How Jimmy Carter Changed My Life

Jeff–Saturday

This post is far longer than my usual ones, and certainly more introspective, but I hope you’ll find it interesting…for it’s all true.

 

 President Jimmy Carter’s passing this week sent memories flooding back of how his decision to run for President in 1976 set my life on a course I’d never imagined.

 

Back then I was almost penniless in New York City. Virtually all my money that year goes toward child support and what I need to see my kids twice a week. I live off late night dinners at the Wall Street law firm where I’m an associate and the kindness of a teammate from the law firm’s softball team who lets me share his place over by Brooklyn’s Prospect Park.  Then, through a client, I find a cheap, 4^th floor studio apartment on one of the more fashionable streets on the Upper Eastside.  I move into a brownstone that served as the entrance facade to an elegant high-rise -- making my apartment about the only walkup in New York with doormen and staff.  I can’t count the number of people who actually believe me when I say, “Have to walk, the elevator’s broken.”

 

Professionally, things are moving along quite nicely at the law firm.  I’m on what’s called a partnership track and Jimmy Carter’s decision to run for the presidential nomination serendipitously gives my chances an even greater boost.  No one gives him much of a chance in the primaries, except for my old Kennedy Clan friend, Bill, who’s serving as Chairman of Carter’s underestimated New York State Primary Campaign Committee.  He becomes a mighty important person in New York politics when Carter gets the nomination.  That’s when the most Senior Partner of my law firm – let’s call him Sam -- knocks on my door and asks if I can introduce him to the Chairman.  Sam is an extraordinary lawyer and personal friend of virtually every President since FDR.  But he has no access to Carter and of everyone he knows I’m closest to the Chairman.

 

I arrange a breakfast meeting and Sam insists I join them.  It’s the three of us for a “power breakfast” at the Carlyle Hotel, while folk such as Walter Cronkite stop by to say hello (to them).  It’s heady times.  Sam offers my services to the Chairman for whatever the campaign needs; he only asks that I’m allowed to keep him informed of what’s going on in the campaign.  I’m now Sam’s confidant and liaison to the next President of the United States.  Heady times indeed.  I get a pass from virtually all work at the law firm as I set up New York City’s voter registration effort and represent the Democratic National Committee in negotiations with the Republican Attorney General over an absentee ballot dispute.  My success is covered by The New York Times.  Beyond heady times.Then Carter wins, and it’s on to inaugural parties and balls.  

 

The Chairman is appointed Ambassador to the United Nations in Switzerland and offers me the chance to join him as an aide.  It’s as if he’d heard my college years’ wish for a career in diplomatic relations.  It’s a spectacular life-changing opportunity. One I cannot possibly pass up.  But I must, because it means being away from my children for at least four years.

 

So, it’s back to business as usual at the law firm. Sam wants me to take a position at the SEC or Justice Department.  He says it will enhance my career, but that means moving to Washington, and away from my kids.  So, I pass on that too.  He understands. He’s become my mentor and friend.

 

It’s later that winter, possibly early spring, and I get a call at my office from my father.  He tells me he’s been diagnosed with cancer.  He says he didn’t want to tell me this way -- over the phone – but his doctors in Pittsburgh say it’s very advanced and he should see a certain doctor at Sloan Kettering in New York City immediately; but the earliest appointment he can get on his own is more than a month away.  “Can you possibly help me?”  CAN I POSSIBLY HELP HIM!  CANCER.  THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING.  We just had a surprise 60^th birthday for Dad.  He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him   Business is great.  They’re traveling, have a place in Florida, doing everything they’d never done before.

 

“Don’t worry Dad, I’ll take care of it,” is all I remember of the rest of our conversation.   But I’ll never forget a word of my next two that afternoon.

