A Tribute to Max and his life
Opening Remarks by Jodie Evans
Norman Lear on Max
Peter Bart on Max
Pete England on Max and SDS
Closing Remarks by Jodie Evans
Computer History Museum Obituary
Los Angeles Times Obituary
New York Times Obituary
Max's Death Entered into the Congressional Record by Rep. Dennis Kucinich
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Opening Remarks by Jodie Evans
Max Palevsky Memorial Service
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thank you so much for coming to share this celebration of Max with us.
The funeral yesterday was delivered beautifully by Rabbi Herb Freed, the same man who married us. It was just the close family and balm for many of our hearts.
The family is here, his oldest son Nick from Thailand; Madeleine Moskowitz with her amazing husband Jeff and their children, Penelope, Jimmy and Sonny, who brought so much joy to Max; Sasha and his wife Alison who have the newest grandchild, Miles, who was known to giggle when visiting Papa Max; Jonathan and his fiance Lindsay May; Matthew, our son who just turned 25; my son Jasiu Krajewski who Max adopted as his own many years ago; and Max’s sister Helen Futterman, the matriarch of the Palevsky family, most of whom have joined us today.
Most important to Max were his family and friends. They were his joy and the nourishment to his heart and soul. You are going to hear from three of his closest friends whose connections to Max go back 40 years or more.
Max loved to read. He was an intellectual who did not live it out in the University, but rather lived it out in his curious probing mind—it needed to be something special to pull him out of the house during the day, his reading time. One of those special and ritual events was lunch with Stanley Sheinbaum and Norman Lear—a group fondly known as the Malibu Mafia. He was in awe of Norman and how he could take his passions and concerns (which Max shared) and create the project necessary to affect change. When he spoke of Norman, it was with an effusion of love and deepest respect.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thank you so much for coming to share this celebration of Max with us.
The funeral yesterday was delivered beautifully by Rabbi Herb Freed, the same man who married us. It was just the close family and balm for many of our hearts.
The family is here, his oldest son Nick from Thailand; Madeleine Moskowitz with her amazing husband Jeff and their children, Penelope, Jimmy and Sonny, who brought so much joy to Max; Sasha and his wife Alison who have the newest grandchild, Miles, who was known to giggle when visiting Papa Max; Jonathan and his fiance Lindsay May; Matthew, our son who just turned 25; my son Jasiu Krajewski who Max adopted as his own many years ago; and Max’s sister Helen Futterman, the matriarch of the Palevsky family, most of whom have joined us today.
Most important to Max were his family and friends. They were his joy and the nourishment to his heart and soul. You are going to hear from three of his closest friends whose connections to Max go back 40 years or more.
Max loved to read. He was an intellectual who did not live it out in the University, but rather lived it out in his curious probing mind—it needed to be something special to pull him out of the house during the day, his reading time. One of those special and ritual events was lunch with Stanley Sheinbaum and Norman Lear—a group fondly known as the Malibu Mafia. He was in awe of Norman and how he could take his passions and concerns (which Max shared) and create the project necessary to affect change. When he spoke of Norman, it was with an effusion of love and deepest respect.
Norman Lear on Max
Max Palevsky Eulogy
Max and I were drawn to one another -- largely I think because our backgrounds were so similar. He was born to immigrant parents who spoke very little English, just Yiddish. I had parents too. He studied electronics at Yale, earned a BS degree in math and a B.PH in philosophy at the University of Chicago and did post-graduate work in philosophy at UC Berkeley. I went to Emerson College. For a year.
And then came our careers. Max joined the Bendix Corp. to develop the first digital computer for which – and I quote –“Max developed the DA-1 differential analyzer option, which connected to the G-15 and resulted in a machine similar to the MADDIDA, using the G-15 to rewire the inputs to the analyzer instead of the custom drums and wiring of the earlier machine. “ You can see at once the symbiotic relationship between that activity and comedy writing.
There is so much I want to say about Max. But what leaps to mind first is a luncheon we had about a year ago at Spago. I think it says a lot about the life force that existed in this dour – sweet, despite the dourness – fun, despite the sad eyes -- a series of paradoxes, as Jodie spoke of him to me the other day. He called me and said he needed to talk to me.
