Another truism

                                  IRVING

 

The worst part of my 'blind but semi-arranged' date was
he liked me-liked me enough to ask out again. That made the other worst parts pale. I knew from the first introductory phone call, from his voice, to his inability 4 times to understand the simplest of directions to my home, from his lack of desire to learn anything about me or to tell me about himself, to the sure knowledge that nothing would ever develop once we met AS HE DIDN'T DRIVE. Yet holding on to a very dim spark of hope that maybe she was not thinking straight, Ms. Pollyanna accepted a Sunday date.

 

One thirty, right on time, in came Irving, small, cheesy portfolio under his arm. While he was far from good looking, he was at least slim, acceptable, neat, but oh, those new white tennis shoes stuck out like Dorothy's red slippers. Nice smiles to each other, and a very definite surprised look of pleasure when Irving realized my weighing  300 pounds phone joke was far from reality. Getting to know each other was not easy as in just one minute the two of us became three!  From what he called his 'briefcase' came his son's calling card, his son's book (one of six already in print), articles on his son. AND from his mouth began a four hour salute to his honorable, devoted, famous offspring.
No question, I was impressed. The international notoriety of Richard's abilities amongst the political elite, his T.V. appearances, meetings with maharajahs, princes, kings, presidents while still being a devoted son, husband, father deserved every accolade which rained on my ears too long.

 

There were some respites, dealing with Irving's busy life on eight Boards of Directors of large firms. Each story was a prelude to more stories, and more stories. His flair, excellent vocabulary, remarkable recall, held my attention for a long, long time. Once in a while I was able to squeeze in an anecdote of my own but Irving's arm would fly up, hitting his knee in its descent and in a surprisingly loud voice, he'd exclaim, 'That reminds me of a story!' Off he'd go, his mind pulling out another and another.  Finally, at last, it was time for his designated driver, ME, to take him back to his area for dinner at his clubhouse.

 

On the way I learned why he didn't drive. His wife had been an excellent driver and was happy being the family chauffeur. She was gone. Besides that, Irving's peripheral vision had weakened and he was smart enough to give up his license. For that I gave him a lot of credit.

 

While we waited for our entrees, I managed to ask if he liked to travel and learned his son had been to every state in the union on business, plus London and Israel. In fact, oh, my lord,  had been to every country in the world. 'But what about YOUR travels?' I asked. 'Have you ever been on a cruise. Would you like to go out of the states?' He replied 'Not much...BUT when Richard was flying to the Persian Gulf with president Bush, blah, blah, blah.'

 

His recollections were becoming too long winded and began to upset me. I felt then very, very bad because he was nice and was taken by me, thought I was a good listener (who happened to have no choice.) I was much prettier than he expected me to be. I made him comfortable and he was totally pleased that he met me.

 

Yes, I was the first lady he took out since his wife died so I knew it had to be a difficult time. He was proud as a peacock at dinner, asking me to take the long way out of the dining room just in case he'd see friends and could introduce me. Would I come to his club to play golf, have lunch and drive home in daylight. Does he have a chance? Can I call you?

 

I had tried several times to make him understand that his life is no longer what it was and he should go out, meet lots of ladies, enjoy 'the brisket brigade' which would surely come as soon as his availability spread.  He should join the men's golf group, travel. The tiny microcosm which I quickly had become should not close his eyes to the new world that was available to him. But did he pay attention? No!
Did my mind and mouth work as one? No! Stupidly, instantly regretfully, to let him call me again.

 

However, I  made it clear I would not be his driver.

 

Two days past,  no call, and I clung to the  hope that his promise to work it out would not only be harder than he thought, but impossible, totally impossible.
But that didn't happen and I became a rat who had to beg off enough times that he finally got the message. 

 

And I got one, too. I gave up writing and reading ads that might brighten my life.

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True--I see his son on T.V. often, representing the U.S. He's strong, respected and his last name is Haas. I can tell this story because my 'date' has surely left the building.