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Into the Looking-Glass

My friend Doug and I spent this past weekend as guests at an exclusive men's club.

It was a little strange to be in the company of what amounted to San Francisco�s moneyed elite, but I just tried to keep Tom Landry�s quote about excessive touchdown celebrations in mind: �When you get into the end zone, try to act like you�ve been there before.�

There were 600 Children (as members are known), Babies (new members), and guests gathered at The Farm this weekend to participate in the festivities. Among the programs were poetry readings, political discussions, orchestra concerts, and original plays � virtually all of which were set up and/or performed by members of The Family.

Also featuring prominently on the agenda were eating and drinking. Breakfasts were a buffet of all the things cardiologists tell you to avoid. One private lunch we attended served wonderful T-bone steaks. The evening cocktail hour was accompanied by hors d�oeuvres that would have been nice dinner entrees, like roasted lamb and paella. Dinners were so good that the aforementioned hors d�oeuvres didn�t overshadow them. And as for drinking, well, as we wandered from camp to camp being introduced by our host I don�t think I was ever not greeted with some variant of �Nice to meet you� followed quickly by �Can I get you something to drink?� (Generally the answer was some variant of �It�s nice to meet you too� followed quickly by �Yes!�)

After the evening program � both of the nights we were there, this consisted of a one-hour original play, complete with choreography, costumes, and makeup and accompanied by full sets, lighting, sound effects, and a pit orchestra � the camp crawling began. Various camps sponsored evening entertainment, starting at around 11 and ending well into the morning. On Saturday night we heard a guitar-playing duo covering popular music from Buck Owens to the Beatles, followed by an incredible jazz combo, followed by another jazz combo. Again, all of these groups were made up of Family members. And all of these camps had open bars, happily serving whatever you were thirsty for. It was pretty astounding.

I think my host summed it up the best � �It�s summer camp for rich men.�

With any luck I�ll be invited back again sometime. In the words of Uncle Max from The Sound of Music, �I like rich people. I like the way they live. I like the way I live when I�m with them.�

Comments

Men only?

I like how in this entire report on the weekend at the Family Farm, Brad never mentioned or even alluded to me -- me, the friend who invited him, who convinced him he'd have fun, who taught him to drink gin and tonics. That's gratitude for you.

Consider yourself mentioned!

Re Kris's question ("men only?") -- Yes, it makes the peeing on the trees so much easier.

Note to Brad: Cameron will need to be very clear on the concept of "watering the trees" before he gets to go to the Family Farm.

So the key to a primo slot in the ranks of BEW acquaintances is the ability to provide access to the "moneyed elite"? That counts me out...

I wouldn't say that.

I do think it's fair to say that 15 years ago, when Doug and I were roommates, neither of us imagined we would ever be invited to such a place. Talk about your parallel dimensions.

The only key to a slot at the top the list of Brad's really, really good friends, as far as I can tell, is to appreciate cigars and martinis. Quoting from movies a lot also helps, in my observation.

To Brad's comment that 15 years ago neither of us would have imagined that we would ever be invited to such a place: Back then I didn't know such a place existed. But if I had, I can assure you I would have imagined being invited.

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