I was at the table when he came in. He’d been quite sick --not necessarily related to the illness that brings us here today but he had been ailing for some time. Anyway, he came in very slowly, took a long time to sit down and after we exchanged pleasantries I asked him what he wanted to talk about.
He looked up at me painfully, and asked:
“Norman, how often are you getting it on these days?” And by these days, I mean in your 80’s?
After I caught my breath I asked - - per year, per month, per week?
Dead serious, he said -- “Per week.”
“Oh, maybe 9-11 times,” I joked.
He looked up at me and he all but whimpered: Two a week is all I can do now.”
I would say that is a life force.
Apologies to you, Jodie. In telling that story I may have revealed a bit of intimacy that involved you, too. And if it didn’t involve you, I made an even bigger mess of things. Then there’s the possibility that Max, at 80- something -- and despite being so frail -- could still bullshit about his sexual prowess as we all did when we were boys.
I wish I could have helped Max enjoy being Max. He seemed to me to be the last one to enjoy the gift he was to all of us -- and in so many directions. He never understood how awesome I thought it that my friend Max, had founded Scientific Data Systems which he then sold to Xerox for a ton of money before funding Intel, one of the world’s leading semiconductor companies and the pioneer in the development of memory chips and microprocessors. . Max didn’t seem to get -- so likely he never took the pleasure from knowing -- how brilliant and innovative he was to have done all of that.
Max Palevsky’s face was not used to expressing a lot of joy. I mean -- if you had a Max Palevsky mask, you’d wear it to a divorce proceeding -- or an event such as this. Unless that mask captured the look on his face when he was reflecting on his kids and grandkids.
I’ve known no one who has taken more pleasure from his children and his grandchildren than Max. The word “kvell” was invented to express what Max felt about their achievements, about knowing he was soon to be with them, and especially to travel with them, which he did extensively. If his face could ever be described as lighting up, it was when he talked about Jodie, especially in this last year or so. I always thought calling someone an angel was cornball -- until I saw Jodie caring for Max. But Max must have known that before he got sick, after all he married her twice.
Max had great taste in everything.
His Malibu house is as artful as the pieces of art inside it. What he collected, and the way he displayed it, I always felt was the rarest of combinations -- high art, but casually displayed. Museum quality items in a casual atmosphere. I may not be explaining this well. It’s like trying to explain Max himself. He was like much of what he collected, one of a kind.
Who else could convince Packard Bell that they should enter the computer business where later he helped them develop the first silicon computer.
Max rescued Rolling Stone from financial ruin in 1970 and also in that year formed Cinema 5, a movie theatre and distribution operation which later joined with Cinema X. After that he went into independent production with Peter Bart at Paramount Pictures -- and if all that wasn’t unique and eclectic enough, he was elected to the board of the American Ballet Theatre, developed a world class collection of Japanese woodblock prints, established the Palevsky Design Pavilion at the Israel Museum in Jerusalem, built the arts and crafts collection at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, provided the University of Chicago, his alma mater, with three large colorful dormitories, bought this, the Aero Theatre in Santa Monica, for the benefit of The American Cinematheque to present distinguished older films, and was the kingmaker behind the election of the first African American Mayor of a major city, our own Tom Bradley.
The last time I saw Max was a week ago today. He was at home and I called to see if it was okay to come over from my office just a few minutes away. His wonderful caretaker, Caesar -- one of a number who cared so much for Max -- showed me in and I could see Max fighting to stay awake if only to say hello. He didn’t make it but it was a delicious moment to see him fight to be there for me and then give in to what his body called for. The moment was a great metaphor.
Max was there for all of us. You could count on him. I think I want to close with that. We could count on Max Palevsky -- and, Max, you can count on this: We are all here -- wherever the hell we found a place to park -- for you.
Max and I were drawn to one another -- largely I think because our backgrounds were so similar. He was born to immigrant parents who spoke very little English, just Yiddish. I had parents too. He studied electronics at Yale, earned a BS degree in math and a B.PH in philosophy at the University of Chicago and did post-graduate work in philosophy at UC Berkeley. I went to Emerson College. For a year.
And then came our careers. Max joined the Bendix Corp. to develop the first digital computer for which – and I quote –“Max developed the DA-1 differential analyzer option, which connected to the G-15 and resulted in a machine similar to the MADDIDA, using the G-15 to rewire the inputs to the analyzer instead of the custom drums and wiring of the earlier machine. “ You can see at once the symbiotic relationship between that activity and comedy writing.
