"Trust Me"

Here is what I have learned in the past two weeks. Paul was viewed by some (perhaps many) as a master manipulator. The phrase "trust me" seemed to emanate from his mouth often, and was interpreted by many as "bull**it." This does not shock me. He has been described as the consummate salesman by both those who loved and hated him, and to me that says it all. He would do and say anything to get what he wanted and/or needed at that particular moment in time. As I write this, I realize, I have that same ability. I often joke about how I can manipulate people or a situation to get what I want. Must be in the genes.

While Paul was a good salesman, it was not what he wanted out of life. He wanted to do something much bigger, and he did.

In the last few years of his life Paul was able to execute an incredible business deal that led to the purchase of a large piece of land in Vallejo, California. His goal was to build a master planned community, which would include housing, commercial, and recreational buildings, as well as a golf course. The project was named "Sky Valley." I can clearly remember walking the land with my parents. Sitting on the dirt looking on as Paul unrolled blue prints on the hood of his gold Mercedes Benz convertible, pointing out the future to my mom. The groundbreaking ceremony where I got to celebrate with getting my ears pierced for the special event. Listening for the first time (and last time) to my father speak in front of an entire crowd, and being totally impressed with how charismatic he was.

This project was the turning point in our lives. We went from financially struggling to what felt like instant millionaires. We bought the big house, the fancy cars, the first class tickets, the limo rides, the jewelry. It was incredibly fun and outrageous, and short-lived. It was in the midst of this that Paul died.

Last week I met with Paul's first wife and gained a different perspective of him. They were together for 6 years when they were both very young. Today I spoke briefly with his child-hood best friend. Before Ted left my house he told me one story that I would like to share. It is the story that inspired the theme of the entry tonight.

Ted owned a lumber and nursery business in the 1980s. One day my father pulled up in his Mercedes to the nursery to catch up with his old friend. They chatted business, and Ted revealed to Paul that the Nursery was in trouble and he was probably going to have to close the doors. Paul told Ted all about Sky Valley.

Having known Paul as well as he did, Ted was thinking, "Yeah right, another one of Paul's stories." Then Paul invited Ted to hop in the car for a little road trip up to the property. Ted, wanting to call him out, agreed. They arrived at the property, and Ted said he was sure Paul was "just the sales guy." But then, different workers kept approaching them and asking questions, including a question about a rather large purchase. It became clear that Paul was indeed in charge.

At the end of their adventure Paul told Ted that he was going to need a lot of plants for Sky Valley. He said he would bring his landscape architect over and they would see if they could help him get rid of some of the inventory. Sure enough Paul and the architect came by - the architect pointed at a couple of plants and said "I don't want that or that," but "we will take pretty much everything else." Paul cut Ted a check (which was good to Ted's dismay) and then Paul asked Ted to take care of the plants for a few months, the property was not ready for them yet. So Ted cared for the plants and shortly thereafter Paul died.

Months later someone from Sky Valley came, took about 1/4 of the plants they purchased and walked away.

I have always heard the same comments about my dad, many of which have been negative. But the one word that I ALWAYS think of is generous. To my knowledge he was always willing to give, even when he did not have anything left, even if he had to deceive to give it.

"The House" in Blackhawk
1988

Once, Twice, Three Times a Charm...

 Scared of commitment? Not so much, he probably was a bit co-dependent. It seems like he was either married or in a serious relationship for most of his adult life.

Paul was an expert at getting married, not necessarily staying married though. He also somehow managed to produce one child for each wife, which of course leads to a very typical "modern family."

Time for another one of my favorite Paul stories. Again, there might be some inaccuracies with my retelling of this story (like all the others) so please feel free to correct me.

Soon after my mom (wife #3) and Paul got married, they attended the wedding of two of their very close friends, Ed and Jonelle. The wedding was in Carmel, and the families were there along with many friends. Just moments before the ceremony was set to start, Ed and Jonelle were in a panic...the officiant had not arrived! I am not sure who's idea it was, but who better to lead a wedding ceremony then a man who had been married three times? Enter Paul. He quickly agreed to be the unofficial officiant and stepped up to the podium, performing what my mom has said was one of the most beautiful wedding ceremonies. In fact, Jonelle's mom, personally thanked Paul for such a moving ceremony. It was a such a realistic wedding, that Ed and Jonelle never made it official! Their one and only, illegal marriage ceremony, was performed by Paul. I am pretty sure he was never too concerned with the legality of his decisions.

So tomorrow is the next big adventure in my "mission." I am meeting with Paul's first wife and my sister for lunch. You may be thinking "that's weird" but I have actually known her since I was about 12 years old, and spent time at her house. After all, for about 7 years of my life I literally lived down the street from her, and her youngest son and I went to school together from 7th grade though college. So weird maybe, but not in my family. 

Stayed tuned for more adventures as one girl tries to uncover the mysteries of her deceased father.

Who's You Favorite Team?

Living in the Bay Area, the past few weeks have been filled with Giants fever and I have been very annoyed! I swear it feels like all day every day its Giants, Giants, Giants! If one more student talks about the team, or one more person posts something about the Giants winning on Facebook, I swear I will scream. In fact I am pretty sure I said some pretty snarky things to a few students today (oops).

However, on my way home from school I was talking to my mom and she expressed how excited she was the Giants won....seriously?? Since when did my mom follow sports? I am pretty sure once Paul died sports were banned from our TVs! Just as I was surprised about her enthusiasm, she was equally surprised by my lack of it.

Apparently Norma (Paul's mother) was a die hard baseball fan and was in love with the Giants. She watched every game, read every article, followed every players stats. My mom said that even when she was on her death bed, she would have the newspaper open to the sports page to check how her team was doing. Apparently Paul was a Giants fan as well! Who knew?

It is those little things, that I have never thought to ask about, the little details that so many people take for granted, that I am surprised by the most.