Surfing Dude

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Surfing Dude Page 14

by Ed Nelson


  That thought ran around my head for a while and settled on the fact I had to acknowledge all people I dealt with in a good manner. Not that I wasn’t nice when we were together, but that I had to show I thought about them when we were not together.

  It could be simple things like sending birthday cards. How could I implement such a plan? I finished up my work on the stables for the day and cleaned up. Since it wasn’t late I went in search of Mum and Dad.

  They were watching the television, but weren’t that into the show, so turned it off for me.

  “What’s on your mind Rick?”

  “I have been thinking about all the people I’m involved with and my relationships with them. I don’t think I’m doing enough to foster those relationships and recognize them for their efforts, nothing big, like remembering their birthdays.”

  Dad replied, “That’s an interesting thought. The same thing has been going through my mind recently. We are meeting so many new people in our different endeavors; it is hard to keep track of them. At the same time it is in our best interest to do so, and the nice thing to do. What I’ve noticed recently is more people remember me, than I them.”

  “Yeah, we usually are in the more memorable position, so they remember us, but most of them are in a crowd situation, and it’s almost impossible to remember them, and yet at the same time I want to.”

  Mum chimed in, “Anna gives every business card she receives to her secretary. In turn her secretary keeps a file on who she met, where, what the meeting was about and any personal facts that Anna noted on the back of the card. That way if she ever goes back to that group or organization, she can refresh her memory.”

  “That’s a good start, but I want to go even further. I’m going to talk to others like Mr. Monroe at Warner Brothers.”

  “That’s a good idea Rick, keep me posted.”

  I returned to my room and picked up a book to read, but realized I was tired and went right to sleep.

  Chapter 25

  After my normal morning rituals, I headed over to the studio. I was half way there when I realized I hadn’t thought about tigers once, which was a good thing.

  I was lucky. Mr. Monroe was in and had time for me.

  “What’s up Rick?”

  “I have a few questions about contacts. I meet many people and feel that I should do something to remember them and also treat them like real people rather than just a face in the crowd.”

  “Ah, some people never catch on to that. Most actors are rather poor about it, letting the studio track fan’s etc. The best at it are politicians.”

  “I don’t know about politics, but it seems it is in my best interest to build a true contact base.”

  “What sort of contacts do you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking more in the business sense rather than my fan base.”

  “That’s good thinking Rick. A fan base is great, but you need to hold them to a certain distance. Most of them are good people, but there is the occasional fruit cake out there.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “What levels of business contacts are you thinking of?”

  “Well I thought of sending everyone a birthday card.”

  “If I remember right you have several factories with quite a few workers.”

  “The last number I heard I have almost a thousand employees now.”

  “Wow Rick, you really are going places, why do you even bother to act?”

  “It’s fun, and keeps me out of a classroom, plus you never know when being a little famous might help.”

  “A little famous, let me see; acting, singing, saving the Queen of England, working as a deck hand, multiple lives saved, tigers shot, robbers captured, even bad guys killed, yeah I’d say you’re famous.”

  “When you put it that way I must be, but none of it seemed a big deal at the time.”

  “That is why you are not only famous, but also liked. You are truly modest, without being falsely modest. I keep telling Nina she shouldn’t have gone to Switzerland.”

  The look on my face must have been something because he bursts out laughing.

  “Got you Rick, Nina and you are both too young to settle down. Now let’s get back to the subject, acknowledging people you have met, or who work for you, and you may never meet.”

  “May never meet?”

  “Certainly, you will have people who work in your factories you will never meet. You may visit the factory occasionally but people will not always be there, or would have come and gone between visits.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I have that problem here at the studio. Now let’s talk about birthday cards. Is it appropriate to send a card to someone you have never met?”

  “Not really.”

  “Think about sending a thank you card for each year they work for you. Do that for every level of worker that you don’t deal with. It is a personal touch, but it is an appropriate touch.”

  “Now those that you deal with on a routine basis might merit the card. I would suggest that you also have a clipping service keep track of those at a certain level of acquaintance, that way you can send an appropriate message.”

  “What’s an appropriate message?”

  “It depends upon the event, a birth and a death would rate different cards.”

  “Oh, I get it.”

  “I assume you have a business office.”

  “Yes over on Rodeo Drive in one of Dad’s buildings.”

  “You need to have someone on staff over there take care of that for you.”

  “That all makes sense, thank you very much Mr. Monroe.”

  “While you are here I have a favor to ask. Jim Garner was supposed to play golf on Saturday morning with a couple of investors. He can’t make it for personal reasons could you fill in for him?”

  “I have no plans so sure.”

  He gave me the guy’s name which meant nothing to me and our tee time at the Calabasas Country Club. Mr. Monroe had never met the guy so knew nothing about him or his golf game.

  From there I headed to my office. There I sat down with Jim Williamson and explained what I would like to accomplish in recognizing people I dealt with. He in turn explained a fact of life to me. I would have to hire someone to handle this as the staff was overbooked as it was.

