The Johnny Cash I Knew. A Kind and Caring Man

On Life and Love After 50 newsletter

Tom P. Blake September 11, 2015

The Johnny Cash I Knew. A Kind and Caring Man

Before I retired on January 30, retired people often told me: "You will wonder where the time goes and be busier than ever."

I suspected they were right. I had been building a bucket list over the years and it had several items on it. The top item: travel with my partner Greta as much as we can while our health permits. In April and May, we took a nice trip to Europe.

Second item on the list: exercise. Stand Up Paddle Boarding (SUP) at Baby Beach in Dana Point Harbor fulfills that goal 3-4 times per week.

Other items: continue writing this column, and then there was preparation for the fantasy football season, which kicks off this week. 

One item had been on the original bucket list since 2005, the year the movie Walk The Line--the portrayal of Johnny Cash's life--was released. I had a problem with the movie; I felt the portrayal of Johnny was way too negative.

Why did that concern me? I knew Johnny Cash and worked with him for two years in the mid-1970s when I was the marketing director for the Victoria Station restaurant chain. I had hired Johnny to do our radio commercials and got to know him well. He was one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet.

That 10-year bucket list item: Write a book that would reveal the kind and caring side of Johnny Cash that I had witnessed first-hand. I simply wanted to set the record straight. Before retiring, I didn't have time to finish it.

Finally, 10 years later, over this summer, I wrote the book. Last week, I put the full-court press on finishing it. If you don't do it that way with a book, you'll never get it done. On Friday, I uploaded the finished book to one of the largest online Ebook bookstores in the world, Smashwords.com.

The title: "The Johnny Cash I Knew. A Kind and Caring Man." Most of the 17 pictures were taken 40 years ago with my old Kodak camera and there are many examples of Johnny's kindness in the book.

 



 



To read more about this book, or to purchase it as an ebook on Smashwords.com, follow the link

Tom's Johnny Cash book on www.smashwords.com

The most unique experience with Johnny: Going into San Quentin Prison with him for a concert.

Many older people tell me they want to write a book, to leave a legacy for their families. Ebooks are a great way to accomplish that goal without much cost, and, after they are published, they can be updated and changed. I invite readers to contact me if they have questions about ebook publishing.

So, with the book published, it's time to turn to other bucket list items, but which ones? Therein lies the challenge of retirement: which activity to tackle next? Those retirees who said "You'll be busier than ever" were right.

Maybe I'll open a restaurant. Nope, already done that one for 26 years. It's probably time for another trip with Greta.

Willie Nelson rain out at Orange County Fair 2015

Rolling with the punches: Sunday July 19, 2015

On Life and Love After 50 Newsletter

My partner Greta and I had our first date on June 27, 1998. We met at my deli when she ordered a fresh carrot juice. A couple of weeks later, we attended the Orange County (California) fair. I remember vividly going to the fair that year because we saw Jose Feliciano perform.

That 1998 concert was a no-ticket-needed, no-reserve-seating, event and I was pleased that Greta insisted we get in line early enough to get a great seat. When the gates opened, she ran, and I mean ran, and grabbed two front-row seats. I said to myself, this is the type of woman I want in my life.

The annual fair has become a tradition for us. Each year since 1998, we've checked out who is performing in concert at the fairgrounds' Pacific Amphitheatre, choose an entertainer or group we like, and purchase the best tickets available as early as we can. A concert ticket gets you into the fair for free.

I'm a country music fan. Greta enjoys some country but isn't as avid as I am--for her no cowboy hat or boots, no Hank Williams Jr. t-shirt, just comfortable summer clothes for an outdoor concert under the stars.

We've seen Alan Jackson a couple of time's there. I call him "The Dude." Once we sat behind the mixing control booth and after the show, the producer gave us Alan's hand-written playlist, which I thought was a big deal.

This year, I ordered tickets for us to see Willie Nelson this past Sunday night at the fair. I've been a huge fan of Willie's, even before I got to work with Johnny Cash in 1977 and 1978. Johnny and Willie were buddies, but I never got to meet Willie. I said to Greta, "Chances are, this is the last time we will get to see Willie Nelson perform. He's 82."