 

I’ve been with the firm for almost seven years and am very well liked.  The head of my department is a prominent, eloquent lawyer proud of his connections in the community, particularly those at Sloan Kettering.  So, the moment I get off the phone I go down to his office and ask if I may speak with him about a very personal family matter.  He says sure, tells me to close the door and sit down.  He listens sympathetically as I struggle through the terrible news I’ve just received and my request that he please help my Dad get an appointment to see that doctor.  Using all of his eloquence his says, “I’d like to Jeffrey, really would, but I’m sure you understand some day I may need to help someone in my family and I don’t want to use up any of my favors now.”

 

The next thing I remember I’m at my desk, head down, wondering what kind of human being this guy is and how am I going to help my father.   At that precise moment Sam walks passed my office, sees me and asks, “What’s wrong?”  I need this job, I really do, but I’m angry and couldn’t care less what happens to me or the seven years I’ve put in.  Sure, I could just ask if he knows anyone at the hospital who could help but, instead, I tell him everything, including every word of his partner’s lecture on favors.

 

Sam says nothing, just closes the door, picks up my phone and places a call to the head of one of New York’s most prominent families.  “Hi, it’s Sam, how are you.  Yes, I know you asked me to be on your board but I’m just so busy right now I don’t think I could do the position justice.  But as a matter of fact, I’m calling about the hospital.   The father of one of my closest friends is in urgent need of seeing the head of your prostate cancer department.  Can you help him?  That’s great.  I’ll have his father call your office right away.  Thanks, and yes, I’ll re-think my decision.

 

I’m practically in tears when Sam hangs up the phone.  “Jeffrey, you’ll never use up favors helping people with things like this.  Remember that.”  Three days later my father sees that doctor.   Sam never shares a hint of our conversation with any of his partners – and I never forget a word of it.

 

Dad approaches his cancer battle with the same reasoned, methodical courage he confronts everything else in life.  He’s the quintessential Jewish example of the Puritan work ethic and inspires all of his sons to succeed.  One day I receive a greeting card from Dad.  He’s in the midst of radiation therapy and sends the same card to each of his sons.  It contains only one line, a quote from Goethe:

 

            “Nothing is more highly to be prized than the value of each day.”

 

Those are not words describing his life or mine; but of all the words in the world to send to his children at this delicate moment in his life, those are the ones he chooses.  It is a formative moment of my life and forever changes the direction of my career.

 

I’ve come to realize that my values are far too different from what I’ll have to accept to stay at the law firm, even with Sam there and the firm treating me as a star– which means I’m working until midnight seven days a week in solid monthly clips. I can’t even see my kids but for a few hours or so on erratic days.  There is no end in sight.  They want to put me on the firm’s newly formed “tender-offer team.”   That means a partnership at some point soon and lifetime security.  But things at work only will intensify, time will disappear, the kids will grow up and I’ll never know what happened to my life.  I’ve had enough of this.  I decide to leave and join some friends with values more like mine who’d left a year earlier to start their own practice.

 

When I tell Sam of my decision to leave the firm I’m surprised at his reaction – he isn’t surprised at all.  I think he saw this coming.  He doesn’t try to convince me to stay in New York.  Instead, he asks that I reconsider moving to Washington so I can join the firm’s DC office.  He knows I’m friends with several partners there and “it’s a better fit” for me.  But I’ve made up my mind and, no matter what the reason, a move to Washington wrecks my chance to spend more time with my kids.  So, I say no, and he wishes me well.

 

Less than a year later, Sam writes a brief note, opens the window to his magnificent apartment overlooking the Carlyle Hotel and jumps to his death.  I have no idea what he wrote beyond “I’m sorry” or why – no matter what was troubling him – he did what he did.  He was one of the most successful and well-regarded lawyers in the world.   He’d achieved greatness beyond any I could ever dream of for myself and yet, obviously, decided his life was not worth living.  I wonder if things would have been different for Sam had he believed “Nothing is more highly to be prized than the value of each day.”

 

I’ve come to accept the life-changing merit of practicing that credo, for today I’m a happily married grandfather who (nearly) every day gets to do precisely what he values most (writing, not law).   

