THE SEARCH FOR MR. ADEQUATE
Part XXXV
By Susan Silver

I Over Labor Day, I went to my second Renaissance Weekend. No, we do not walk around in medieval costumes, singing and chanting. It is a gathering of extremely bright, accomplished people in all fields who are invited to meet and engage each other in ideas.

I confess I do have some tiny hope that a real engagement will occur from these weekends, but not so far. At least not for me.

It’s always held during a holiday and this time the local was Monterey.
In all the years I’d lived in Los Angeles, I never took the famous drive up the Coast and was looking forward to it and seeing Carmel as well. I planned to spend a few days in LA and then Santa Barbara after the conference.
The details of the weekends are off the record, and I intend to abide by that rule. But I will fill you in on a few personal reflections and perhaps you will get a notion of why this is such a fabulous experience.

None of the great friends I had made during my last Renaissance were there. So I had to come in and make new friends. And even as gregarious as I can be, there is always that moment of apprehension when you first walk into the opening night cocktails party where you know almost no one ... other than our hosts and the people who work so hard to make these weekends happen. But the format makes meeting people easy. (So I did not have to wear the stripper costume which I keep in reserve as a good conversation opener.)

This year I had not put my old TV writing credits into the resume booklet they hand out ... just said “writer” and “consultant” and that looked rather lame next to “Nobel Prize Winner,” “world renown brain surgeon,” “Mayor” and “Professor Emeritus.” And those weren’t even the most impressive titles!
Since I was a TV comedy writer and now am involved at the UN with the Simon Wiesenthal Center I was toying with writing down “Sit-Com Writer/Nazi Hunter” ... but thought better of it.

Various people are asked to “host” tables and make sure everyone is enjoying themselves at the lunches and dinners. The first year, my bio included “Mary Tyler Moore” and “Bob Newhart” and everyone rushed to my table perhaps thinking they would be there. This year I was afraid I’d be eating alone.

So I went up to anyone who looked friendly, or lonely ... and begged them to sit with me and thus my table was overcrowded and I looked popular which held me in good stead for the rest of the weekend. No fool I.

The next few days there are large plenary panels at meals, where people are invited to wax eloquent about very human topics ... for a total of one or two minutes. These are serious people who do serious things and when I was asked to be on a panel I knew they would all be talking about ending poverty and world hunger. So I talked about pummeling people who spoke too loudly on their cell phones. You got it. I’m the official “comic relief.” I’ll have you know that everyone agreed with me. So even noble people and Nobel people have the urge to maim. Actually this year there were some hysterically funny mathematicians. I kid you not.

The days are broken up into panels of smaller size on specific, often weighty topics of interest. I was asked to host a non-weighty one on Movies and I had a great panel of creative people who made it easy. In fact, it was one of the most attended panels because you don’t have to understand quarks to get it. We had a lot of laughs and everyone was very complimentary and suggested that I should have a TV Talk Show of my own. I AM AVAILABLE. In fact, I am sooo available I might come to each and everyone’s home and do a personal show with you if you like.

There were Young Leaders ... under forty years old and I realized it’s a good thing to hang out with younger people. Especially adorable guys who get crushes on you. (That was the good thing.) You two know who you are ... .and thanks for the hugs. They will tie me over.

The final day, I was on a panel asking appropriately for “final words.” I put in a plug for the Column and projected ahead, telling them if anyone knew a Mr. Adequate, please fix me up and therefore my final words would be/could be the following: “Honey, in all my 88 years, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” And then I die.

So far two people have told me that they had someone in mind for me. The first guy emailed that unfortunately his friend was seeing someone. And I haven’t heard from the second person yet. Hey, it’s not like I’m not trying, folks.

Whenever I tell single people the name of the column, they immediately tell me a story from their dating life. (Married couples just hold on to each other for dear life.) In the midst of a very great massage and body scrub, the masseuse at the hotel told me this one. And, I would have to say it’s right up there in the Pantheon of all time lousy relationship tales.

She is a blonde, very healthy looking young lady and was living with a guy for about three months. Things were going reasonably well. One day when she was in the bathroom, on the ‘loo’ shall we say ... he walked in and said, “Stop!”

She stopped in mid ... well stream I guess. He then said: “Ever since you’ve moved in I see we are using a lot more toilet paper. How many squares do you use?

She said: “I beg your pardon?”

He then illustrated, counting them off, “You only need five squares, folded. That should be sufficient for either number one or number two."

He handed her the five squares. She used them. I assumed she then handed him his head ... but no folks ... she actually stayed another year.

As Jay Leno said to Hugh Grant when he was caught with the ugly hooker ... ”What were you thinking?”

Girls ... and guys too ... it’s a rule. You can tell almost everything there is to know about a person after twenty minutes if you pay attention. And if they limit the toilet paper ... leave immediately!

Another great thing was the reunion I had with a very old friend and former writing partner who lives there. We had not seen each other in a very long time and had lost touch ... actually for what reason I can’t remember. But I can’t remember a lot of things. There is nothing like an old friend. The memories, (between us we have the remains of one good mind), the laughs, the shorthand ... simply one word could send us into hysterics almost requiring Depends. We spared her husband the ordeal and spent “girl time.”

She was gracious enough to take me on the Seventeen Mile Drive ... even after I asked how long it was ... the answer being probably seventeen miles or longer depending on how slow you want to drive. Your arm hurts when you hold it like that? Don’t hold it like that. Yes ... we became Borscht Belt comediennes in our time together. And vowed not to lose touch again.

I made some incredible new friends again this weekend and we already have been emailing and talking. My dream is that one of the more entrepreneurial types create a Renaissance Retirement Village where we will all wind up and have these stimulating fun times until ... that last sex and I go ... happy.
Next I went on to LA and saw Deb ... among others. Yes, she is still doing really silly things ... thank goodness for us all. Next time ...

P.S. I once wrote I didn’t like Rosie O’Donnell because she’d been snippy to me, but I read that she just donated $3 million to the Katrina kids fund and we love her now. And let’s not forget to do what we can too.

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