Frank's 89th Birthday

Frank called me up on February 16 and left me a message. It was his 89th birthday and he had no one to spend the day with. As soon as I was done auditioning I called Frank back and told him I was taking him to lunch. We went to Fish Grill, a kosher fish place close to where we live.

Frank's a very regimented man. He constantly checks his watch - a Seiko given to him upon his retirement in 1983 - to make sure he is running on schedule. He makes himself a lunch every day at noon. And he will not eat again until it's his dinner time. Since it was 3 p.m., all he would let me buy him at Fish Grill was a tea.

I called up my friend, Yitzy to come meet us. Yitzy grew up in a Hasidic household, and Yiddish was his first language. I think it's nice for Frank to hear Yiddish coming out of the mouth of a guy in his twenties. Abe tells me I should learn Yiddish - "It's an international language" - but I tell him I'm going to work on Hebrew first. I picked up a few Yiddish words from my grandma but only enough to spice up my sentences with a few choice words. I can't hold a conversation. My grandma also wanted me to learn Yiddish but where I grew up in Miami people spoke more Spanish than they did English. Yiddish wasn't going to help me buy leche at the bodega.

Frank was quiet at first - he's a bit of a homebody and he gets shy around people he doesn't know well. But after an hour he grew more comfortable, and soon he was giving me all the reasons why Yitzy was an easier personality than me. Frank thinks I'm too hyper and tells me I need to have the strength to calm myself. A week later he was convincing me to meditate at least once a day - I filmed the advice, although there's a slim chance I'll take it. I'll post it soon in case someone else wants it.

Before we left Fish Grill, I had convinced Frank to allow me to buy him a meal which he could heat up and eat another time. I told him they had salmon and he asked me if it was wild or farm-raised. "I'm sure it's farm raised because they don't want to spend the money," he told me. I asked the cashier and it turned out Frank was right. He didn't want it. He doesn't like farm raised salmon. I asked him how he'd know the difference but he wouldn't budge. So, I got him a whitefish and he took it home.

As I dropped him off at his apartment, he told me he was just giving me a hard time back at the restaurant. I told him I didn't mind. He thanked me for lunch and then asked me if it was okay for him to call me again. He gets uncomfortable calling me too often. I said, "Frank, you're my friend like Yitzy's my friend. And believe me, he doesn't ask permission to call me. Call me whenever you want." He laughed and closed the door to my car and as I backed out of the driveway I realized the importance of family. Frank lost most of his family to Hitler, and then never managed to find a woman to marry. He never had kids. He lived with his father, cared for him while he was sick, and after his father died Frank lived alone up until now. It saddens me to think about it. I've been calling Frank a lot lately. I don't think it's nice to make him feel like a burden. And, I know he appreciates it. And, what better present can you get a lonely man on his 89th birthday?