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September 6, 1998
Back from Italy. I'd say it's even worth another visit. Once I catch up on sleep--and other things--I'll relate some of our experiences.
Most memorable site in Rome? The Pantheon, at night and during the day.
Most memorable site in Venice? The view from the balcony of our room! We stayed in the only hotel in Venice on St. Mark's square, and had the only room in the hotel with a balcony overlooking the square. How did we rate that?!
Most memorable site in Florence? View of the city from the balcony of the coffee house in the Boboli Gardens--our table was next to the balustrade.
Most memorable site in Perugia? The views, the views, the views--anywhere you look is a Kodak moment!
I think I need to get over the long trip back.
August 21, 1998
It's after midnight now. Today my wife and I will be leaving on vacation. Late tomorrow, God willing, we will be in Rome. Haven't been to Europe since 1975. This year seems to be one destined for travel. We will be in Italy for 15 days--4 in Rome, 2 in Venice, 3 in Florence, 5 in Perugia, then back to Rome before we leave. I certainly hope we are able to relax and enjoy ourselves. I wonder if I will be able to settle for only one day at the Forum. Of course, I am playing an appropriate film right now-- "Spartacus."
Yes, I hope it is a good year for travel. I have planned another trip for the Thanksgiving holiday. I have been invited to Egypt. I hope that all of us will be able to go. For some reason it seems a good place to me for a family vacation.
Italy first, though. I will not be making any new entries until after September 5th.
August 12, 1998
I haven't been able to write much lately. I'm very busy at work and at home. Got to wrap things up before I leave on vacation.
I'm also trying to work on some entries that will include some family photos. It's funny about those. I'll get all fired up about publishing some of them. Then, during the process, it becomes more and more difficult. Photos are funny things. They record times and events that in the past would have been forgotten. Memories come rushing back each time a photograph is viewed.
Memories can be very difficult things to deal with. Especially when they bring remembrance of people you love who are now deceased. People you will never see again--except in a photo or in your mind's eye.
August 5, 1998
My gosh, it's August--month named for Augustus. In a little over 2 weeks, God willing, Estelle and I will be in Rome. I don't like to rush during vacations. I'm already preparing myself for those sites we will not be able to see. I want to enjoy this trip. It's been quite a while since I've been in Europe--not since 1975.
I don't know what happened to my journal entry for July 27. I know I entered one, but I guess either I didn't save it or it just disappeared. I don't even remember what it was about.
I suppose the most exciting thing that's happened to me recently is that I have made a reacquaintence with an old friend. I hadn't seen or spoken to Jim in about 40 years. He sounds great, and apparently has a thriving business that's been in operation for 28 years. I was able to locate his whereabouts via the Internet--my first success.
I've changed the quote on my Gallery Index Page. I've always liked the Rubaiyat. It tells us to seize the moment. The time is now, and if not now maybe never.
July 21, 1998
Almost forgot to tell about what I saw while walking my dogs a few weeks ago.
Well, ya'know here I am just calmly walking my dogs down the street, and I'm about 4 blocks away from my house when I see:
Yeah, we had some bad storms about a month back. I knew several trees had been blown down, and that one car had been crushed. I didn't realize how close to our house it was, or that it was actually two cars that got crushed.
Then I looked closer and YIKES! I Jumped! Of course a nano-second later I realized that the arm coming out of the car was just a prank put there after the fact.
A pretty good perspective of what happened can be seen in this last photo.
Tree really wiped that Nissan and Toyota out! shudder.
July 20, 1998
As those of you know who've been keeping up with this site, I've been really busy with preparations for the speaker who will be here this week. It doesn't mean I haven't had time to think about various things though. I've got a great family, I'll be getting a new computer at home and I'll be vacationing in Italy in a little over a month. I can't help but think about how lucky I am.
Estelle is out of town this week, and I miss her. Deborah has her own apartment, and only comes home occasionally. Jason is home some, but he is often out with friends. It just sorta makes me think about family. I've always been close to family.
Maybe that's why I was thinking of Rochelle Montgomery and Mike Shaw recently. I suppose it's not unusual for me to think of those two when I consider my good fortune and attachment to family. I think my sister would be the best one to talk about Rochelle. It would be up to me to talk about Mike. I think Mike's story is very interesting. When I met Mike he was 24 and had already lived an incredible life.