  We discussed this some more. I gave him permission to hire someone, and that he was to handle the entire issue. My job would be to sign cards and write messages. Of course, I would have to come up with the initial list and update it as time went on.

  We decided on three levels. Close friends and family, I would write a personal message and sign a card for each significant event, birthday, Christmas, graduations, etc. I would be on my own with gifts, other than a reminder to purchase one. Next would be people I met but wasn’t close to such as the makeup people at the studio, my old scout leaders and others. I would sign a card but no personal message. The last group would be people who worked for me. They would receive a congratulations and Thank You for their service on their employment anniversary. This would be a card with my signature printed on it. There would also be Sympathy cards as needed.

  We would also contract with a clipping service to track stories on people I had met such as General Hawthorne or the Mayor of Vincennes Indiana and about my various products and companies. These were to be reviewed before showing them to me, or I would do nothing but read articles.

  I felt lucky to get out of a large project so easily. Well, I still would have to sign a lot of cards, and make certain the project got off the ground okay.

  I was given an update on my businesses. They had it down to a fifteen minute presentation if nothing major was happening. This week it was money in and money out, fortunately more in than out.

  Hairdryers were way ahead of projections, and the head of home products thought we would continue like this for some time. It currently was acting as a cash cow as Jim Williamson called it, but the real money would b
e in the containerized shipping business.

  The government subsidies to expand the ports and ships that could use the system were being spent rapidly but the GAO who had just audited the expenditures reported that this was one of the most efficient operations they had ever seen.

  Apparently, what had been considered a nest of corruption, the unions on the docks, weren’t only doing their part; they were keeping the port operators on the straight and narrow. I wonder why, well not really.

  I had a while before my date with Emily so I headed home and wrote two essays that were required for my schoolwork. They both were on required topics. One was so-so, but the other was very interesting. What would be the future effects of Presidents Eisenhower’s interstate highway system?

  His reasoning was as a defense highway, based on the logistics support the autobahn gave the German army. He also remembered a trip when he was a young officer moving a detachment to San Francisco. It took over a month to lead the convoy he was in across the continent.

  I had seen the TV special where they talked about going across the entire country without having to stop for one traffic light. Certainly, it would have to have an effect on the economy and where people lived.

  The other essay was boring. I had to write about how air conditioning might change where people lived. I couldn’t see that would have much effect, but put some stuff down that it would make the South more livable.

  Emily answered the door wearing a black dress with pink poodles and a pink blouse. Her hair was tied in a ponytail with a pink scarf. She looked pretty sharp.

  We picked up the others and went to the local roller rink. It was a modern rink with plastic floors and the skates all had plastic wheels so it was quiet, well as quiet as a roller rink could be. It was fun all evening. At one point, we stopped for a sandwich and drinks. A group of three guys joined us. Emily introduced me to them.

  I didn’t really catch their names, but one of them, Roman was Captain of the football team and the quarterback. I found this out from Emily, who gushed over him as she introduced us. They didn’t stay around very long.

  After skating we went back to Emily’s, she seemed anxious to get home and call it a night. I did get a peck on the cheek. I had a good time skating, but the evening wasn’t what I had thought it would be. A little necking would have been great.

  Saturday morning after my usual daily ritual I headed to the country club for my foursome. At the Starters desk, I found out the other people were a Judge Smails, Mr. Noonan and Mr. Loomis. They had arrived and were on the putting green.

  Usually, when meeting people on the golf course the first time, there are polite introductions all around. This was not to be. Judge Smails thought James Garner would be there and was upset that I was sent instead.

  He wanted to know why some kid actor was sent instead of Mr. Garner. When I explained the situation, it didn’t calm him down. He finally seemed to accept the fact that I was going to be his fourth. The other guys had shaken my hand and not got involved in the conversation, well not a conversation as it was Judge Smails doing ninety percent of the talking, most of which was complaining about someone of his stature being stood up.

  He asked if I knew how to play golf. I replied that I knew the rules, and didn’t think I would embarrass myself on the course.

  He sneered at that and asked if I could play real men’s golf. He continued on that real men bet Nassau style. I had heard of it but asked him to explain. He went on in great detail to tell me bets on the front nine, back nine, all eighteen, pressing or doubling the bet, the trailing player being able to press the bet, not pressing on nine or eighteen, an automatic press if a player was two holes down and finally press double.

  It sounded complicated as all get out.

  “Kid, how much money do you have on you?”

  I pulled out my wallet, which contained forty seven dollars.

  “What I thought, a second rate actor with nothing to do, how much are they paying you to play?”

  “Nothing, Mr. Monroe asked me to play as a favor.”

  “Was that a blank check I saw in your wallet?”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “Fine then we will play for a one hundred dollar Nassau, if you can’t cover it Mr. Monroe will have to for sticking it to me.”

