Be Happy And Marry With A Good Woman

Marcello's a cheerful guy who loves to people watch. When I walked over to him, he said to me, "I know you," but I'm not sure he's right - I'd never forget such a great face. He moved from Italy to LA for acting but when I asked how he made a living he told me, "I do everything." I needled him, "Construction? Car Mechanics? Juggling?" He laughed and answered, "Anything to get some money." He loves America - so much so that when talking about Italian pizza he said, "Over here it's much better." Maybe in NY - but LA? I've eaten in a lot of pizza places in this city and I haven't seen it yet. A widower, I know how much he meant it when I asked him the key to happiness and he responded, "The key? Be happy and marry with a good woman."

Go To Temple Every Morning And Night

Sonny often passes in front of my apartment building with his caretaker, Edith. When she's not with him on the weekends he takes walks alone. Disabled and prone to seizures, he leans on a four-pronged cane and has little use of his right hand - the wrist permanently bent inwards since birth. Seeing that always made me reluctant to bother him. He often walks by without even looking up at me. But, when I said Hi to him yesterday, he stopped walking and returned the greeting. I told him about the blog and said "I'm collecting advice from older people I meet." I asked if he was comfortable being filmed and he told me it was fine.

Although Sonny has many medical problems, he managed to deliver everything on foot while working as a newspaper delivery person for at least 20 years (he couldn't remember exactly for how long he worked). He used to hang a delivery bag off of his disabled right arm while tossing the newspapers with the good left arm; then his father eased his burden and bought him a golf bag for his deliveries. One day, someone stole it. "Why? I don't know why," he repeated to me. "Then my brother bought me another one." When I asked him if he enjoyed work, he said, "Yeah. It gave me something to do."

Enjoy Every Moment Right Now

Sophia is my friend, Sophie's grandmother (Sephardic Jews name their children after the living) who's visiting from Caracas, Venezuela. How cool is this abuela? We were at a birthday party with her Israeli-American family and I asked them to lower the music for a few minutes so we could speak (and Sophie could translate for me). The Israelis lasted two minutes before the music went back up again. What is it with Israelis needing everything - even family barbecues - to resemble a nightclub? Well, Sophia had no complaints. She enjoyed her family, the sun, and the day - and she never said a word. I thought old people are supposed to complain a lot. Why was I the only one screaming, "Does the music have to be so loud?! And, what's with all the smoke from the barbecue? And, why's the food so spicy - don't Sephardim get acid reflux, too?"

Please forgive the bad editing. I'm learning as I go and I'm having a lot of technical difficulties. My computer's getting up in years. If it could give me advice, it would probably recommend putting it in "a home" and giving it a break already. I think it's time for a younger model.

Sophia, age 85.

Keep Moving

Aurelia grew up in Pennsylvania, the wife of a telephone repairman. I spotted her walking with her big glasses, big earrings, and big hair. But, the first thing I spotted was that hair. I wish I backed up a little bit more so everyone can see what I did.

Aurelia moved to LA because her husband was sick of climbing telephone poles in the harsh weather on the East Coast. She took a job working for the phone company and then later for the department store, Robinsons-May in Beverly Hills, until they went out of business.

Retired, Aurelia's not sure what to do with herself. She wants to work but said, "No one wants to hire an 80-year-old to work for them." I asked her if she needed the money, and she said she didn't - "I just like working." So, I gave her some advice and recommended that she find some kind of volunteer work and start keeping herself busy. We talked for awhile about all her options and she thanked me before she left. My friend, Neil who was with me when I ran into her, turned to me and said, "I thought it was called Life Advice From Old People!"

Aurelia, age 80.