It all goes back to when I owned my restaurant: Peoria Station. The guy I employed who helped out as an extra at lunchtime was becoming a pain in the ass (I don't remember his name but I'll call him John). He had an ability to consistently make mistakes and never feel he had to take any blame or alter his attitude. Combine this with his disrespect and chronic problem with getting to work on time, and it makes a good case for replacing him.
One afternoon Mike walked into the restaurant. I suppose he was just shopping around for a job. He was wearing jeans and a leather jacket. He had taken his motorcycle helmet off when he entered the restaurant. I 'm not sure if I would call it a sixth sense or what, but there are some people I instinctively think I should hire. It was like that with Mike. He was about 5'7", light brown short shaggy hair, friendly smile, and a very outgoing winning personality. I guess it has something to do with the eyes. They had an intelligent sparkle to them. Now who could I say he looked like? I guess I'd say Matt Damon. Yeah, he was a pretty good looking kid. At the time I wasn't sure when I would be able to arrange to hire someone, so I took his application and filed it for reference.
That Saturday, opportunity knocked. John didn't show up for work. I waited about an hour, decided that was the last straw, then called Mike and asked if he was still interested in working. He said yes, and I told him that he could start immediately.
He arrived in about 30 minutes. I had him fill out all his paperwork, and started him in the kitchen.
A few hours later John walked in. I told him I wanted to talk to him and asked that he sit down in the dining room. He offered some excuse for being late. I said that that was okay, but that he would not be working for me anymore. My bookkeeper had been in earlier, and I had asked her to make out a final check for him. That made it very clean and neat. he had no reason to return. I handed John his final check and bid him farewell.
As John left I walked into the kitchen and smelled something funny. It smelled like someone was smoking marijuana. Well, Mike was the only one in the back. What do they say about 2 and 2? I came a little unglued, told him I couldn't believe he was smoking pot in the restaurant. He denied it. I told him not to BS me, I knew it was grass, and he had better not ever do that again.
Why didn't I just tell him to get out? Guess I'm just soft. It was his first day. I gave him the benefit of the doubt (that's a stretch isn't it?). He seemed like a nice kid. Whatever.
In the following months I learned a lot about Mike. He was an excellent worker. He was polite, he was smart, he was funny, and In his late teens and early twenties he had worked as a male prostitute.
What a revelation. It brought home to me once again what a relatively charmed and sheltered life I lived. I'd been brought up in a secure home, with a caring family. Mike's family life had been chaotic. He had several brothers--all of them half brothers. His mother's life was punctuated many short-lived marriages and sexual liaisons. He had had little direction when he grew up, and sought "easy money" when he entered the workplace.
It seems that part of that "easy money" philosophy led him into prostitution. He started by being on call at the Hilton Inn. His fee was $250 a night (this was in the mid-seventies). He primarily serviced traveling businessmen. He then developed a clientele. He would be hired for the night or weekend. Mike told of one black man who hired him and took him out to dinner and to various bars, and was "gentle" with him. At the bars his employer would brag about his handsome date. What was interesting was that Mike took a certain pride in telling this. He was proud of the fact that someone paid for his services and was proud enough of him to show him off.
Now why was he telling me all this? Well, I owned a small restaurant, and I didn't have a lot of employees. We worked together every day and were sort of like a family. I like to promote a friendly work atmosphere. Even though I was the boss, we all needed to work as a team to get the job done. Mike was a not only a good worker but a real talker. And, as his story unfolded I felt very sorry for him. I also felt pretty helpless since there was a limit to what I could do.
At the time, he was living at the house of a young man whose father had been a prominent Tulsa businessman (It might be better to omit the name). Also living in the same house was a fellow who, from Mike's description, sounded psychotic (Mike said the guy had a short fuse and had threatened him several times with a knife). I don't know how these living arrangements came about. In any event, Mike seemed to think he could handle the situation.