There is so much I want to say about Max. But what leaps to mind first is a luncheon we had about a year ago at Spago. I think it says a lot about the life force that existed in this dour – sweet, despite the dourness – fun, despite the sad eyes -- a series of paradoxes, as Jodie spoke of him to me the other day. He called me and said he needed to talk to me.
I was at the table when he came in. He’d been quite sick --not necessarily related to the illness that brings us here today but he had been ailing for some time. Anyway, he came in very slowly, took a long time to sit down and after we exchanged pleasantries I asked him what he wanted to talk about.
He looked up at me painfully, and asked:
“Norman, how often are you getting it on these days?” And by these days, I mean in your 80’s?
After I caught my breath I asked - - per year, per month, per week?
Dead serious, he said -- “Per week.”
“Oh, maybe 9-11 times,” I joked.
He looked up at me and he all but whimpered: Two a week is all I can do now.”
I would say that is a life force.
Apologies to you, Jodie. In telling that story I may have revealed a bit of intimacy that involved you, too. And if it didn’t involve you, I made an even bigger mess of things. Then there’s the possibility that Max, at 80- something -- and despite being so frail -- could still bullshit about his sexual prowess as we all did when we were boys.
I wish I could have helped Max enjoy being Max. He seemed to me to be the last one to enjoy the gift he was to all of us -- and in so many directions. He never understood how awesome I thought it that my friend Max, had founded Scientific Data Systems which he then sold to Xerox for a ton of money before funding Intel, one of the world’s leading semiconductor companies and the pioneer in the development of memory chips and microprocessors. . Max didn’t seem to get -- so likely he never took the pleasure from knowing -- how brilliant and innovative he was to have done all of that.
Max Palevsky’s face was not used to expressing a lot of joy. I mean -- if you had a Max Palevsky mask, you’d wear it to a divorce proceeding -- or an event such as this. Unless that mask captured the look on his face when he was reflecting on his kids and grandkids.
I’ve known no one who has taken more pleasure from his children and his grandchildren than Max. The word “kvell” was invented to express what Max felt about their achievements, about knowing he was soon to be with them, and especially to travel with them, which he did extensively. If his face could ever be described as lighting up, it was when he talked about Jodie, especially in this last year or so. I always thought calling someone an angel was cornball -- until I saw Jodie caring for Max. But Max must have known that before he got sick, after all he married her twice.
Max had great taste in everything.
His Malibu house is as artful as the pieces of art inside it. What he collected, and the way he displayed it, I always felt was the rarest of combinations -- high art, but casually displayed. Museum quality items in a casual atmosphere. I may not be explaining this well. It’s like trying to explain Max himself. He was like much of what he collected, one of a kind.
Who else could convince Packard Bell that they should enter the computer business where later he helped them develop the first silicon computer.
Max rescued Rolling Stone from financial ruin in 1970 and also in that year formed Cinema 5, a movie theatre and distribution operation which later joined with Cinema X. After that he went into independent production with Peter Bart at Paramount Pictures -- and if all that wasn’t unique and eclectic enough, he was elected to the board of the American Ballet Theatre, developed a world class collection of Japanese woodblock prints, established the Palevsky Design Pavilion at the Israel Museum in Jerusalem, built the arts and crafts collection at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, provided the University of Chicago, his alma mater, with three large colorful dormitories, bought this, the Aero Theatre in Santa Monica, for the benefit of The American Cinematheque to present distinguished older films, and was the kingmaker behind the election of the first African American Mayor of a major city, our own Tom Bradley.
The last time I saw Max was a week ago today. He was at home and I called to see if it was okay to come over from my office just a few minutes away. His wonderful caretaker, Caesar -- one of a number who cared so much for Max -- showed me in and I could see Max fighting to stay awake if only to say hello. He didn’t make it but it was a delicious moment to see him fight to be there for me and then give in to what his body called for. The moment was a great metaphor.
Max was there for all of us. You could count on him. I think I want to close with that. We could count on Max Palevsky -- and, Max, you can count on this: We are all here -- wherever the hell we found a place to park -- for you.
