LETTERS FROM THE WESTSIDE
58 West 70th Street
(and “the cage” at Smith-Barney’s)
[In the “cage” at Smith Barney’s on Wall Street]
Wednesday, March 30, 1966
Dear Mother and Dad,
If only I weren’t sitting out here in the middle of the
floor with the boss hovering about my ears, I could type a more intelligible
letter, and less self-conscious. This room is so noisy . . . phones ringing,
typewriters clattering, boys yelling at each other, and the drone of a dozen
phone conversations.
Anyway, there’s a lull now, and – come what may – I’m
going to drop you a note.
I hope that you are now calmly sitting on the veranda
sipping something and looking out over that magnificent ocean at the sail boats
and oil tankers and Catalina. And furthermore, I hope that you are doing only
that – SITTING. Not moving, that is. Taking it easy, in other words. I have
visions of you doing the above, so please comply.
Wouldn’t you know?
Walter Gabriel (the boss) was standing right behind me. Who cares? I think they need me more than I need them. Well,
I’d better get back to work.
Soon, I hope to be free to devote ALL my time to the
typewriter – writing, that is. But I’ll have to sell my first short story.
Not much else that’s new. Spring is slow to come, as
always this time of the year. But May can be relied on to burst forth
gloriously. We’ll just have to have patience.
T A K E C A R
E!
Wall Street and Trinity Church
[In the “cage” at Smith Barney’s on Wall Street]
Monday 4/4
Well here we are again in the “cage.” I thought I’d leave off the salutation so it
will be less obvious that I’m typing a letter. They are very sensitive to
people sitting around not doing the work. But what do you do when there isn’t
any? Just fake it, as the saying is. Personally,
I think it’s kind of silly. I’m in favor of longer lunch hours when the work
slows down. Suppose we could work that out with the union, Dad? What union?
We are, I’m afraid, unrepresented.
A quiet week again. Very busy with a short story now. Don’t
know what will come of it, but it has been good experience writing it, and I’m
developing more and more confidence every day.
A friend from California was in over the weekend [Ret
Turner – in the costume department at N.B.C. in Burbank], so we did all the
things one is expected to do when someone comes from out of town, things you
don’t ordinarily do . . . He took us out to dinner Saturday night – to Sardi’s
East – a “restaurant” restaurant. Good food and good service. I think they have
a waiter for every course. And lots of flaming things – flaming duck, cherries
jubilee and baked Alaska
which is much too rich for anyone, but pretty. (blue flames on a mountain of meringue).
I’ve been writing in my journal, and it’s amazing how
much one remembers – and how much one forgets. . .
So we are looking forward to the Easter weekend now. Have
Friday off, and hope to get out of town!
It’s been much too long.
Not much more news at the moment, but I’ll be thinking of
you all out there in that sunny clime. Take care . . .
Saturday evening, April 16, 1966
Dear Mother and Dad,
This will be the last performance of the Metropolitan
Opera at the old house – a gala event with more than 60 soloists. Unfortunately
I will not go. $100 a seat was just a little too steep for me. Frank had to go
to photograph the whole thing. He’ll be sharing a tiny booth with two
photographers from ‘Life” magazine – in the radio booth which Milton Cross has
used since 1940. So, it has been a day at the old Met of “Auld Lang Syne” and tears.
However, most everyone I think is really anxious to
get into the new house at Lincoln
Center
Spring has been sort of creeping in on us for the
last few days. It gets up to about 60 degrees and it’s sunny most of the time. But
I’m still waiting for that 70 degree day. And – even more – that glorious final
week in May when all the trees are in bloom. And – even more than that! – that
first day at the beach.
I tried to call you on Easter Sunday, but the
circuits were busy – all day! We had our
Canadian friends here on a surprise visit so it was a wild and busy weekend. The
grand tour, you know – United Nations, top of the Empire State Fifth Avenue and
mobs of people walk up and down staring at each other. Crazy hats with Easter
bunnies in them, etc. It was lots of fun and a beautiful day too.