  I hadn’t paid a lot of attention to the rules of the bet, but I could tell this could get very expensive.

  Mr. Noonan tried to talk the Judge out of it, saying it wasn’t fair to take advantage of a kid like this. The Judge wasn’t having it. Instead he bullied the other two into making the same bet with me.

  While this was going on I was getting a little steamed. Well actually mad as hell. I did tell him he had better call Mr. Monroe if he expected him to stand behind my bet. Now I hadn’t really accepted the bet up until then, but I let my temper get ahead of me and went for it.

  He stormed off to the pro shop to call Mr. Monroe. While he was gone I looked over my golf bag. My driver was not there as I had not been using it as I was trying more accuracy in my game. I asked Ty my caddy, a boy about my age to retrieve it from my locker.

  Ty and Smails got back about the same time. Smails was still angry but appeared a little puzzled.

  “Monroe says he will back your bet, but that you are good for the money. He also wanted in on the bet so I’m playing for double. Since I intend to beat you every hole I will make twenty-four hundred bucks off of each of you.”

  “Judge Smails what is your handicap?”

  He preened a little as he told me, “I’m a scratch golfer. What’s yours?”

  That meant he played even with par.

  “The last time I had a handicap in the ninth grade it was ten under.”

  I thought he would be impressed.

  Instead he laughed, “Putt-Putt or par three?”

  I didn’t answer him as the Starter called for us.

  The first hole was four hundred and ten yards, a par four. I put my drive near the green and chipped it in for an eagle. That set the tone of the day. I’m not going to give a blow by blow description. I not only won every hole, I set a course record. We had a gallery of fifty people waiting at eighteen.

  Smails was red in the face and getting redder all the time. I thought he might have a heart attack. This concerned me, but not enough to let up on the pressure.

  We went into the club house where Noonan pulled out his check book. Loomis had a wad of cash.

  “You clown’s going to pay him? We were set up. I’m not paying him a damn dime.”

  There were enough people in the area that heard this, that we were an instant attraction.

  “Judge I think you had better pay off your bet that you insisted on making.”

  “Kid you can’t make me do anything, besides I know people on the docks in Long Beach, and you could get hurt you know.”

  I was in a bit of a quandary about what to do, when a voice spoke up from the crowd that gathered.

  “Hey Ricky, do you think he knows Popeye or Mr. L?”

  Frank Sinatra’s voice is very recognizable.

  Judge Smails really stuck his foot in it. “I know Popeye. Even the union guys are scared of him.”

  “Did you know that he is married to Rick’s Aunt?”

  That stopped Smails in his tracks. He uncertainly replied, “No I didn’t.”

  “I suggest you pay up.”

  Smails was not stupid. He brought out a check book and wrote one for the full amount. He started to put it away.

  “Why don’t you write out Mr. Monroe’s while you are at it?”

  Grudgingly he did.

  Another voice in the crowd said, “Pilgrim, Rick should have just knocked the snot out of you.”

  I started checking the area for water troughs.

  My caddy and the others were still standing around. They hadn’t been tipped for the round.

  The other three golfers brushed by them as they left, stiffing them.

  I had the wad of cash from Loomis and
handed it to Ty.

  “Split it up evenly between yourselves.”

  You want to see faces light up. Ty was happy. The other three were ecstatic after the abuse they had taken out on the course, especially the Judges.

  “Thanks Rick, that guy was really an idiot. I hope to get even with him someday.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  After I took a shower in the club house I stopped at the club restaurant for lunch. The number of people who congratulated me on my round of golf was amazing. The club pro wanted to know if I had kept my score card.

  It was embarrassing to dig it out of the trash can in the locker room. I was so intent on winning the bets it hadn’t sunk in that a new course record wasn’t set every day.

  Strict etiquette would have had the rest in my foursome sign my card as witnesses. Instead the pro and club president signed along with the caddies. A note was even made about the sportsmanship of the rest of the foursome.

  I don’t think any of them will play this course again as the scorecard would be framed and posted in the clubhouse.

  A picture was taken to be put alongside the card. I did refuse an interview with a reporter of the paper that Dad was trying to put out of business.

  Chapter 26

  It was still early enough that I drove over to the airport. If a plane was available, I wanted to get some more time in. There was, so I spent the next five hours circling the area and doing touch and goes. The more I flew the more I enjoyed it.

  I was beginning to know the landscape below me. There were several cattle ranches that looked interesting. One even had its own landing strip. I made a mental note of that, in case I needed an alternate landing site.

  It had been drilled into me that I was always to know if there was a place to set down. I don’t think the odds were that I would have to do so. At least, there wouldn’t be anyone trying to shoot me down. I think Mr. McGarry was a little paranoid, but then they were really trying to shoot him down!

  I got home just before dinner. However it didn’t look like it was going to be a calm family meal. There were several catering trucks in the back lot and people moving with purpose.

 

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