 

But don’t take my word for it, look at Jimmy Carter and the life he and his wife Rosalynn led after leaving The White House.  What he’s done to foster decades of good works around the world is inspirational by any measure to those who care about the welfare of others.

 
Thank you, Jimmy, and may your name as well of those of my father, Sam, and the Chairman, be a blessing for eternity.

 

–Jeff

 

 

The Hallmark Christmas Wedding!

I’ve decided to turn my hand to writing a script for a Hallmark movie. 

So, what do you think of this?

The heroine of our story is living in the big city and has suffered one personal tragedy too many, so she abandons her very successful career in business, swaps the executive suits for big jumpers and wellies, and heads north to the land of her birth. 

Being the heroine of our story, she’s not prepared to sit down and put her heels up. She spies a small shop unit on the high street on a small town very close to the back of beyond. She decides to open a book shop. 

Meanwhile, in front of a roaring fire with a faithful hound and a podgy cat, sits the hero of our story. He in an crime author writing multi-award winning fiction. He has had his own degree of heartache and takes refuge in the company of his dog, his cat and a friend called Jack Daniels.

Our heroine works hard and gets the bookshop open, employs some staff, one of whom is really good at making cupcakes.

The fairy god mother goes into the bookshop and the heroine is panicking. She’s been asked to supply the books for a big book festival. How will she manage all the boxes in her wee car?

The fairy god mother says 'Do not worry, I have a friend with muscular arms who shall lift all the boxes of books for you.'

 And so the hero and the heroine come together for the first time.

He lifts boxes. She tells him where to put them.

She so touched by his generosity and his refusal to take payment ( I'm doubting he's Scottish now), she offers him her premises for a book launch.

However, as this is a Hallmark movie things do not run smoothly. 

Our heroine hosts an event at the bookstore with special cupcakes, the star of the book event is our hero. Unfortunately our heroine’s plans are dashed by a lady with bouncy hair and a glint in her eye. And the hero is a bit dense. Maybe he is Scottish.

Once again our heroine retreats to the back of the till, with cupcakes and a Mills and Boon or, a good crime novel, depending on her mood. 

But true love always finds a way and once again our hero, now untangled is called to help out at the bookshop to lift heavy boxes. He is very happy to do so. 

Our heroine offers to take him out for a meal to say thankyou. 

The hero, a daft sod at the best of times, doesn’t realise that he’s been asked out on a date and says 'It's okay, it's fine. Happy to do it.'

Then, at some incident, as yet unscripted, a huge penny drops, and our hero and heroine get together. It might have involved Jack Daniels and a cupcake.

The author and the book shop owner, the cat, the dog, the Jack Daniels all live happily ever after.

I don’t write romantic fiction, you’ve probably noticed.

The above is NOT fiction. ( Well, loosely based on fact... the cat is quite thin really)The lovely Sarah and the handsome Douglas got married on the 28^th December 2024.

The wedding was very Hallmark.

The minister said that this was the first wedding he's done in a bookshop, "so that’s novel". The bride looked beautiful, Douglas’s jokes hadn’t improved, it was a dark and stormy night. 

Well behaved little children in kilts were employed to deliver Prosecco like the Bow Street Runners during Prohibition. 

They were married in front of family and friends, the cake was surrounded by cupcakes each with a hand painted cover of their favourite 20 books. 

And if that’s not impressive enough, the person who did the cakes, Sarah’s daughter, had a baby 9 weeks ago. The  baby stayed in its papoose and didn’t make a sound.

I know many of you bloggers know Douglas and I’m sure we all wish them all the health and happiness. 

Exit movie, end credits with Sarah and Douglas sitting on a Bridge in the Highlands with the snow falling and Mickey the dog looking his handsome best.

PS  the fairy god mother was crime writer Gordon Brown, yes, all six feet four of him!

