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I have loved the theater ever since I was a teenager.  In high school I often surprised my date by taking her to a play or a musical, rather than to a movie – even though a dark movie theater was a much better venue for making out.  (Babysitting with my girlfriend was another great venue – once the kids were asleep of course – but I’ll save that for another blog).

Years ago, my father introduced me to the joy of the Edinburgh International Festival and the accompanying Festival Fringe.  Annually, in the month of August, Edinburgh is transformed into the theater and live performance capital of the world.  The Fringe offers more than 300 events on stages varying from an outdoor tent holding thousands of spectators, to a small room that barely contains an audience of 15.  The performances include theater, comedy, dance, musicals, spoken word, circus, cabaret and more, and feature both big name celebrities and unknown artists.

Before the COVID pandemic, you’d often find me in Edinburgh during the second week in August.  Based on the local reviews, I’d select five or six performances to attend each day.  I was seldom disappointed.

On our first visit to the festival, we hired a driver, Jimmy, to chauffeur us around.  We had arranged for him to meet our flight at the airport, but there was an airline strike, and we had to take an express train that arrived in the evening.  And yet, there was Jimmy, cheerfully meeting us as we stepped off our train.  He was a great driver, filled with stories and helpful tips, and after a week in his company we wanted to take him home with us.

Attending the Edinburg Festival is like taking a river cruise.  You unpack once, sleep in the same room, and (with a little walking) the scenery comes to you.

Fortunately, I live in Los Angeles where theater is both outstanding and abundant.  But in L.A. I could never attend more than two, maybe three, performances in a single day.

So, if you are bored one August and seeking entertainment, I highly recommend a visit to Edinburgh.  I also recommend that you stay at the Sheraton Grand hotel and Spa.

But enough travel agenting.  You can select your own airline.

Happy viewing.

Alan

A few months ago, I received an email from a doctor who has invested in real estate with me for many years.

“I’m retiring from my medical practice and moving to France, so I’d like to liquidate my investments,” he said.

I was shocked.  Not because he wanted to sell his investments, but because he planned to retire.  At 65.  I’m still working part-time at 83, and I plan to continue working indefinitely. Why? Because I’m one of the lucky ones who loves what I do.

When I was a student the prospect of working full time seemed like going to prison.  Since I wanted the ability to choose how I spent my time, I started my own business and have now worked for myself for more than fifty years.  Yes, I’ve often had to come in on a Saturday and I’ve worked late into the evening on many occasions, but I also can mosey into the office at noon (if I have no appointments). Being in control of my time is a big deal to me.

Also, I’ve always enjoyed working on projects with other people.  In running my own business, I have the additional advantage of choosing who I get to work with. My current staff is outstanding, and I look forward to spending time with them.

Since 1968 I have accumulated and now manage a sizeable portfolio of commercial real estate investments – major shopping centers – throughout the United States.  The work keeps me busy along with a staff of 30 full-time employees. Because I enjoy what I do, I don’t think I’ll ever feel the need to “retire.”

I’ve heard it said, for an occupation choose something you enjoy, and you will never work a day in your life.

I feel that way on most days.  Even so, like almost everyone else, I also enjoy my days off and even love to take vacations.  So happy June 19^th.  I’m driving to San Diego for the weekend but will be back in the saddle next Tuesday.

Perhaps I’ll have an adventure there that I can share with you next week.

Alan

When I was 18, I combined a $1,000 inheritance from my grandmother with the $800 I had saved from tutoring and bought my first new car – a metallic blue VW bug.  I found the best price at a dealership in Costa Mesa, about 80 miles from my home.

While Volkswagen bugs with manual transmissions were never known for their get-up-and-go, this one seemed unusually sluggish on the drive home.  I later discovered I had neglected to release the emergency brake.  While I never made that mistake again, I did run out of gas a few times.  There was no fuel gauge in those early VWs.

I was extremely proud of my new car.  For the first month, I parked it on the street in front of my parents’ house.  One morning, I came out to find that someone had sideswiped my beloved VW during the night.  There were two unsightly scrapes on the left rear fender.  I was extremely upset, especially because I didn’t have enough money to pay for repairs.

I was angry for an entire month.  Then I decided to change my attitude.

I realized that it did me no good to remain upset.  After all, a car is a thing.  If I had the money, I could have it repaired or replaced.

On the other hand, the people I loved could never be repaired or replaced.  I had only one mother, one father, and one little brother.  But I would probably own many new cars in my life, each one hopefully better than the last.

In that moment, I decided to reserve my love only for people, and not for things.  And I’ve kept that promise.  I’ve saved myself a lot of grief by refusing to feel upset when a “thing” is damaged or destroyed.

By contrast, when my brother died unexpectedly about 20 years ago, I was devastated.  On a deep level, I still am.

Ironically, my red Tesla now has two scrapes on its rear fender.  Both were my fault – the exit to our office parking structure isn’t as wide as it should be.

I like my car a lot.  But I do not love it.

I reserve my love for you.

Alan