Greta insisted I read Willie's new autobiography, "A Long Story," on her Kindle, on the flight home from Germany in June. It's a great book and it fired me up even more about seeing him in person--the guy is a classic.

I was excited because also Alison Krauss and her group, Union Station, were going to be the opening act. How often do you get to see a legend like Willie Nelson and one of the hottest bluegrass-country acts in the world (27 Grammys for Alison Krauss) on the same stage for $47 a ticket?

Our seats weren't the greatest, they were in the back of the Amphitheatre, dead center, about 10 rows behind the mixing control booth, near where we had sat for Alan Jackson. But, at least they were in the arena. On the day before, we received an email from the OC Fair reminding us of the concert.

In California, it never rains in July. Never! We are in the midst of the worst drought in the state's history. Water rationing is everywhere. On Saturday, a little, much-appreciated, El Nino rain fell on Orange County. It was supposed to let up on Sunday.

On Sunday morning, we received another email saying, "Rain or shine, the concert will go on." That reassured us somewhat, even though the skies were grey. We took rain ponchos to the fair with us just in case.

Our plan was to meet our friends Ron and Lee at the Baja Blues Restaurant that is located within the fairgrounds at 5:15 p.m. They would be with another couple and the six of us would eat and attend the concert together.

Rain started to fall at the fair around 4 p.m. Greta and I headed for the restaurant early to secure a table for six. By the time we got there, it was pouring rain and there was not a vacant table inside or out. The humidity was high. It felt like New Orleans or Houston in the summer.

Greta and I were standing outside under a roof overhang, with ponchos on, when lo and behold, a group left a table that was under an umbrella next to us. We grabbed it and gathered six chairs.

Our friends Ron and Lee arrived shortly. The other couple had stayed home. We ordered food and drink, had our meal, and kept repeating, "This rain will end soon." Here's how the table next to us looked:

 

The tables next to ours

 

And Ron took this picture of our table

The rain was letting up. Ron checked the night time local weather report: 73 percent chance of rain. He said, "That means, a 27-percent chance it will be dry."

Ron asked to see our tickets. He said, "We have our friends' tickets in the car. They won't be using them. They are great seats and you can have them." He said he'd come to our seats to get us and lead us down to the other seats.

Greta and I went to our seats behind the mixing booth. There were rain covers protecting the mixing equipment , completely blocking the stage from view. That would have been a real bummer, but I reminded myself that Ron was going to move us to the better seats. Greta, in her always positive way, said, "See how blessed we are."

The new seats were in Row B, 10 feet from the stage. We could not believe that we were going to see Willie Nelson from the best concert seats we had ever had.

 

Close to the stage but no concert

The rain began to fall again. We had our ponchos on. A public announcement was made: "It is OK to put your umbrellas up, but during the show, you will have to put them down." A sea of umbrellas opened like spring flowers.

Stage hands were busy using squeegees to remove the water from the partially covered stage. The microphones were covered with plastic bags. Instruments were covered. I started to get that sinking feeling that these wonderful seats were not going to be of much help.

Showtime, 7:30 p.m., came and went. The stage had puddles everywhere.

At 7:45 p.m., the public announcer said, "The news is not good..." The show was cancelled, it was too dangerous on stage. The show would be re-scheduled. An email later that night at home repeated that the show would be re-scheduled.

No one booed. Most everybody was wet to some degree. People stood up and left orderly. It took two hours to get out of the parking lot because everyone was trying to leave at once.

Ron sent me a text from his car: "I can't figure out how, but somehow we still had fun."

And Ron is right. Sure it was disappointing to not see Willie and Alison Krauss. But, you can't mess with nature. It just wasn't meant to be. We had a memorable time, which we will never forget. I do hope there still will be a chance to see Willie in person sometime soon. He's an all-time classic.

On Wednesday, we received the fourth email about the concert: "The concert will not be rescheduled. You can get your refund at..."

Yea...yea...yea. (We did get the refund from Ticketmaster, within just a few days)

People are similar wherever you go

People are similar wherever you go

"On Life and Love After 50" Newsletter

by Thomas P. Blake

Each Friday, I publish the On Life and Love After 50 Newsletter by email. I call my subscribers Champs, because that is what they are. Our Champs live across the USA and Canada, and in many foreign countries. Their living situations vary greatly. Some live in the same cities in which they grew up. Others, like Joanne, have lived in many different states.