Cheers to 2025

A Second New Year's Day - Michael and Stanley

 Michael  – Alternate Thursdays

 

When this post is published, I'll be in Melbourne at the start of a road trip around Victoria and South Australia. Also, I wanted something appropriate for January 2nd and South Africa has exactly the right event to celebrate it. This post was written by Stanley who published it fifteen years ago. Thanks, Stan.  I’ve just updated it a bit. So here we go.

For most of us, New Year’s Day falls on January 1st.  It does so in Cape Town too.

 

But Cape Town has a second New Year – the only place in South Africa to do so – which, in Cape Town alone is also an unofficial holiday.  Tweede Nuwe Jaar (Second New Year) takes place on January 2, and is a festival of parades and music by groups (klopse) of ‘coloured’ minstrels bedecked in the brightest of costumes.  (In South Africa, ‘coloured’ means of mixed blood, and Cape Town has many offspring from the transgressions of its earlier settlers – mixed marriages have never been common here and have usually been illegal, although the evidence of mixed intercourse is everywhere.)

 

The Cape Town Minstrel Carnival, as it is now known, was once called the Coon Carnival, and is usually still called that by the participants and spectators.  The more politically correct name came about because the politicians thought the old one was derogatory and sent the wrong message.

 

The Carnival is very old, starting in the mid-1800’s, and its costumes and face make-up must have been modeled after American outfits.  It's said that the festivities were quickly used by people lower down on the racial pecking order to poke fun at their masters.  Today tens of thousands minstrels hit the streets after weeks of frenzied sewing to get the costumes ready.  Not only is there music for entertainment – ukuleles and banjos in abundance - but the various groups are also competing for prizes, and the competition is intense.  Needless to say, Tweede Nuwe Jaar is a very popular tourist attraction and is one of the most popular events on Cape Town’s calendar.

Round about the turn of the century, it looked as though rain was going to fall on the parade.  The Western Cape government dropped the official January second public holiday (perhaps feeling that South Africa had enough of them already).  Needless to say, nobody paid any attention to the politicians, and it has remained a de facto holiday. Then, during covid it was cancelled for two years for rather obvious reasons. But it was back stronger than ever after that. 

 

It has also become a very significant tourist attraction, and Cape Town in summer is about nothing if it’s not about tourists. As Stan said in his post all those years ago:

“I for one think that quirky events like the Coon Carnival bring colour to a city and should be encouraged.  Unfortunately, there are people in power who want to take the colour (coloureds?) out of town for reasons that are opaque.  Or maybe transparent.

“No matter what happens, I will always celebrate Tweede Nuwe Jaar and think fondly of the Coon Carnival.  I say ‘Bah humbug’ to the nay-sayers.”

 

Happy New Year, everyone. And Happy Second New year too!

A Fashionable New Year: Carry-on Tips for India

 Sujata Massey

 

Happy New Year’s Day! And think of me right now, rolling along the streets of Bengalaru with my carryon suitcase. 

Hopefully, all that I’ve crammed into the hardshell for a 2-week trip will actually get worn. Packing is an acquired wisdom, and every trip I take teaches me something. The white lace blouse that summons fantasies of sweet lime drinks on the veranda never left the hanger. The flat, platinum-colored leatherTaos sandals—oh, my gosh, yes, tromping everywhere from fancy restaurants to the museum and beach.

 

The most useful travel wardrobes are not organized at the last minute; it's a matter of laying clothes out and writing it down, to see redundancies and omissions. A lot like editing a book, isn't it?  But the reality is that as much as I enjoy packing, I still sometimes don't wear one or two items and yearn for something left at home. What will I really use over 14 days that when I’m in city and country, cool hill stations and hot beaches, churches and restaurants, unpaved village roads and Apollo Bunder in Mumbai?  

 

The Bangalore Palace

Over the next two weeks I’ll arrive in Bengaluru, once known as Bangalore. After a couple of days' acclimation, we will  take a car ride through Karnataka to the old royal enclave of Mysore, and then climb into a misty cool hill station named Coorg.