Peter Bart on Max
I should advise you, I thought I had made a deal with God, never to follow Norman Lear. I must also say, I never really thought that we'd be here to say goodbye to Max, because we've all known him through his various health crises over a period of 40 years. And frankly I thought that Max had a lot on immortality. I still think he does.
So we're here to remember some of Max's wonderful moments and eccentricities. And I guess one of my favorite Max moments was early on when we were making movies. And Max went to Washington during the first couple of weeks of the Jimmy Carter Administration, to meet with the new president and his aids. And when he came back to our office, he was in a black mood. And Max said, "You know what I need is a dark theater. I'm going to watch movies nonstop for a week. And then I need the care of a serious psychotherapist. And I appreciated his attitudes. And he got typical of Max.
We made some movies together, and in the process of making movies, as with everything else, I found Max to be a demanding man. He demanded the best of himself. He demanded the best in food, art, in friends, in pot. And at the same time I found that he was a collector--just as he collected art-in a way, he collected filmmakers, from Costa Gavras, on through Ophuls, Herzog, and even up to Terry Malick. And as you all know, it takes patience to be a patron of Terry Malick.
But through it all in the filmmaking process, one thing I loved about Max was that he admired the technology of filmmaking, as well as its performance. And I don't know if Jane Fonda is here, but I remember when we made Fun With Dick And Jane...Max was watching dailies with me, and Jane at one point came out. And of her own volition, peed in the middle of the scene, as a part of the scene on camera. And Max said to me, he said, "I love Jane, I mean she's the first American actress, who just out of defiance would choose to pee on camera." And I knew exactly what he meant.
Thank you.
So we're here to remember some of Max's wonderful moments and eccentricities. And I guess one of my favorite Max moments was early on when we were making movies. And Max went to Washington during the first couple of weeks of the Jimmy Carter Administration, to meet with the new president and his aids. And when he came back to our office, he was in a black mood. And Max said, "You know what I need is a dark theater. I'm going to watch movies nonstop for a week. And then I need the care of a serious psychotherapist. And I appreciated his attitudes. And he got typical of Max.
We made some movies together, and in the process of making movies, as with everything else, I found Max to be a demanding man. He demanded the best of himself. He demanded the best in food, art, in friends, in pot. And at the same time I found that he was a collector--just as he collected art-in a way, he collected filmmakers, from Costa Gavras, on through Ophuls, Herzog, and even up to Terry Malick. And as you all know, it takes patience to be a patron of Terry Malick.
But through it all in the filmmaking process, one thing I loved about Max was that he admired the technology of filmmaking, as well as its performance. And I don't know if Jane Fonda is here, but I remember when we made Fun With Dick And Jane...Max was watching dailies with me, and Jane at one point came out. And of her own volition, peed in the middle of the scene, as a part of the scene on camera. And Max said to me, he said, "I love Jane, I mean she's the first American actress, who just out of defiance would choose to pee on camera." And I knew exactly what he meant.
Thank you.
Pete England on Max and SDS
I'm Pete England. I represent the early days, the SDS, the computer days. There's a few of us from SDS that made it here today. Unfortunately, a very few, and I'm the youngest. In fact, when I first met Max, it was at Packard Bell Computer Corporation. And I was all of 22, maybe 23. And Max was a wise old man of 36, but he was running the place, and I'm a fledgling programmer. And I can remember the first time I was in a meeting with him. I got dragged in by the marketing people who wanted to propose a special system to a particular customer, and they wanted me to talk about software-or programming. I'm not even sure we were using the software term then. So I didn't know a whole lot, but I came in, and I'm waiting to say my piece. And they start talking about what the customer wants and how we would satisfy this requirement, and everything and Max goes, "When do we get paid?"
I look up and say, "that's a business question. That's interesting." cause what he was concerned with was do we get paid when we show that it works in our site, in our laboratory, or do we have to wait until it's shipped, installed, and the customer does all his stuff, and then we get paid. That's a long time in those days. So he was focused on the business aspects.
And I found over the years that watching him manage business was a great education for me. He had a great way of empowering people and motivating them. He believed in delegating, and did not believe in trying to manage everything. And he empowered people to do things. One of the ways he did that was to chew you out when you were not doing what he expected you to do. Particularly in front of other people, which made it clear not only to you, but to them that you were supposed to be doing something you weren't doing. He was never petty, and he was never personal, but he was very effective. I can remember getting a number of those. In fact I see Jack Mitchell sitting out there. I remember watching him get one in the corridor.