Mike was at his best when he mimicked comedy routines. He entertained us with parodies on Eddy Murphy and others. Very funny stuff. When I saw the movie Thelma and Louise I was startled by the comedic dialogue Brad Pitt used to entertain Gena Davis in her motel room. Pitt told just how he would rob a bank all gentlemanly-like. What struck me was that Mike had demonstrated a routine very similar to that. I wonder where he would have gotten that material seven years before Thelma and Louise hit the screens?
A few evenings, when Mike and I closed, he would want to talk--so I would stay. He talked about his life of growing up and the moving around. The different men that lived with his mother and how they treated him. He talked about his years as a prostitute. He told me of a bad situation he had gotten himself into. He had gotten high on drugs and liquor and his companions had dumped him in the Riverpark area. He was found by members of a �Christian� group. They took him in and tried to convert him. He said he left there as soon as he could. He felt they cared more about him becoming a Christian than about him as a person.
Mike spoke of a brief marriage in Texas that hadn't lasted. His wife contracted a venereal disease and passed it on to him. He found out that she had been infected by someone he knew. He told me he made certain that the guy wouldn't be infecting another person (No, I don't think he killed the guy, it was something else). It was at that point that he left Texas and returned to Oklahoma.
He told me of various restaurant jobs. Of one in particular where in the front of the shop the owners wife "hit" on him, and in the kitchen area the owner "hit" on him. It's a funny world.
I tried to boost his confidence. He was obviously no dummy. He was certainly capable of bettering himself and getting a good paying job.
I guess old patterns of behavior die hard. He wasn't making a lot of money working for me, so he decided to look up some of his old customers. He located the black man who had escorted him years before. He told me he was going to ask the fellow for $150 for the evening. I thought it odd and asked why he didn't want more. His reply really got me. Mike said that now that he was older he wasn't as young or as good looking (I swear you couldn't prove it to me). He said he would probably apply a little makeup so that he looked better.
I had no reply to this. What could I say? I think I wished him good luck. Geeeeez!
That was in the afternoon. in the evening he returned to the restaurant. I asked why he had returned. He told me he had met the guy, but the man only wanted to pay $50 for his services. Mike said no. He was really dejected--crushed would be a better word. Of course I suggested he seriously think of another line of work.
When I had to close my restaurant, Mike took it pretty hard. He even �confessed� to me that he in fact had been smoking marijuana his first day at work (Of course I had had no doubt about that). I still have a styrofoam sauce cup he wrote on, on the last day we were open. He had drawn a sad face, and the words "I'm really gonna miss this place."
He drove over to my house a few days later. He told me how much he enjoyed working for me, and that he would again. I told him that if I had the opportunity to hire him I'd give him a call. That was the last time I saw him.
I had just had to shut down my business, but I felt like the lucky one. I had a family who loved me--that's an important thing.
A few years later I ran into the guy Mike had been living with. He said that Mike had gone to Dallas to live with one of his half-brothers. I hope that somewhere along the way in the years since, that Mike has found the love he was so desperately seeking.
July 18, 1998
Yeah, it's definite. We're going to Italy in August. Four days in Rome, 2 in Venice, 3 in Florence, and 6 days in Perugia. Estelle has professional meetings in Perugia--International Aerobiological Association (IAA). It should be great, but it's not going to do my bank account any good.
So this afternoon we went out to get new tennis shoes for the trip. A new place has opened near us called "Just for feet." We walk into the place and there are two or three people to greet us and Rap music is bellowing through the speakers. Ummm? The music spelled instant turnoff for me (I think for Estelle too). But hey, let's see what they have. I head over toward the Walking Shoe section and a salesman immediately latches on to me. I ask where the Reebok's are and he points them out. I guess I was taking too long to decide, so he asks me "How much do you walk a day?" So I'm thinking "why would he ask me that?" (I am obviously not into heavy exercise). I told him that I just couldn't keep track. Then he tells me I have a wide foot and points out a brand he says has wide sizes--I've never heard of the brand. The selection was small, the prices were high, the music was loud, so I said I'd just look around.
On the way out we saw stacks of markdowns. I thought I'd take a look. Well, another salesperson decides to "help" me. I told him I wanted a white Reebok. He shows me where the Reebok's are and hands me a shoe. The soles are white but the upper is beige. So I told him "This is beige." His reply was, "that's white." Then he tells me I have a wide foot and should get a special wide shoe. Hmmm? Okey Dokey, so we left Just for Feet and went across the parking lot to Oshmans.