In early April, 2015, before my partner Greta and I left on our trip to Europe, Joanne updated me about her living situation. She said, “I have lived all over the country and have enjoyed every minute. Right now, I am in Albuquerque and I like it here. I’m not considering moving again. I have met so many people and learned so much from them it has been a great experience.”

I responded to Joanne by asking: “How did you come to choose Albuquerque? From where before that? Is making friends there difficult?”

Joanne said, “I had never lived in New Mexico. I lived in Georgia, California, Texas, Nevada (Las Vegas), Hawaii, Arkansas, Michigan, North Carolina, Florida, and there may be a few more.

“Five years ago, a friend asked me if I wanted to move back to Georgia. Something was pushing me in that direction. When I got there, after a few months, I found out he had cancer. He has been a great friend and I was so glad I was there. It gave me a lot of time to spend with him before he passed away.

“On my way to Georgia from Las Vegas (he used to ‘talk’ me across the country), I told him I had never lived in New Mexico and thought I should at some point. I was born and raised in Michigan but never liked it.

“When I found this apartment in Albuquerque, I ‘jumped’ on it. I love it here and moved about eight weeks ago. (Now, it has been 16 weeks). I’m a ‘people person’ and never have much trouble meeting people. Everyone I have met so far seems nice, and, of course, I always have my radar up and working."

Joanne continued: People are the same everywhere you go. They have different faces and names but still the same traits. I keep saying if whatever you are looking for isn’t in Albuquerque, you probably don’t need it! At 70 now and thinking I should probably sit still. I’m sure you’ve noticed this too, but the farther west you go, the less uptight people are. I love the diversity in the people here too. Also, the Native American culture fascinates me and there is a lot of that here.”

I know of another woman Champ who also moved to Albuquerque; perhaps she and Joanne will get together sometime.

In reading Joanne’s email, I couldn’t help but think of the Johnny Cash song, “I’ve been everywhere.” In the song, Johnny rattles off the places he’s been including Albuquerque. That could be Joanne’s theme song.

(I traveled with Johnny Cash often in the 1970s when he did radio commercials for Victoria Station, the restaurant chain, for whom I was marketing director. For more information on Tom's association with Johnny, see the link at the end of this article)

But one thing Joanne said in her email really struck a chord with Greta and me: “People are the same everywhere you go.”

We have met many different people on our trip. Here we are in Germany, a country that our country was at war with some 70+ years ago. And yet, the people here, and in Hungary, and in Austria, where we’ve also been on this trip, are very similar to us. They want peace, love and harmony in the world.

Greta and I believe that as we travel these foreign lands, we can make a very small contribution to world harmony by being friendly, considerate, respectful and interested in what the local people have to say. We are tiny diplomats of peace in the world.

Two recent examples: On Sunday, in the pouring rain, we popped into a coffee shop in Bamberg, Germany, to escape the cold and wet. A young waitress, about 20 years old, was so excited when she found out that we were from California, she said, “Oh, I can’t believe this,” and was so friendly to us (the coffee shop was filled with young students) that we gave her our email address in case she wants to visit.

On Tuesday, Greta and I were walking across the Main Bridge in Wurzburg, Germany. Near the middle of the river, we sat on a concrete bench to enjoy the beauty around us--a large castle with vineyards growing on steep hills up to the castle, beautiful churches, river barges passing below on the river, stately Roman statues on the bridge--when we noticed near us a family--grandpa, grandma, son and granddaughter taking a bottle of Wurzburg-labeled champagne and crystal goblets out of their shopping bag. The son popped the cork.

We photographed them toasting on the bridge. They saw us. The older gentlemen asked me in German to take a picture with their camera. He started explaining in German what the occasion was. Then he asked where we were from. California. With that, he switched to broken English, very broken, and excitedly told us about his visit to the American west some 10 years before. His son came over and translated for us.

The older couple’s daughter was in Italy. It was her birthday. The man showed me the gift and card wrapped in bright yellow paper he had for her.