Everybody who ever worked at SDS in Santa Monica has a “Max at 8 o’clock in the morning” story, because Max believed very strongly that the way the company started up in the morning set the tone for how it would do during the day. So he wanted things to start at 8 o'clock. And what he wanted in particular was that the managers and the professional staff get there on time and set an example for the clerical staff and the technicians. So anybody who comes straggling in at ten minutes after eight, or fifteen minutes after eight, was likely to get one of those stares that you don't see in the smiling pictures up here. And everybody, as I say, has a story about that.
The management working for him kept trying to come up with ways to satisfy his requirement, because he would lecture people about getting in on time. What he really wanted was for them to do it by example. They kept coming up with Draconian solutions. "We'll lock all the doors." and they'd have to go through the lobby and sign in. He never let them do that, because that's petty, and he was never petty. He did it by example.
He had a tremendous amount of integrity. And I have one little story on that one that I found very interesting. There was one period of time when I was actually working directly for Max. I'm a lowly programmer. I'm down a couple of levels most of the time, but I reported to Max when we had a contract with a French company that jointly developed the computer. And he made me the program manger, which meant, "figure out how to get this done, but don't disrupt the rest of our business."
One of those empowering situations. But I got to read the contract, and I didn't have anything to do with creating it. But I remember reading the contract and when you get down to conflict resolution or problem resolution, the final stage in that said, "the head of the French company" -the then "head"- "and Max Palevsky, wherever he may be, will decide on the final solution. I thought that was interesting. It didn't talk about the "then Head" of SDS, but it talked about Max personally. He's who they wanted to be involved in making a decision. That was their trust in his integrity.
He was a very generous person, personally, as we've all seen, but that didn't apply to how he ran the company. He was rather frugal, and frugal with expense reports, and with buying things. Everybody got that experience. I learned my basic training in the company that he ran. It was rather a big shock when I was acquired by Xerox. And they were riding high as a monopoly with more money than they knew what to do with. Everybody flew first-class. I blew my entire travel budget in two months. Nobody cared. It was a big shock for me, because it was not the way that I had learned things.
Max had a number of idiosyncrasies. I was thinking about one of them today when I was getting dressed for this. In the 60's, in spite of the pictures, at SDS in Santa Monica Max wore blue shirts. Everybody wore a tie then. Those were the days when we were all suits. We wore shirts and ties, but Max always wore a blue shirt. One day, he shows up with a white shirt on. And so naturally, when I passed him I said, "What's with the white shirt?" He says, "Well, I had to go to a funeral, and it was a formal funeral. I thought the least I could do was wear the white shirt." So in Max's honor today, I wore a white shirt for his memorial.
He had a rather unique way to use language. He came up with all kinds of interesting phrases. One of them that I particularly like is he built a house in the desert in Palm Springs. And he described it to me as a one-room getaway in the desert. I kid you not. "It's just a one-room getaway in the desert." Yep, it's got an ancient Greek column in the courtyard, modern art on the wall, the Calder sculpture out by the pool, but in fact it is basically one room. It's 30 by 60, uh...one room.
So after he built that, and I was talking to him one time, I said, "Well, you have a place in the desert now. Is it time to get one at the beach?" He says, "I hate the beach." OK. Forget about that.
A couple years later I'm having lunch with him, and he says, "I'm gonna build a place at the beach." I said "I thought you hated the beach." (Max said) "Well the problem with the beach, from the south of Long Beach, all the way up to Malibu is that it's a swamp" I said, "Well, it's not all a swamp." He (Max) says, "It's a swamp!" (Pete said...) "Well, what's your definition of swamp?" Max said..."A swamp is where you can reach out your window and touch the house next door." Max said... "Your right. It's all a swamp." He (Max) said, "So I bought four acres overlooking Paradise Cove." You know one of the things that people don't understand is that money doesn't buy happiness, but it can buy privacy.
I think that over time I kind of learned that Max was fundamentally a little shy. In spite of the way that he presented himself, he was running the company, but underneath that he was a little bit shy.