Coorg Wilderness Resort Hotel

Then it's back in the car  to the Bengaluru Airport to fly to Mumbai, where it's two nights of research and visiting friends before taking a train to Goa for almost a week's stay. On day 14 we fly Goa-Bengalaru-Washington DC. 

 

The trip was originally intended for some India train research, including a 5-night ride on the Golden Chariot, a tourist train with overnight compartments. However, this plan derailed (haha!) due to a low number of reservations. Because Indian Railways was the one that cancelled, I got the deposit back and had to figure out another way to use my scheduled time in India.

 

Silva Heritage, a Goa 300-year-old dwelling turned hotel

I’ been reading Around India in 80 Trains, a delightful travel memoir by Monisha Rajesh. Through the many train rides Monisha describes, I got the idea of taking a regular train from Mumbai to Goa, which is a particularly scenic route. There’s an express train taking this route with a special passenger car that has all-glass walls and ceiling, for maximum viewing of the Konkan coast. So the Vistadome car  will be the first train ride of this trip. I’m hoping for a few more excursions on regular trains once we reach Goa. 

 

I try to travel to India every 10-15 months., and typically I’ve used a larger checked suitcase because I’m carrying about 10 books as gifts. This year, I didn’t have a new book to carry—so that means less weight and room to worry about. Also fueling the bring-less mindset were a few videos on YouTube about a so-called “three-day-method” and “5-4-3-2-1 method” that encourage people to really pare down their clothing choices. That’s the way I’m going: with one carry-on and a personal item. Here's what I'm bringing in terms of tech, clothing, and extras.

 

TECH PLAN: Hooray! The personal item tote-bag  will be a lot lighter on my shoulder because I’m not bringing a laptop. I’d like to be more unplugged and thus am bringing an iPhone and charger only (my husband will have an iPad he promises to share). My phone carrier, ATT, charges $10 a day to use my phone abroad. This might seem pricey, but I’ve had really bad experiences over the last 20 years spending hours and days trying to buy local phones in India that inevitably are very hard to use. The other thing I've tried was bringing one of my old cell phones and buying a SIM card at the airport that turns out to work very poorly if at all. So, I'm sticking to ATT. This will be the third time I’m using my phone this way, and I've found the trick to it working seamlessly is to go to settings and set the roaming feature to default to the strongest network, which for me has been JIO. if you don’t set a default, phone will keep scanning for random networks. Be sure your number is shared with your India contacts through Whats App, so they can call you without incurring charges. 

 

Charging phones and tech is also tricky because of India’s 230 voltage versus USA's 110. Supposedly Apple devices have universal plugs, but I’ve had a MacAir laptop motherboard fried and needing a full replacement in India. My husband and I have also blown out the circuits at multiple hotel rooms trying to charge laptops and iPads. If anything bad happens to your Apple tech, don’t attempt a repair without going to an Apple Store to keep your repair warranty safe. However, this process could take days, as authorized Apple retailers even in locations like Mumbai may need to get the part sent from Delhi. To avoid emergencies like this, use converter plugs meant for India’s current AND charge your power bank on these plugs, so the risk of something adverse is limited. You can safely charge your electronic items using powerbanks only. I’ve been OK charging my phones straight into the converter (fingers crossed, always). Finally, you might want to add a VPN app to your phone to protect your data from being swiped. Tony and I are sharing a VPN for one months's time that covers 5 devices for just $15 total.

 

CLOTHING

 

A favorite airy travel top from Ritu Kumar

Clothes are certainly not as complicated to plan as tech. My mantra is to always be yourself and stay comfortable. That said: unless you're an Indian male, if you wear a backpack, a ballcap and athletic shoes on the streets, you'll likely be identified as an American or British tourist and receive a particular kind of attention. I don't like having an entourage so I dress as well traveling as I would at home. For instance, I always wear loose blouses, skirts and trousers out in town, although I’m very comfortable in shorts and a bathing suit at the hotel (with a cover-up over the bathing suit when not in the water or the pool chair). 

