for marrying a woman much my junior. Words of Wisdom being far more effective in such a situation than words of anger, (i.e.: profanity), I pointed out to her, that had not her husband just bought a new Mercedes? She agreed that he had, and so I explained, kindly, that her husband liked cars, whereas I happen to like and have an affection for women. If her husband would not gain the same enjoyment from buying an old, used car, why should I relegate myself to such a women as my choice of a partner, if I could get this year’s model? The kicker is that she stamped away, obviously angry, if not disgusted with me. But the next day I met her husband, and he asked me “What did you say to my wife, John?” I began to prepare an apology, but before I could begin, he stopped me with the words “Whatever it was . . . I thank you for it!” Horses for Courses my friend, as me Grandfather said, it is always Horses for Courses! Next: “How come I am white Dad?” There is something a little disconcerting when your youngest son asks you that, especially if, like me, you are the light eyed, very white skinned (one might say pink and pasty white) product of thirty seven generations of carefully monitored breeding in the west midlands of England. But he had a point, as his mother came from Hawaii and everyone in her family is black haired, brown skinned and dark eyed, including his brother, my eldest son. So I began to explain to him that people come in all colors and it is character not color that matters, we are all the same beneath the skin, etc. etc. Then he hands me a group photo of his mother’s family with him, a little blue eyed, white skinned, blond haired tyke sat at the very front of a very large group of happy, brown Hawaiians. “I know that Dad, but could you ask Mom not to put me in the middle of the picture next time.” Next: Religious and racial bigotry is a really very strange thing. It defends “us” against “them” I guess, if our education is just a little less than complete, or was unfortunately, or even purposely, biased. To illustrate the point, I have a dear friend of many years, who immigrated to California from Ireland many years ago, and he and I and several others were talking about the situation in Iraq in very general terms back in October, when he made a statement that went something like, “They got beat, so why do they not just accept it and get on with rebuilding their country?” He got quite flummoxed when I pointed out to him that what was happening today in Iraq, to my mind, is very similar to what kept Northern Ireland in turmoil for almost a century, and that we could well expect the Iraqi situation to be similar and perhaps last just as long – Northern Ireland is Catholic against Protestant, Iraq is Sunni against Shia, vice versa and etc., etc. Mike became very quiet immediately, and when the group began to break up, I asked him if everything between us was still alright. He said that of course it was, except he had never looked at the Iraqi situation like the way I had explained it before. I also learned that day for the first time, that he is a Catholic from Belfast in Northern Ireland. Next: I have a friend of many years in San Francisco who is of Chinese ancestry, and at a luncheon this last year I used her friendship to make a meeting work, when I joked that if no one minded I would like to ask the first question of my “cousin”. She rode it, as I knew she would, and as she had so many times before, lifting what might had been a very dry conversation into being one of intent participation. But afterwards a lady who had not attended our events before came up and asked my friend if she was not offended by my obvious lack of respect. My friend’s reply was a classic; “John only invites me to these luncheons so that I will invite him to our family’s Chinese New Year celebrations – and there we are all able to insult him in Chinese, which he does not understand!” Next: One of my blood relatives fought with General Gough who defeated the Sikh Nation back in the mid-1800’s. I tell you that because, as anyone in Seattle knows, Sitka taxis in Seattle are manned almost exclusively by recent Sikh immigrants. So there I am on a trip from Seattle/Tacoma Airport to the Olympic Fairmont Hotel, when my driver begins to regale me with his version of his nation’s history. Now many years ago my closest friend and companion for almost a year was a Sikh and so I know a mite about the actual history, rather than the diatribe that I was being fed - rather loudly. So, being a disciple of Diogenes, I explained to him that one of my relatives, another John Hathaway had fought under Gough in the 1848-49 Campaign, and thereby, had helped to deny the Sikhs an empire in India. After that the driver stopped talking until we reached the Fairmont Hotel. As we drew up to the entrance to the Fairmont I passed over the fare, adding the usual five dollar tip. The driver then handed me back the five dollars I had given as a tip, explaining that he could not take it from me. I asked why, and he replied that he had too much pride to accept a tip from me. Explain that one to me my friends. Last one: I have a couple of Hindu friends who have made California their home for many years now, and earlier this year they came to my home for dinner, and of course I pointed out that nothing in the meal was derived from cattle. Later, after a few after dinner drinks, my friend (the wife) confided to me that when she was young and completing her education in England, she had been rebellious once and had ordered and eaten a filet mignon steak served with shallot and red wine sauce and sprinkled with gorgonzola cheese. I asked her how she had felt about that afterwards, and her reply still makes me chuckle, it was: “Felt about it? I still dream about it sometimes!” . . . and to conclude: To add to my confusion from 2004, I find myself supporting Pauline Fields for the Glendale City Council (a lady whose significant other never fails to assail every Letter from the President that I write); and Bernie Parks (an African-American product of a strict Catholic Schooling) to become the next Mayor of the City of Los Angeles; both of whom I would suggest to be guardians for my children should my wild lifestyle take me from this world in the next twelve months, as my very politically correct and non-smoking, non-drinking Indian doctor tells me it may very well do. This is the same doctor who advised me, after my second heart surgery, that I should get more exercise, with the added advice that I should either get a stationary bicycle, or a young wife. I therefore explained to him, after getting married to my third wife, that I considered it to be all his fault - that I had tried a stationary bicycle but just could not see the sense in it, and had therefore decided that I would prefer a young wife. He took me seriously, poor chap, and apologetically explained that he had only been joking about me getting a young wife - with a very straight face. Is not life hilarious? Like I said my friends, God has to have a sense of humor. I hope and pray for the coming Year that you will always be able to enjoy this joke that is Life, cushioned of course by health, wealth and happiness and always surrounded by people who respect and love you. May your dreams all come true, your children prosper, and your goals become reality in 2005. You can
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