The Lardner Report

I lost my best friend  last week — in fact, on Christmas Day.  The worst blow to the gut I’ve felt in some time.  Clearly, that’s not the joyful part.

Susan Passi Klaus and I became friends in our twenties, at the legendary Nashville TV station WSM-TV.  It was a time we could do anything, say anything, and share everything.

I moved several times over the next 40 years, but Susan and I always stayed in touch.  Even if our calls were months apart, we’d laugh until our stomachs cramped and then laugh again. No matter what Susan was going through, she had a humorous – slightly twisted – take on it. It’s what I treasure most.

A week ago, on December 19th at 5:04 p.m., I called her again in Nashville. We talked for 43 minutes. It would be the last time that we’d touch base, that I’d hear about her latest stupid adventure, and share a laugh. I treasure those 43 minutes, and let her know how much I loved her.  She was gone 5 days later.

I’m not sure exactly what inspired me to call her, or what led her to actually pick up the phone, but it was perfect synchronicity. I am so grateful for that one last chance to have connected, not knowing it would be the last.

Susan probably touched thousands of lives with the shows she produced and humorous, self-deprecating weekly columns she wrote  for several Nashville newspapers. But as my friend, she taught me that checking in — just for the hell of it — was the stuff that buoys the spirit, and stays a lifetime.

So the New Year’s resolution? Make the call. If you think of it — just do it. It will give you a sense of comfort and joy. We really don’t know what lies ahead — might as well send some love and make someone’s day…. or your own.

A lesson in capturing the moment.

I’m considering hanging this piece in my living room, That’s how much I like it. But I also kinda hate it, and it’s all because of my jerk of a husband.

He has this new annoying habit. I’ll come in from my travels, and tell him about some great piece of found art I saw. A decayed, graffitied wall, the patina on an old car, a weird reflection of random shadows and shapes. But lately, when I share one of these stories he says, “Sounds amazing. If you’d taken 5 seconds and snapped a photo of it, then I could share in your joy. But since you were too busy….”

I told you — jerk. He calls these conversations teachable moments. I call them his being a d**k. Turns out, we’re both right.

It is annoying, but yesterday when I was walking in from getting the mail, I saw this cool reflection (above) in the rear quarter panel of my car. Then I heard that irritating phrase in my head. I took the 5 seconds to open the camera app on my phone, and snap a couple shots. I love it so much.

His point of course, is that we have the tech to document the discovery. We all carry around these great cameras in our pockets. It requires so little effort, and absolutely no expense to record the image. Maybe 99 times out of a hundred, I’ll decide the picture is worthless and delete it. But every once in a while there’s an image that moves me. Like this one. I love it. He was right. I hate that.

I swore I’d be more prepared if it ever happened again. Who was I kidding?

I think it’s time to come to terms with what I have always considered a very serious flaw. I’m not a planner. And anyone who knows me would say that’s a gross (in every sense of the word) understatement.

I don’t organize my underwear drawer, I don’t have any idea where my marriage license is, and there are days when I dread having to open the mail. And when it comes to an actual crisis — like the wildfires blazing at this very moment a couple of miles north — I just get paralyzed.

This season, The LA Fire Department has issued a guideline for all of us to follow when faced with the rolling red freight train thundering down our lane.  It’s a simple, easy-to-remember survival campaign called, “Ready, Set, Go.” 

Clear enough. Easy to understand. Direct.  But why I have to skip the first two orders to blitz right into the third one, is beyond me. The LAFD says being “ready” means prepping your home and car with necessities: gathering all the pertinent docs, meds and memories ahead of time. Getting “set” means parking your car facing out of your driveway. And “go” — well, that’s where I come in. I am ready to GO.  Let’s get the hell outta here. Just don’t ask me to organize anything before that. 

To be honest, I have trouble explaining my “crisis avoidance system” — but it’s pretty clear when someone suggests I prepare— well, they might as well just be speaking Urdu.

My only working theory is that after 25 years reporting thousands of news stories on what could be described as insane deadlines, I got used to the pace. There really was no time to prepare. No time to “set.” We’d get an assignment and have to gather the facts, often in minutes, to make air time. Skipping the first two steps became habit, and then our daily M.O. — always with the goal of being first on the air.

My husband’s theory is that I’m an adrenaline junkie. He thinks I create a last-minute panic because it gives me a rush.  As a producer at KCBS-TV News, he witnessed my pushing every story I covered to the very last second — to the point where the director overseeing my live-shot would ask, “Where the hell is Lardner?” My head would pop into frame 10 seconds before the anchors tossed to me in the field. It was a rough way to conduct business. And admittedly very selfish.

But he has a point. And in the end, he would probably be the first to say I can I give up the self-hate for just doing things differently. He might even appreciate the fact that I’m even looking at “the why.” But we’re about to be evacuated from our home right now, so I guess I gotta go.