 

While saris have made a comeback with some fashionistas, typically Indian women wear flowing trousers with longer tops, or skirts and dresses made in India from beautiful silks, cottons, and next-level synthetic textiles. To buy something while there, look at stores like Fab India, Cottons or Ritu Kumar. Every city will have a few boutiques like this and big malls have better quality options than street stalls. Many of these garments are embroidered and stitched by textile artists in villages, so you can be fashionable and local at the same time. 

salwar kameez in Kolkata years ago

 

Years ago, I wore salwar kameez (tunic, stole and pajama trousers) outfits quite a lot in India. But street style has changed and these days, I keep traditional ensembles for important social events. I’ll always bring a beautiful long silk dupatta to work as an outfit accessory, providing extra style as well as comfort in air-conditioned places. Aside from this, my general choices are wide-legged pants, whether cotton from India or quality denim from the US; loose fitting tops that aren’t low cut, and skirts that cover the knee. I bring one pair of clean, colorful sneakers for travel, fitness walking and sightseeing, but a pair of worn-in Taos flat sandals in a metallic leather works just as well. 

 

Please do wear jewelry in India; I’ve made the mistake of forgetting to pack any earrings and necklaces and felt like I was partly dressed in comparison to local women who always have something pretty at the neck, ears, wrist, and sometimes the nose. Jewelry and scarves are wonderful things to buy in India; I particularly recommend going to cottage industry stores representing the state you visit, and the reasonably priced modern fine jewelry chain store called Tanishq. I’ve even impulsively bought fine jewelry at the airport shops on my way out of India. You should not leave India without buying at least a little jewelry! 

 

For the plane I’m wearing the same outfit I usually bring for a winter trip to India: my red Taos Carousel canvas sneakers, Anthropologie’s Maeve wide-leg jeans, a long sleeve red-coral-white silk blouse from Johnny Was, and a gray cashmere ruana from Quince to also serve as a blanket.  

 

Here is the rest of my packing list. I really did get all of this into a small carryon because I use compression cubes (hardshell carryon case and compression cubes from Quince, if you are the market for something new). Almost all the tops and bottoms can be mixed.

 

Loose cream straight-leg polyester pleated pants 

Grey cotton capri pants

Brown tech poly jogger pants

Black-white patterned shorts

Ankle-grazing dark blue-print polyester skirt

Blue and coral printed wrap skirt, knee-length

Mid-calf burgundy silk skirt

Casual Blue cotton gauze dress/swimwear coverup

 

White crinkle poly blouse, sleeveless

White button-down shirt, sleeveless

Black T-shirt (borrowed from spouse)

Coral cotton broadcloth button up blouse with mid-length sleeves

Navy blue silk short-sleeved top

Navy blue cardigan

 

1 Bathing Suit

Underwear for 6 days (will use laundry and detergent packages) 3 pairs socks

Flat packing hat

Two scarves: one short chiffon square, one very long rectangular dupatta

 

Coach Whitley Mary Janes

Taos Trophy sandal 

 

Toiletries galore, small sizes in a waterproof carrying case! Be sure to include mosquito repellant wipes

 

EXTRAS SUCH AS GIFTS

If you’re going to someone’s home or meeting someone professionally, it’s very nice to bring them a gift from the U.S. Signed books by you or others are enthusiastically received. Other items I’ve liked to bring are packaged nonperishables from Trader Joe’s or similar yummy specialty stores. Warning: chocolate always seems to melt. This year I’m bringing a special American biscuit baking mix, two candles, and some specialty nuts. Just three gift books will be making the journey…and because of my packed carry-on, I’ll have to ask my husband to be responsible for them. 

 

May the new year bring everyone happiness, and perhaps a special trip! If the packing's done over the course of three days, the hardest part of leaving will be saying goodbye to your pet.