They had told her they would be toasting to her at that time on that bridge. They wanted a picture with us. It was a small-ambassador moment, very heartwarming; borders, war memories and language barriers were replaced with friendships and hand shaking.

The message today was inspired by Joanne’s email. Wherever we travel in the world, wherever we live, for the most part people are the same--they want love and harmony and peace in the world.

Enjoy more stories on www.findingloveafter60.com

To read about Tom's friendship with Johnny Cash, visit this website:

                                       www.VicSta.com

 

                                                 

     Tom's book: Prime Rib & Boxcars. Whatever Happened to Victoria Station?

                            Book cover: Tom and Johnny Cash in 1976

 

To read Tom's travel columns, go to this website: www.TravelAfter55.com

 

 

A nostalgic week-end getaway to see Rosanne Cash perform

A nostalgic week-end getaway to see Rosanne Cash perform

Thirty-eight years ago, I attended a TV show taping at the NBC Studios in Burbank, California. I was there as a guest of singer Johnny Cash, who was a spokesperson for Victoria Station, the restaurant chain for whom I was the marketing director.

At that taping, I was seated in the front row with Rosanne Cash, Johnny’s daughter, who was 22 at the time. John Denver was the master of ceremonies and singers Roger Miller and Glen Campbell were also on the set.

I remember that day quite vividly because Johnny left the stage unexpectedly and Rosanne was concerned because at the time, Johnny's wife June Carter was having some tests done at the Mayo Clinic. However, everything turned out to be OK with June that day.

The reason Johnny left the stage was a prisoner at the Utah State Prison, Gary Gilmore, wanted Johnny to sing him a song before he was executed. Johnny did over the phone and then returned to the stage to finish the taping.

A few months ago, I read that Rosanne was going to appear in concert at the Fred Kavli Theatre at the Thousand Oaks Performing Arts Center at 8 p.m., Friday, March 20. Rosanne is an accomplished musician herself, who won three Grammy awards this year for her album, “The River and the Thread.”

She is often classified as a country singer, but her music combines folk, pop, rock and blues as well.

My partner Greta and I decided to attend Rosanne’s concert and get a hotel room near there so we would not have to drive late at night.

I decided to make it a total Johnny Cash-related trip. Johnny’s manager, Lou Robin, who now handles Johnny’s estate, lives in Thousand Oaks. We’ve been friends for 39 years. Greta and I arranged to meet Lou and his wife Karen for breakfast on Saturday, at a place called Jerry's Famous Deli in nearby Woodland Hills. 

Rosanne’s concert was outstanding. She performed several songs from her Grammy-winning album. At the start of each of those songs, she spent a few minutes narrating the history and background upon which the songs were based, which was a nice personal touch audiences don’t often receive from performers.

She ended the regular part of her concert with her number one single of years back, “Seven Year Ache.” In the encore, she sang the Bob Dylan song, “Girl from the North Country,” a song her dad and Dylan made popular as a duet in 1969. That song was featured in the movie, “The Bridges of Madison County.”

All members of Rosanne’s five-piece band, including her husband John Levanthal, were exceptional musicians. The concert alone made the long drive worthwhile.

After the show, Greta and I went backstage and had a few moments to spend with Rosanne. She and I had a couple of laughs together remembering the old days.

                                   Tom and Rosanne Cash - March 20, 2015

Breakfast the next morning at Jerry’s Famous Deli with Lou and Karen Robin, was equally rewarding. Two hours went by in a jiffy. To listen to stories from Johnny Cash’s manager of 40 years was fascinating for both Greta and me. I learned things about Johnny that I did not know although I traveled with him frequently in the two years we worked together.

Lou was also the manager of Don Ho for a while, after Johnny had passed away.

On the drive home Saturday afternoon, Greta commented on the similarities in mannerisms she noticed between Rosanne and her father Johnny. She added, “Johnny would have been proud of Rosanne’s professionalism.”

It was a special week-end for me; I was happy to be able to share it with Greta, and have her meet these people I have known for years who were so close to Johnny Cash.

Rosanne Cash - Seven year ache

              

Stuff - Clear out the clutter from her attic and keep the relationship

Stuff

Copyright Tom Blake 2015

Holding on to a good mate, keep your clutter out of her attic

Last year, we mentioned comedian George Carlin’s You tube video about “Stuff.” It’s about all of the unnecessary stuff we hoard in our lives and the need to get rid of it. At the end of today’s newsletter, there is a link to his performance. It’s humorous.