One of the things I know he did not like to do was give performance appraisals. And that was too personal. He just didn't like to do that. And I was working for him when I was running the French joint development, and I very much wanted a performance appraisal, and there wasn't any precedent for this job. I didn't know how I was doing. I wasn't getting complaints, but you know, I wanted feedback. So, I'm waiting for him to either call or come down and give me my performance appraisal.
We had what at the time was the last SDS reunion in 1998, and we put the list together, and we got the invitations out. And Max's secretary at the time called me up and said, "Could you come by and talk to Max about what he's going to say, you know, when he gets up to talk to all the people?" I said, "Sure. Anytime."
Days go by, nothing happens. I get a call, "Could you write a little note about things to say?" I said, "Sure." One of the things he told me before we got into this discussion is that he was thinking about getting a writer to write him some jokes. And I had told him, "Max, don't tell jokes." And he says, "That's what my wife said."
Well, he still hadn't figured out what he was going to say, so I wrote him a little note, and I said, "It's very simple Max. You got a friendly audience. They're all people that were at SDS. So you just stand up and say, "Thank you for coming." Tell them a little bit about why you wanted to have the party, but whatever you do, don't tell jokes.
So I'm still waiting to hear from him. I don't hear from him. I even went to the party early in case he wanted to talk. We never did. Everybody was coming in. He was greeting people. When we were going out to sit down for dinner, I see he's carrying my email. And when we got through dinner and we got up, he said, "Pete England sent me an email about what I should say when I was up here. The first thing he said is, 'Don't tell jokes' ", which of course achieved the effect that he wanted by finding some humorous way to start.
I'll miss Max. I'll miss his perspective on life. I enjoyed talking to him over the years, and sometimes it would be a couple of years before we'd get together. We didn't agree on a lot of things, politics in particular, but I did enjoy being with him. I enjoyed the way he talked about things and I enjoyed his perspective. And I will miss him.
I look up and say, "that's a business question. That's interesting." cause what he was concerned with was do we get paid when we show that it works in our site, in our laboratory, or do we have to wait until it's shipped, installed, and the customer does all his stuff, and then we get paid. That's a long time in those days. So he was focused on the business aspects.
And I found over the years that watching him manage business was a great education for me. He had a great way of empowering people and motivating them. He believed in delegating, and did not believe in trying to manage everything. And he empowered people to do things. One of the ways he did that was to chew you out when you were not doing what he expected you to do. Particularly in front of other people, which made it clear not only to you, but to them that you were supposed to be doing something you weren't doing. He was never petty, and he was never personal, but he was very effective. I can remember getting a number of those. In fact I see Jack Mitchell sitting out there. I remember watching him get one in the corridor.
Everybody who ever worked at SDS in Santa Monica has a “Max at 8 o’clock in the morning” story, because Max believed very strongly that the way the company started up in the morning set the tone for how it would do during the day. So he wanted things to start at 8 o'clock. And what he wanted in particular was that the managers and the professional staff get there on time and set an example for the clerical staff and the technicians. So anybody who comes straggling in at ten minutes after eight, or fifteen minutes after eight, was likely to get one of those stares that you don't see in the smiling pictures up here. And everybody, as I say, has a story about that.
The management working for him kept trying to come up with ways to satisfy his requirement, because he would lecture people about getting in on time. What he really wanted was for them to do it by example. They kept coming up with Draconian solutions. "We'll lock all the doors." and they'd have to go through the lobby and sign in. He never let them do that, because that's petty, and he was never petty. He did it by example.
He had a tremendous amount of integrity. And I have one little story on that one that I found very interesting. There was one period of time when I was actually working directly for Max. I'm a lowly programmer. I'm down a couple of levels most of the time, but I reported to Max when we had a contract with a French company that jointly developed the computer. And he made me the program manger, which meant, "figure out how to get this done, but don't disrupt the rest of our business."
One of those empowering situations. But I got to read the contract, and I didn't have anything to do with creating it. But I remember reading the contract and when you get down to conflict resolution or problem resolution, the final stage in that said, "the head of the French company" -the then "head"- "and Max Palevsky, wherever he may be, will decide on the final solution. I thought that was interesting. It didn't talk about the "then Head" of SDS, but it talked about Max personally. He's who they wanted to be involved in making a decision. That was their trust in his integrity.