Oshman's was more to our taste. Store is just as big, but the atmosphere is much more subdued. The salespeople were helpful. I told them what I wanted and they brought it out. Prices were okay. I did wind up getting black Reebok's instead of white. They have some sort of air cushion system that really feels great. Ciao.
July 9, 1998
Today was an interesting day. It was also a busy day. Besides having to get out an important mailing, I received a very gratifying letter. The letter was from the Tulsa City Auditor. He and his wife visited the Port on Tuesday. I introduced them to the museum and explained our educational programs. Afterward, I took them on a guided tour of the Port.
They seemed very impressed with what they saw. The Auditor's wife accompanied him. She is an educator, and was pleased that she would be able to use the museum and its resources as the basis of a long term project for her students. The Auditor was pleased when I told him we also had a website which contained a great amount of educational material.
You might just like to visit the museum's website. It was originally designed by Internet International. In the few weeks I have been doing the editing I have added more graphics, attractive backgrounds, many updates, and yesterday added a News Release concerning a speaker who will be at the Port on July 24th.
Getting back to that letter: It was full of praise for the museum and its exhibits, for the quality of the Port tour, and the depth and content of the museum website. The letter was so lauditory it was almost embarrassing. He sent a copy to the Mayor, the Port Director and the Chairman of the Port Authority Board---Gulp! Too bad it didn't arrive before my last salary review.
I don't make a fortune as a museum professional, however, I do enjoy my work. It's times like this that I think about Henry. I wonder if Henry enjoys his work?
If any of my co-workers are reading this, I don't mean the Henry that works with us at the Port. I'm talking about another Henry. I recall a photograph of my consecration. I was consecrated at the old Temple Israel at 16th and Rockford in Tulsa, in 1949. There are five others who were consecrated with me. I remember most of their names.
I am the one wearing the long pants on the left. Standing next to me was my best friend Jimmy Widess. Cheryl Newman stands next to Jimmy (In High School I would be beau of BBG and Cheryl would be Sweetheart of AZA). Rabbi Fierman is in the center. To the right of the Rabbi is Edie Solow (Isn't she cute! She's still a beauty). I don't know the name of the boy next to Edie, but I do know the name of the boy to his right.
The boy at the end on the right is Henry--Henry Kravis. Ever heard the name? If you don't I won't accuse you of living under a rock. It's just that Henry has had a lot of notariety. He was part of a New York financial team in the 80's named Kohlberg Kravis Roberts. They were corporate raiders. Henry engineered the 25 billion dollar deal to acquire RJR Nabisco. HBO even did a movie about that transaction. It was called "Barbarians at the Gate." I believe he is married to Donna Karen.
Well, as Edie recently told me, "That's about as close as we are going to get to that type of wealth." Are you enjoying yourself Henry? I know I am.
Oh yes, by the way, another comment on that photograph. My mother always used to point out that she had called Mrs. Widess to ask if the children would be wearing short or long pants. Mrs. Widess told her that Jimmy would be wearing long pants. Soooo, that's why I'm in long pants. Obviously, the others arrived in shorts.
July 5, Graphics added to July 4th entry. Take a look.
July 3, 1998
I think I've got computer fever. Estelle just got a new laptop--Pentium 233, 3Gig hard drive, etc. etc. Jason wants to upgrade his Pentium 100, and here I am at home with a 486SX--Groan! The handwriting is almost on the credit card slip!
July 4, 1998
Fourth of July. It's 11:00 now. We got back a while ago from Veteran's park. Deborah played with the Oklahoma Symphonia for over an hour before the firworks began.
The park was overflowing with people--it was great. Just bring your blanket and sit down and listen to the concert. At about 9:45 the fireworks display began on the river. This year it was augmented with laser lights. A very festive gathering. It's become a Tulsa tradition.
It is interesting that there was nothing like it when I was growing up. We always used to purchase fireworks and set them off after dark in the backyard. The fourth was a holiday one usualy celebrated at home. Things change. It's now against the law to set off fireworks at a private residence in the city. It's just as well. I think I enjoy the concert and large public display much better.