When that newsletter ran, I did not anticipate that it would apply to me within the next few months.

Fourteen years ago, I moved into my girlfriend Greta’s home. I said to her, “I have written 973 newspaper columns and two books, I have a lot of stuff to store.”

She said, “Why do you need to keep all of that stuff?”

I said, “When I quote people in a column or a book, I need back up proof that they gave me permission to use the information. That can entail a lot of paperwork.”

Greta said, “I have an attic in the garage; we can put your stuff there.”

Over the years, the amount of stuff stored in her garage grew. I wrote a memoir in 2006 titled, “Prime Rib and Boxcars. Whatever Happened to Victoria Station?” That created another eight boxes of stuff. And in 2009, I published another book, “How 50 Couples Found Love After 50.” Another four boxes of stuff. Not to mention the cases and cases of unsold books that were stored.

Then there was all of the stuff I moved to the attic from my mom’s home when Mom passed. It is amazing what we accumulate in our lives. Boxes and boxes of stuff no one else will ever want.

Oh, when we traveled, we kept files on all of the places we’d been. More stuff to store.

Then, there were another 2,114 columns. Plus, there were records from my home that I had rented out, while living in her home. Also, there were some records from my Dana Point, California, deli—although I had a storage unit at the deli that held most of those records.

The attic in Greta’s garage was like the old coffee company, “Chock Full of Nuts.” Her attic was chock full of stuff (my stuff).

When you own a corporation, you are required to keep seven years of records, in case Uncle Sam or Governor Brown decides to audit you. Egad, that boils down to two or three boxes of records for each month. That’s at least 24 boxes per year, times seven, or about 168 boxes of deli corporate stuff that’s got to be stored somewhere. We had a deli storeroom.

On January 30 this year, I sold the deli; I had to move those 168 boxes from the deli storeroom to somewhere. Where? My sweetie’s garage floor (remember, the attic was chocked full), leaving no room to park a car. My stuff just wouldn’t fit into my garage at my home, where we now live.

And then my wonderful, kind, gracious, partner of 17 years humbly said, “I love you. But, we need the garage stuff moved because we have vacation renters coming to stay in the house and they need to park their car in the garage.”

What she meant was, “In other words, move your stuff to somewhere else. Now.”

Egad again, what to do?

My CPA said, “Rent a storage unit for your deli records. It’s a tax write off.”

So, that’s what I did. I found a place called Price Self Storage in San Juan Capistrano. Their logo looked like the old Price Club logo. That’s because the owner was the Price Club Chief Financial Officer before it became Costco. It’s amazing the trivia we uncover when we venture beyond our boundaries.

The space I rented is seven feet by ten feet. I have spent four days packaging and moving the deli stuff and some of my stuff from Greta’s garage to the storage unit. All the boxes are marked and dated.

I actually had fun doing this.

When Greta saw her garage cleared out, she gave me a big hug. By clearing out my stuff from her home, I remained in good standing in our relationship.

Of course, while sorting through my stuff, I started throwing stuff away. I filled four 50-gallon trash containers. If there is a lesson to learn from this move, it’s to start sorting the stuff you’ve accumulated in attics and garages now--while you’re still capable of doing so. Don’t leave the task for your kids and grandkids. It can be a monumental, emotional task. You find stuff that was significant in your life. That happened numerous times.

For example, I found an autograph on a 3 x 5-inch card from a football player named Ron Kramer who was an All-American at the University of Michigan and a tight end for the Green Bay Packers. I went to his wedding in Jackson, Michigan, in 1958.

I found two photos from 1975. The first is of Johnny Cash, holding his son John Carter, along with Johnny’s wife June, and me.

The second photo is of June Carter Cash and me.

I found a written authorization from Johnny to use his quote on the back of my first book, “Middle Aged and Dating Again.” It was signed, “In the 20 years I have known Tom Blake, he has become an authority on dating and relationships.” The authorization is dated August, 26, 1996.