My reading has become somewhat spotty lately. By the
time I get through the N.Y. Times, N.Y. Tribune, Saturday Review, Newsweek
& Life Magazine every week, I just barely manage to get back to Harpers, Atlantic , and Playboy – to say nothing of novels. Did you
ever read John P. Marquand? I think he’s an author you would enjoy very much. Read
his “Women and Thomas Harrow” recently. Very good – a little inconclusive, but
fun reading. I haven’t read “The Founding Fathers” which you mentioned, but it
sounds very – very interesting. I really like historical books.
Also just read “A Night to Remember” – sinking of the
Titanic. Speaking of history. Of course, the gripping thing about that story is
how so many people could be so stupid and cocksure of themselves. What a way to
learn a lesson.
I could spend 24 hours a day just reading. There is
so much to get through! To say nothing
of the stories I want to write. Just not enough hours in the day.
Please continue to take care of yourself and say
hello to all the waves, the surfers and the beach-ites!
[In the “cage” at Smith Barney’s on Wall Street]
April 26, 1966 [fortieth birthday]
Well I certainly don’t feel any older, but it is a bit of
a drag to be stuck in this idiot job at a few bucks a week after all these
years. But such is life
Spring has struck with a sudden burst! Last evening after work, we took the dogs for
a run in the park – Central Park , that is. Beautiful.
The grass is thick and green, and the dogs loved it. So did I.
Received your beautiful card with all the homespun
philosophy. For which, many thanks. It was nice of you to write at such length.
Actually, life is emphatically what you make of it. And I guess I’ve
learned, after living half of it, that one makes one’s way pretty much by
oneself. That is, if you’re going to accomplish anything, you’ve got to do the
hard work, and no one’s going to do it for you. This realization, after ending
up in this stupid job after all the effort. But you see, it just wasn’t enough.
So – on to the next adventure. [December 1963-December 1965, as Executive
Director of the Japanese-American Cultural Institute – see “I’ll Take
Manhattan” – “Kochiro Koso”]
Also, writing is teaching me this too. You can dream and
plan for all the glory and independence that writing can give you – but in the
final analysis, it’s you and you alone, sitting long hours at the typewriter
and struggling with the ideas and words that are going to give you the rewards
– nothing else. I must say, it’s a bit difficult doing it and holding down a
job at the same time, because there’s just no time . . . but, again, such is
life.
Please take good care of yourselves. And thanks for the
very kind and sweet thoughts on this rather momentous point if my life. Wow! I
still don’t believe it. Frank said this morning, shall I get you a wheel chair,
to which I replied, no, get me some hormones. (but I honestly don’t need that
either – never felt better.)
[In the “cage” at Smith Barney’s on Wall Street]
Monday, May 2, 1966,New York
Monday, May 2, 1966,
Well here it is, another Monday morning. I’m afraid
there’s not much new news to report. A rather typical and somewhat dull week. Except
of course, for your wonderful surprise phone call on my birthday. Actually, I
had a very nice birthday. Frank’s mother – Maria – came down and cooked dinner.
She had her dates mixed up so Frank had to call her up and dinner was a bit
late. Our friend, Chris (Mena), also came by with a present and a big chocolate
cake (presented as a surprise after dinner.)
We had a lot of fun – and your call was the frosting on the cake. Real
delight!
Hopefully . . . that’s all I can say. Life is just one
big long hope. But at least each morning I manage to wake up with that – plus a
bit of hard work at the writing before coming down here to work. That short
story has been re-written so many times, I don’t recognize it anymore, but it’s
progressing. Should get my first rejection slip soon. And who knows, someone
may buy it.