I was looking through some old photographs and papers today and ran across my grandfather's (William R. Stein, my mother's father) naturalization papers. I thought it appropriate and took the opportunity to show them to Deborah and Jason. Although my grandfather and grandmother were married on January 30, 1905, he only applied for citizenship in 1911. His certificate of naturalization was issued in 1922. Accompanying these papers is a little .framed copy of the Declaration of Independence. Placed over the Declaration under the glass is a small silk 48 star American flag. The flag was given to my grandfather at the time of his naturalization.
June 29, 1998
Hummmm? What have I been doing. Nothing spectacular. Went to see �New Moon� Saturday. It�s a musical by Sigmund Romberg. Amazing production. Many familiar tunes. �One Kiss,� and �Stout-Hearted Men� among them. My tickets to this Light Opera Oklahoma (LOOK) production, and their presentation of �The Mikado,� were the result of my assistance with an associated exhibit at the Alexandre Hogue Gallery at the University of Tulsa. The LOOK coordinator is a good friend of mine. She asked that I build a model of the Hogue Gallery to assist her in the development of a Light Opera exhibit there. I enjoyed helping out, although building a scale model of the gallery was quite a chore.
Yesterday, Jason and I went to the Star-Trek Expo. He had also attended the day before to see William Shatner. Sunday, we saw Ethan Phillips of DS9, and Jerry Doyle of Babylon-5. I hadn�t been to one of these events in several years. I didn�t really enjoy being there. It makes me feel like �Here I am with the rest of the weirdoes.� The dealers look sleazy, and it�s sort of creepy seeing people dressed as Klingons, Romulans, and Trills. Things like that certainly help make me think. I took that thought, and combined it with other experiences of mine this weekend: Friday evening I went to Border�s. I noticed a Dilbert T-shirt there with an illustration of Dilbert shaving while at the office sitting at his computer. The legend read, �No matter what I do, the pay is the same.� Today, after the Expo, I happened to drive by a former Long John Silver�s Seafood Shop. These things brought back interesting memories and a lesson.
I spent three of my �Illustrious� years in management as District Training Supervisor (DTS) for Taco Bell. The DTS is responsible for training all the management personnel in the district. My three year stint in that position was a fun time. The first year and last year were pretty busy. During those years I trained quite a number of managers. However, that middle year was different.
During my second year as DTS I did very little training. There were several reasons for this. First of all, I was only required to supervise--not operate--the Training Restaurant. Secondly, no new managers were needed. Third, my immediate superiors were content to keep me at the Training Restaurant to thwart me from becoming aware of activities of which they knew I would not approve--that�s another story.
Well, as Dilbert says, �No matter what I do, the pay is the same,� rather than twiddle my thumbs I invented a project for myself. I decided to use the extra time to write an employee training program . (The training restaurant was right next door to a Long John Silver�s. LJS had an employee training program).
There had been talk by company representatives that an employee training program was in the works--for two years or more. It was beginning to sound just like all talk and no action. As it stood, each restaurant manager taught his employees as he or she saw fit. There was no standardization. Well hell, I thought, I had a degree in education. I had trained my restaurant crew. When I had been a restaurant manager my restaurant was in the top ten in the nation in sales increase for six months straight--two of those months we were number two. For the past year I had been training management personnel non-stop. If anyone should be able to write an employee training program, I should.
That�s what I did. I wrote a comprehensive employee training program. I called it �The Six-Step Training Program.� The package included a manager�s guide and individual employee training booklets. I was pretty proud of the result. The District Manager was happy. Two Regional Managers mandated that my program be adopted in their regions (Regions were made up of multiple districts).
And now for the rest of the story: My boss informed the corporate office of the program I had created. He reasoned that I should get some special recognition.
The corporate reaction: succinctly put, it was �Who is Allan Avery and what makes him think he has any right to develop a training program.�
After taking heat for their initial reaction, they actually offered me a job in the corporate training department. Of course the salary they mentioned wasn�t enough to maintain my family above the poverty level in California. I declined the offer.
Lesson learned: Companies will tell you they want you to think and be creative--and if you believe that I�ve got a few bridges I�d like to sell you. What they want is for employees to toe the corporate line. Too much independent thought could prove fatal.
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