Going through your old stuff can be heart-wrenching and rewarding. It’s amazing what you will find—stuff about your parents and events that happened to you years before. Stuff you’ve forgotten, stuff you just can’t toss out.

I found a hand-written letter, written by my mom on June 17, 1946, to my dad, when he went to France to help post World War II Europe get back on its manufacturing feet after the war.  

But best of all, I am still in good standing with the woman of my life of 17 years; I got the stuff out of her garage.

Clear out your clutter. It may save your relationship. And you will be doing your heirs a huge favor. And you never know what precious stuff you might find.

Link to George Carlin’s video on stuff:

George Carlin video

At 75, love can take on many forms

On Love and Life After 60

By Thomas P. Blake  November 14, 2014

At 75, love can take on many forms

As we age, love can be experienced in more ways than in just having a partner or seeking a partner. I was reminded of that last Tuesday night.

I never receive snail mail on my birthday. Even back when November 11 was called Armistice Day, the mail didn’t come. Now it’s called Veterans Day and the post office still closes on that day. November 11 has always been a low-key day for me, perhaps because I’m a vet and grateful I never was in an actual battle in my three and a half years of Naval duty. I’m not into fanfare, gifts, or parties on my birthday.

November 11, however, is special to me mainly because it was my mom’s birthday as well.

Tuesday morning, as I headed off to work at my deli, Greta said, “Remember, we are going out for a nice birthday dinner so try to get some rest.” I noted that she didn’t say where we were going, but she does that every year; we always go to a nice restaurant.

I arrived at Tutor and Spunky's, my Dana Point, California deli, hoping that my employees would just finesse the day and not do the gifts, cards, and other thoughtful things they do about 20 times a year, when there is an employee’s birthday. They greeted with hugs and “Happy Birthday” and that was about it. Whew, I was relieved.

Business was light that day. Around 2 p.m., Rosalinda, an employee of 26 years, said, “It’s slow today. Why not take the afternoon off and enjoy your birthday?”

I said, “It’s slow because it’s Veterans Day, why don’t you close early?”

Rosa said, “We will.” And I went home.

When Greta came home at 5:30 p.m. from her afternoon of volunteering at the Ocean Institute, she said, “Put on some nice clothes, remember, we’re going to dinner.” Still no indication from her of where. I was going to suggest pizza at home but didn’t want to be a Grinch.

Guys can get ready in a minute or two to go out. It seemed to me that she was taking her time. And then she said she needed to check her emails. I thought that perhaps our dinner reservation wasn’t until 6:15 or 6:30 and that she was merely stalling a bit. My sister Pam telephoned from San Diego to wish me a Happy Birthday.

Greta drove. We headed south on Pacific Coast Highway. That’s how I usually get to work. Then she turned on the street before the deli that leads down to Dana Point Harbor. I thought we might be going to the Harbor Grill or Harpoon Henry’s, or another of the fine restaurants down there. But, Greta made a quick left turn onto the street behind the deli. I thought, “Oh no, something is up.” But as we passed the deli’s rear deck, I noticed it was dark inside the restaurant so my suspicions of a party at the deli passed.

Then, Greta turned into the deli parking lot. The deli was dark, but I could see some balloons in the window. On the front door, there was a hand-written sign, “Closed. Private party.” We walked into the darkened dining room and then the lights came on and 35 employees, friends and family jumped up and shouted, “Happy Birthday.”

The first couple standing there was my sister Pam and her husband Bob, obviously not in San Diego.

The employees were dressed to the nines, having discarded their aprons for dress-up clothes. There were at least 35 hugs, probably more. Love filled the dining room.

Greta’s nephew, Jake Woodruff, is a musician. About six months ago, Greta and I saw him perform at the House of Blues in Hollywood. After seeing him there, I sent him a list of five country songs that I love and thought he might want to add to his repertoire. Jake and his mom Gina were at the party.

Jake announced to the crowd that he had prepared some songs for me. He nailed it when he opened with, “If Tomorrow Never Comes,” a Garth Brooks classic. And then, a Kris Kristofferson hit, “Loving Her was Easier Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again.”

