Klooka

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were Renata's busiest days at UCLA. She taught one undergraduate class at nine and another at eleven. At three o'clock on Mondays and Wednesdays, she taught a graduate seminar. She also served as an adviser to six master's candidates and two doctoral candidates, meeting with each of them at least once every two weeks on Tuesday mornings. Renata kept them busy.

Her students considered Renata a tough teacher. She made them work hard, very hard. "I want you to get your money's worth," she told her classes and students at the beginning of each quarter.

She worked on her second book of poetry whenever she could. When Gerry called her on Tuesday night to invite her out on Saturday afternoon and evening, she didn't think twice about seeing him again. Renata really liked him. She found Gerry inspiring.

On Friday afternoon, Renata left campus around two o'clock after a leisurely lunch with a couple of her colleagues in the faculty club. As she was driving home along Wilshire Boulevard, she decided to shop on Rodeo Drive, so she turned east on Santa Monica Boulevard. A few minutes later, she parked in the public lot along Santa Monica Boulevard at Rodeo Drive. It was cheaper than parking in any of the lots along Rodeo or Beverly Drive.

She walked down Rodeo and turned right on Little Santa Monica Boulevard, noticing the window displays at Boul Mich, a pricey women's store. Once she asked a Boul Mich salesgirl if she had ever been on the real Boul Mich. "No," the salesgirl said, "I didn't know there was one." Another time a different salesgirl answered the same question by saying, "No, I've never been to Paris." Renata wondered why the owners of Boul Mich didn't teach their employees that "Boul Mich" was a nickname for Michigan Boulevard in Chicago. "Maybe they don't even know," she said to herself. "Maybe they came across the name in a magazine and never even considered it was a real place...."

Renata rented a mailbox in the entrance to the Artists Building, a few feet west of the corner. The entrance door was always locked. Lorii's father, Bob Kamin, rented an office on the second floor. He arranged for Renata to have her own mailbox and gave her a key to the entrance door. "It's more private and a lot safer than having mail sent to your home address, especially if you have a nosy landlady!" he told her. She only had utility bills sent to her home address; she arranged for her royalty checks, manuscript communications, and other personal mail to be sent to the Artists Building. She stopped by two or three times a week to check her mail.

She always looked at the Directory in the lobby. Some of Hollywood's top screenwriters, including her uncle, had offices there. So did some well-known actors and actresses. The offices ran along the second floor down the length of the building for half a block to the alley.

Bob Kamin usually wrote at home or at the studios, but sometimes he wrote in his office. The main reason he kept the office was for meetings with agents, producers, directors, actors and actresses, and studio reps. His secretary, Robin Galajian, was there everyday, always able to reach him whenever necessary. She had worked for Bob for 22 years.

After Renata picked up her mail, she stopped by to see her uncle.

"Hi, Robin," she said as she entered the outer office. "Is my uncle here?"

"Yes, he is," Ranata. "Just go on in."

"Hi, Uncle Bob," she said. He smiled, stood up, and gave her a hug. "How's my favorite niece?" he asked.

They talked for awhile. Bob was expecting a producer to stop by. "If you ever think about screenwriting, Renata, I'll be glad to help you get started," he told her, not realizing he said the same thing to her every time they met. Renata appreciated the kindness of his offer and never mentioned he made it whenever he saw her.

"Maybe someday, maybe someday soon," she said. "But first I want to finish my second book of poetry. By the way, did I tell you that UCLA made me a full professor on Monday?"

"No, that's great news!" Bob said. "I'm very proud of you, Renata. That is terrific!"

They talked for a few minutes more. Then the producer arrived.

"Bye, Uncle Bob," she smiled. "I'll see you soon."

Renata walked along Rodeo Drive, stopping here and there. She bought three pairs of slacks and some new tops that she could wear to the University and on dates. Both Renata and Lorii had a way of making everything they wore look great.

