Happy Heavenly Birthday to my Dad

If my Dad were still walking the earth he would be 87 today. He made it to 83 which I consider quite a feat for him. See, as a child he often started a story or lesson with this sentence, “I have to tell you this before I die.”

To a young child that is a terrible way to start a story. It just made me think, “Are you about to die?” And not hear another word after that.

Ed was a man of big gestures. When I went to summer camp he sent a care package to the whole camp of “sweet honesty” tee shirts and merchandise. “Sweet Honesty” was a teen fragrance that my Dad invented at Avon where he worked. I have no remembrance of the fragrance but the shirts were really cute in pinks, greens and baby blues. I was very popular giving out the loot my Dad sent to every camper and counselor alike.

When my Dad worked at Avon in NYC he would take me into his office a couple of times a year. I loved going on the train with him, even if he did make me stand in the bar car on the morning trip in where he would spread his paperwork out on the bar and work, since the bar was closed in the morning. He also made me stand in the bar car on the ride home as it was open.

He had a corner office on the 27th floor of 9 W. 57th st. over looking the Plaza and Central Park south. It was so glamourous. When Avon moved to the building they let each executive decorate their own offices and my Dad hired their Wilton Decorator, Warren Fett who was mainly an antique dealer.

My Dad knew that the antiques he would buy for his office would be depreciated as office furniture and when he left Avon he bought them for cents on the dollar. My breakfast room English Yew chairs still have the Avon inventory tag on the underside of them and the leaf green leather that Warren of Wilton, as my father called him, had put on the seats.

Even though my Dad started a lot of lessons with the “before I die” line, I did learn so much from him. I know that my data and analytical skills come from those lessons. Also, my interest in other people.

My father spoke to everyone wherever he went and usually started out the conversation with them the same way, “Where are you from and how long have you been doing this?” CEO’s to Taxi drivers all got the same treatment. Consequently I remember people by where they are from.

I was lucky to have so many good years with my Dad, although not all of them were good. I try and not think about when he was difficult, but he could be. One thing that was very hard was he usually was smarter than everyone else and sometimes that would frustrate him. But when he wanted something he could really turn on the charm and usually win people over, as long as he had not already called them a dope to their face.

I hope he is in heaven having a grand old time in the smart section and the dopes are in a different section. I would hate for him to be considered difficult in heaven, but chances are…