Alan C. Fox

I’m writing this blog to memorialize one of the best weeks of my life.

It shouldn’t have been a good week. After a personal crisis that I won’t elaborate on, I arrived at my son Craig’s home at 8:30 am Saturday morning.

Craig and his wife welcomed me and carried all that I had brought with me up to their guest room where I settled in.  The next day my daughter Jill drove down from her home near San Jose to spend the week with me.

I am a man who likes to take care of others.  I seldom ask for help. When I do I am sometimes turned down.  Possibly because I don’t ask for help well, or maybe because some people are more used to receiving than to giving.

Craig and his wife have two young boys and they are always busy with work. Even so, Craig spent all day Saturday with me, shopping for clothes and taking care of other emergency items.  I was touched.  Throughout the week Craig and his wife spent hours talking with me. As we opened ourselves to each other, I grew to know them better than I ever have. It was a love fest.

Jill referred me to an expert who provided me with advice that was pivotal in helping me resolve my problem.  Jill also drove me to and from work all week, handling her own life from a laptop in my office.  On Friday her son flew to Los Angeles and the three of us spent the best day together I can ever remember.

During the week my office staff was extremely supportive. They went above and beyond.

Many close friends and family members called or texted me with support, and to tell me they love me.

On Saturday, Craig, his family and I, participated in the peaceful March For Our Lives demonstration in downtown Santa Monica.  I carried a sign I created myself, complete with blinking lights, that said, “POETS NOT BULLETS”.  One man offered to carry my sign for a while, many people took photos of it, and there were “thumbs up” all around.

I always want to be better tomorrow than I am today.  So what are the lessons I’ve learned?

First, when you need help ask for it.  You may be pleasantly surprised.

Second, when life serves you lemons, make lemonade.  It may sound trite, but I’ve found that when one door closes many doors open.  You only have to maintain a positive attitude and use a tiny bit of your energy to help those doors along.

Third, when I share more of myself, friends and family share more of themselves.  Life is reciprocal.  Though I’m not always responsible for what comes my way.  I’m always responsible for what I do with it.

As a result of this experience, I intend to be even more open with my family and close friends than I have been. An old Alka Seltzer commercial says, “Try it.  You’ll like it,” I agree.

Craig is very good at puns.  Last Sunday morning he said, “Today may be a sad day, but yesterday was a sadder day.”  Haha.

Here’s to the future. Here’s to asking for what you need from family and friends — and here’s to receiving it.

With love and thanks to all,

Alan

Should you “try, try, again”?

Conventional wisdom says “yes.”  I say, “Trying again is just one option.  There are others.”

First I should mention that I regard any conclusion I reach in my life as a working hypothesis. For example, I believe that Los Angeles, where I was born, is the best city in the world for me to stay. That’s why I’m still here.  But I’m open to the idea that my rock-solid conclusion, which I have acted on for seventy-eight years, is subject to review and change.

Circumstances change.  Our abilities change.  Our understanding of our lives can change as well.  Maybe a conclusion reached many years ago (“I’ll never talk to that neighbor again”) was inappropriate in the first place.  To find and live the best possible life we must always be open to changing our conclusions.  I’m sure of that.  (Ha ha.)

During the past fifty years I have syndicated and managed commercial real estate.  I have many loyal investors, and we have purchased and sold hundreds of properties.  When I present an investment to a potential investor I seldom “try, try again.”

Years ago I offered an investment to a gentleman referred to me by my friend Gary.  When the gentleman said he had decided to invest, I prepared and mailed out a contract.  One week later I contacted him to confirm that he had received it.  He said that he had, and would sign and return it immediately, together with his check.

After three weeks I still hadn’t received anything from him,   I finally asked that he either return or destroy the documents in his possession.

Several months later Gary asked me to offer a second investment to the same gentleman.

I said, “Gary, it’s my policy not to do that.  If someone agrees to invest and asks for a contract, then doesn’t perform, it is unlikely that they will perform the second time.”  (See my book People Tools, Chapter 7, “Patterns Persist”.)

“Alan, this man has referred many investors to me.  I’m sure he will invest with you this time.  As a favor to me, please send him a contract.”

I did.  But his pattern persisted.  No investment.

Sometimes it is appropriate to try once, and then stop trying. Or try someone else or something different.

I once met a potential investor in her apartment in Marina del Rey.  She was a practicing attorney. As we talked she began to tell me about all of the litigation she was involved in.  She was suing various people, and many people were suing her.

She pestered me for more than two years, but I never sent her any investment information.  I didn’t want to be next victim on her litigation list.

Sometimes it’s better not to try at all.

And sometimes it’s best to end writing a blog while your reader is still interested.  I remember the show biz adage, “Leave ‘em wanting more.”

Thanks.

Alan

Shortly after I opened my law office more than fifty years ago I bought a carved oak bookcase that I treasured.  It remained in my offices until last week.

Times change. When we moved to a new building fifteen years ago my lovely bookcase didn’t fit into my personal office at work, and its style didn’t fit in with the décor of our home.  So I moved it to Ed’s office where I enjoyed seeing it once or twice a week.

Now Ed has become a consultant, which means he’s semi-retired while I am not.  Is there something wrong with this picture?  I don’t think so, because I enjoy working and keeping my mind sharp (assuming it was sharp in the first place).  We have hired four new employees to start work next month, so we have to convert Ed’s former office into a space that will serve the needs of two people. This means we no longer have room for my oak bookcase.

My typical solution is: “put it into storage.”  But by this stage of my life I have proven over and over again that storage for me is like the Roach Motel.  What goes in never comes out.  Over the years I have paid thousands of dollars in storage fees, after which I have paid thousands of dollars to get rid of sofas, tables, chairs, lamps, and cheap or broken works of art.

My other solution is to sell.  But I remembered when I purchased the bookcase my friend Jim had also liked it.  If I remember correctly, I saw it first and kept it for myself.

So when the movers asked, “Where do you want the bookcase to go?” I thought of Jim.  Now, fifty years later, he is still a valued consultant to my business and places all of our new loans.  Jim has a lovely home filled with books and art.  I thought my bookcase more belonged with him than in a rented storage unit or sold off to someone I didn’t know.

“Deliver it to Jim,” I said, with only a slight hesitation in my voice.

I learned long ago to reserve my love for people, not things. I briefly considered offering the cabinet to Jim only if he paid for the delivery charge.  After all, he lives some distance from my office.  But my father told me years ago that if you treat someone to dinner you should cover the tip as well.  In other words, take care of everything.

Last week I received the following text from Jim:  “They delivered the bookcase today.  It is beautiful and I have admired it for forty years.  Thank you so much.  It is without doubt the best gift I ever got for somebody else’s birthday!”

This blog is about a gift.  Not the gift of the bookcase.  This blog is about the gift Jim and I have given to each other, and is our friendship of more than forty years.

Each day is the date of our rebirth.  It is the best day to enjoy the fresh breeze in your face, and the most precious gift of all — friendship.

Love,

Alan