About five o’clock, she stopped by her uncle's office again. He was still there, writing. "How about dinner at Nate-N-Al’s," she asked, "On me!"

"Hey, that'll be great. Diane just called to say she's working late tonight, so I'm free. And hungry!" Diane worked on the news assignment desk at KCBS-TV.

Nate-N-Al’s is a Beverly Hills landmark, an old-fashioned Jewish delicatessen that opened in 1945. It is only a couple of blocks from Bob's office, over on Beverly Drive.

"This neighborhood always reminds me of Chicago's Near North Side," Renata said. "You'll find shops like these along Michigan Boulevard and on some of the side streets that cross it."

"You really miss Chicago, don't you, Renata?" he asked.

"Yes, and at times, very much," she said. "Everyone who lives there takes it for granted. So many would trade places with us in the blink of an eye. But there is a real down-to-earth gutsiness to Chicago I love. And I think it is the most beautiful city in America."

"I wish I knew it better," he said. "I've been there a number of times, but always for short business trips. Maybe someday...."

When they arrived at Nate-N-Al’s, they were seated at a booth right away. There was often a wait, but this was Friday night, and many customers were at their synagogues. Renata and Bob ordered Rueben sandwiches, one of Nate-N-Al’s specialties.

Renata told Bob about Gerry and how much she liked him. Bob, of course, knew Gerry. "He's one of Lorii's friends. She took me to hear him play with the Nighthawks a few times. I think he's a great guy, don't you?"

"Oh, yes! But I didn't know he even knew Lorii when I met him on Sunday," Renata said. "Small world!"

"As far as I know, Renata, Lorii and Gerry are good friends, nothing more," Bob said. "I told her he would be a great catch for her, although he is somewhat older than either of you. But then I'm about the same number of years older than Diane, so I can't complain, can I?"

"I guess the age difference bothers me a little, but Gerry is a gentle, nice man and a fine musician. I admire him for that," Renata said. "And he seems young to me, almost childlike, in many ways.

"We had dinner at Matteo's Tuesday night. Guess what? No sooner were we seated when Frank Sinatra stopped by to say 'Hello' to Gerry. Turns out they've worked together many times over the years. I was thrilled to meet Frank Sinatra!"

They talked about Renata's parents and their music store. "Do they still carry LPs?" Bob asked.

"Oh, yes," Renata said. "My folks bought the store next to ours and remodeled it to handle CD display cases. Dad told me last week that he was now adding special equipment in the CD area so customers could put on headphones and listen to new CDs via a special hookup."

“Do they still have the old-fashioned listening booths?” Bob asked her.

“Yes! And rather than lamenting the demise of LPs, for some time now they have been buying used LPs and closeouts from all over the country to cater to collectors. They have really expanded their mail order business!”

“That’s good to hear, Renata,” Bob said. “I know some of the record stores around here have been closing, unable to compete with the megastores such as Tower and Virgin Records. But your folks seem to be adapting very, very well.”

“Well, I’m glad they are," Renata said. "I suspect they'll want to sell the store in a few years, and by keeping it profitable, they’ll be able to get a good price for it,” she said.

"Do you ever think about running it yourself someday?" Bob asked her.

"You know, I do," Renata said. "Suppose I took a teaching position at Indiana University. I could own the store and hire others to manage the day-to-day operation. Or, I could stop teaching and devote myself to the store, but I don't think I'll do that. When I go home for Thanksgiving, I'll talk it over with them."

After dinner, they walked back to Bob's office, where Renata had left her shopping bags. Bob walked her down to her car. "I'm glad you're here in L.A., Renata," Bob said. "You remind me so much of my first wife and your mother. And I know Lorii is happy you're living in L.A., too."

Renata smiled, then drove down the ramp, turned right on Rodeo, and then, a few blocks later, turned east on Wilshire and headed home.

Six Flats Unfurnished
by Benny Goodman and His Orchestra

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