I’m also lining up the “troops.” I’ve heard from Robert Murphy (Chairman of
the Board of Corning Glass and former Under Secretary of State, under
Roosevelt, author of “Diplomat Among Warriors” – negotiated with the North
African nations preceding the American invasion of North Africa in 1942 – first Ambassador to Japan after the Peace
Treaty in 1951). His secretary called last week to say I most certainly could
use him as a reference, that he was in Europe and knew about my letter to him,
wished me the very best and hoped to see me when he gets back to New York. Diplomatic
jargon, of course, but at least he does know me and it will be helpful to use
him as a reference. Robert Seebeck, the vice president here at Smith, Barney is
also very much on my side still. Had a long chat with him last Friday. And I
talked to John Powers on the phone. (Former President of Prentice-Hall and the
Institute’s vice president). He wants to see me – not just talk – and so he’s
lined up also. He’s got a million dollars and all kinds of contacts, so it
should produce something. [John G. Powers was into all kinds of questionable ventures
after he was forced to resign from Prentice-Hall with his 1.2 million dollar
retirement. He got me an interview with E.A.T. – Environmental something-something – don’t remember –
but later they fell apart after some legal controversy with the U.S. Feds.]
As to other plans, I’ll not discuss them with you now. Hope
(oh, that word!) to have a meeting soon, anyway, to tie all these contacts
together. Hope, hope hope . . .
Meantime life is a bit of a drag and a struggle simply
because it’s almost impossible to keep up with things, and there’s not much
left for recreation. And in the beautiful springtime, too. Makes it doubly
difficult. But anyway, the weather hasn’t been too good, except for the flowers.
It rained all day Saturday, and the sun just barely came out yesterday. More
rain today, looks like.
Please take the very best care of yourself, and don’t
worry about me. I’ve got my health and my h o p e!
[handwritten] P.S. – Sasaki went back to Japan . (He will
not be missed) – [Peter N. Sasaki,
Roman Catholic Priest from Sendai ,
Japan
[Great Aunt Pearl
died in July, 1966 – Shortly after we met in Newport Beach to “plan our strategy” to
contest Aunt Pearl’s will]
Sunday, August 30, 1966
Dearest Mother –
How are you?
That’s really the one question that is ever on my mind these days. It is
really very difficult being back here. Trying to carve out a life for oneself
can be very painful sometimes. Especially when you want desperately to be in
two places at once.
But the job is going well. After one week, it looks
pretty good, as a matter of fact. Public relations work for which I’m
particularly suited – an executive position (I sound like Aunt Katherine, don’t
I? – describing one of Leon Parma’s jobs). And lots of writing – which I
especially like.
I’m trying to keep in touch with all of you – but I don’t
know, letters don’t seem to be enough. If only I could drop by and see you now
and then.
Please
take good care of yourself. . . . I’ll write more at length later on. . . .
September 5, 1966
Thanks for your letter. It had been some time since I’d
heard from anyone, and then – zing! All at once – you, Edith and Alice. I guess
visiting all of you and then not hearing was difficult. But don’t worry about
writing. I understand.
I’ve been in touch with Edith again. I guess that’s all
any of us can do.
Well, I started a new job, and – although it’s not
glamorous – it will probably be very interesting. I’m going to the University of Maryland
The reason our Association is interested is simply our
member companies make and sell X-Ray equipment, so they want to know what’s
happening.
Of course the X-Ray manufacturers are only one of 80
sections in the Association. Actually N.E.M.A. is the largest Association of
manufacturers of electrical equipment in the U.S. (that’s right out of our
Public Relations manual!) It stands for
National Electrical Manufacturers Association, and I am Assistant to the
Director of Public Relations, a man in his 50s.
Other than the job, things are the same. Had a quiet
weekend out on Long Island .
Please don’t go down those stairs anymore – and the best
of everything!
September 17, 1966
Grand opening of the new Metropolitan Opera House in Lincoln Center
September 16, 1966
The New York Times
// So ends “Letters from the Westside” – next: “Letters from the Loft”