He was a very generous person, personally, as we've all seen, but that didn't apply to how he ran the company. He was rather frugal, and frugal with expense reports, and with buying things. Everybody got that experience. I learned my basic training in the company that he ran. It was rather a big shock when I was acquired by Xerox. And they were riding high as a monopoly with more money than they knew what to do with. Everybody flew first-class. I blew my entire travel budget in two months. Nobody cared. It was a big shock for me, because it was not the way that I had learned things.
Max had a number of idiosyncrasies. I was thinking about one of them today when I was getting dressed for this. In the 60's, in spite of the pictures, at SDS in Santa Monica Max wore blue shirts. Everybody wore a tie then. Those were the days when we were all suits. We wore shirts and ties, but Max always wore a blue shirt. One day, he shows up with a white shirt on. And so naturally, when I passed him I said, "What's with the white shirt?" He says, "Well, I had to go to a funeral, and it was a formal funeral. I thought the least I could do was wear the white shirt." So in Max's honor today, I wore a white shirt for his memorial.
He had a rather unique way to use language. He came up with all kinds of interesting phrases. One of them that I particularly like is he built a house in the desert in Palm Springs. And he described it to me as a one-room getaway in the desert. I kid you not. "It's just a one-room getaway in the desert." Yep, it's got an ancient Greek column in the courtyard, modern art on the wall, the Calder sculpture out by the pool, but in fact it is basically one room. It's 30 by 60, uh...one room.
So after he built that, and I was talking to him one time, I said, "Well, you have a place in the desert now. Is it time to get one at the beach?" He says, "I hate the beach." OK. Forget about that.
A couple years later I'm having lunch with him, and he says, "I'm gonna build a place at the beach." I said "I thought you hated the beach." (Max said) "Well the problem with the beach, from the south of Long Beach, all the way up to Malibu is that it's a swamp" I said, "Well, it's not all a swamp." He (Max) says, "It's a swamp!" (Pete said...) "Well, what's your definition of swamp?" Max said..."A swamp is where you can reach out your window and touch the house next door." Max said... "Your right. It's all a swamp." He (Max) said, "So I bought four acres overlooking Paradise Cove." You know one of the things that people don't understand is that money doesn't buy happiness, but it can buy privacy.
I think that over time I kind of learned that Max was fundamentally a little shy. In spite of the way that he presented himself, he was running the company, but underneath that he was a little bit shy.
One of the things I know he did not like to do was give performance appraisals. And that was too personal. He just didn't like to do that. And I was working for him when I was running the French joint development, and I very much wanted a performance appraisal, and there wasn't any precedent for this job. I didn't know how I was doing. I wasn't getting complaints, but you know, I wanted feedback. So, I'm waiting for him to either call or come down and give me my performance appraisal.
We had what at the time was the last SDS reunion in 1998, and we put the list together, and we got the invitations out. And Max's secretary at the time called me up and said, "Could you come by and talk to Max about what he's going to say, you know, when he gets up to talk to all the people?" I said, "Sure. Anytime."
Days go by, nothing happens. I get a call, "Could you write a little note about things to say?" I said, "Sure." One of the things he told me before we got into this discussion is that he was thinking about getting a writer to write him some jokes. And I had told him, "Max, don't tell jokes." And he says, "That's what my wife said."
Well, he still hadn't figured out what he was going to say, so I wrote him a little note, and I said, "It's very simple Max. You got a friendly audience. They're all people that were at SDS. So you just stand up and say, "Thank you for coming." Tell them a little bit about why you wanted to have the party, but whatever you do, don't tell jokes.
So I'm still waiting to hear from him. I don't hear from him. I even went to the party early in case he wanted to talk. We never did. Everybody was coming in. He was greeting people. When we were going out to sit down for dinner, I see he's carrying my email. And when we got through dinner and we got up, he said, "Pete England sent me an email about what I should say when I was up here. The first thing he said is, 'Don't tell jokes' ", which of course achieved the effect that he wanted by finding some humorous way to start.
I'll miss Max. I'll miss his perspective on life. I enjoyed talking to him over the years, and sometimes it would be a couple of years before we'd get together. We didn't agree on a lot of things, politics in particular, but I did enjoy being with him. I enjoyed the way he talked about things and I enjoyed his perspective. And I will miss him.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)