Jake knew I had been a good friend of Johnny Cash. One night 40 years ago, at the Sahara Tahoe Resort, Johnny had asked me back stage before the show what my favorite song of his was. I said, “Sunday Morning Coming Down.” Johnny came on stage that night and said to a packed show room crowd, “This song is for my friend Tom Blake,” and sang it.

Jake had mastered that song and performed it wlell. Then, he sang another Garth Brooks classic, “The Dance.” Those songs were from the list I had given him. His learning those songs, perfecting them and then singing them was an incredible gift to me.

There were people in the room between the ages of 19 to 75. When Jake sang Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline, everybody—all ages--knew the words and joined in with the “So good, so good,” and the other words the audiences often sing along with Neil.

When the party was winding down, Jake and three of my young, talented, women employees were singing together and I could visualize a new singing group being born. They were really good.

I had no clue about the birthday party. Not one employee slipped by saying something that would have alerted me. It was a total surprise planned by Greta with the help of Rosalinda and the rest of the deli staff.

To receive that much love from 35 people who are very special to me was an incredible way to spend number 75. I am truly blessed. That is what love is. 

The Last Cowboy Song: the end of the meet and greets

On Life and Love After 50 Newsletter

by Thomas P. Blake      October 10, 2014

The end of the Meet and Greets

For two and a half years, Tutor and Spunky’s, my Dana Point, California, deli has sponsored a Meet and Greet on the last Thursday night of each month for singles age 50-plus and beyond, in some cases far beyond. People in their 90s have attended and one nice gentleman, Dave, at age 92, met his significant other there.

Attendance has varied to a high of 120 to a low of about 20, which was the dismal number two weeks ago at the September Meet and Greet. I think only four men attended. The average attendance was usually 45-50.

As far as I can determine, about 15 couples have formed as a result of meeting there. It’s hard to get an exact count because what happens is once a couple gets together, they don’t return. One guy I saw in the Post Office who had attended a few times said he didn’t attend anymore because his new main squeeze didn’t want him to be socializing with other women.  

At every Meet and Greet, the women always outnumbered the men by at least two-to-one, but at times by four or five-to-one. There was one exception. Four months ago, the men outnumbered the women by more than two-to-one. I knew something strange was brewing that night when the first nine people to arrive were men.

I mentioned that phenomenon in my local newspaper article. At the next gathering, new women poured through the door while the men recoiled so we ended up having a lopsided women-to-men ratio. That may have been the beginning of the end.

It is a fact of life that women always outnumber men at singles functions for people ages 50, 60, 70 and 80. Most women accept that fact but there are others who don’t understand. At each event, we usually have a break in the action when new people can come to the microphone and introduce themselves. I recall when a woman took the microphone and instead of saying something like, “Hi, I’m Susie, I live in Dana Point and have been a widow for five years,” she said, “Where are all of the decent men?”

I quickly took the microphone from her and suggested she needed to have a more positive attitude. She stomped out and later emailed me that she had never been so humiliated in her life. She never came back.

This week, I received an email from Jean, who attended the September Meet and Greet. Jean wrote, “I wanted to comment on something said to a group of women at a table with one of the men. Dick said that there were at least 10 men he knew of who were staying home because the women clustered together, dressed for one another and came to hear each other, while the men came to meet ladies. I told Dick that I attend to hear male conversation but have never met anyone I have been smitten with. I simply think the gals are dressed up anyway and make the best of an evening visiting with one another sitting in groups. I personally attend alone but have been joined by a female in the past.”

I emailed back to her that the guy Dick she commented about usually sat with three or four of his buddies and barely ever acknowledged a woman. So there you have it.

One new woman who attended September’s event came in and wanted me to turn the TV on to the MLB (Major League Baseball) Network so she could watch Derek Jeter’s last game in Yankee Stadium. I apologized for not subscribing to the MLB. She disappeared in an instant, perhaps making her way across the parking lot to the sports bar where the 20 to 30 year old crowd hangs out.

Our October Meet and Greet will be the last one, at least until next spring. In ending two and a half years of Meet and Greets, I can’t get a song out of my mind that The Highwaymen sang (Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Kris Kristoffersen, and Waylon Jennings), titled, “This is the Last Cowboy Song.”

This is the last cowboy song:
The end of a hundred year waltz.
The voices sound sad as they're singin' along.
Another piece of America's lost.