My schedule is not a 9 to 5 schedule, and so for a while most mornings I would go and have breakfast at a local diner (“my” diner, I think of it), and on weekdays it was usually pretty dead. All of the waitresses know me now, and put in my order when they see me coming. It’s a relaxed place, pretty old-school. Every morning, Monday to Friday, two old guys would be there at the counter, reading The New York Times. I got the sense that they did not come together, but that this was sort of a thing they did, as friends, meet up for breakfast every morning. They are never there on the weekends, however. At least I’ve never seen them there. These men are 78, 79, if they are a day. One had what I took to be a German accent, but I got from his comments that he has been in the United States for decades. They talk about the news. They chat about all kinds of different topics. They are both well-read. I do not fact-check them, because that would be beside the point. They are chatting, they are throwing the ball of conversation in the air, over their coffee and pancakes. They enjoy discussing the philosophy behind world events, the motivations of people like Genghis Khan or Stalin. They get into it, in a banter that I have come to treasure. (It reminds me a bit of the classic Statler and Waldorf dialogue I overheard years ago at a play here in New York.)
One day I decided to write down what the guys said, as much of it as I could possibly cram onto one napkin. Here is a transcript. This is just one small slice of what they talked about in one conversation. You can see why I love it when they’re there at the same time I am.
Guy 1: “She and Queen Mary Stuart were cousins. They were very intermingled.”
Guy 2: “It’s all one family.”
Guy 1: “She was a Catholic and Lizzie was Church of England.”
Guy 2: Yes, but she had a good job in Scotland. Why did she need more and more?”
Guy 1: “James became King of Scotland after she was decapitated. She had to take all her clothes off …”
Guy 2: “Like Marie Antoinette.”
Guy 1: “Yes.”
Guy 2: “In the old days they had the hatchet. And then this guy named Guillotine came along – like Gillette – like the razor. They were barbarians.”
Guy 1: “They called her the Virgin Queen. You know why?”
Guy 2: “We have more gold bullion than anyone.”
Guy 1: “Member Goldfinger?”
Guy 2: “Oh, yes.”
Guy 1: “Member King Midas?”
Guy 2: “He had a lot of gold, yes.”
Guy 1: “Everyone stole everything from Tesla. He was the genius. He came from Serbia, one of those Balkan countries. He came here, he didn’t have a job. He was told ‘Go see Thomas Edison’ – He did, and he stole everything.”
Guy 2: “Do they kill people in New Jersey?
Guy 1: “No.”
Guy 2: “You kill 20 people in Texas and you come here – then you have to go back there.”
Guy 1: “Name me one good honest king.”
Guy 2: “Charlemagne.”
Huge bursts of laughter from both.
Guy 2: “Oh, no, he killed all of the Saxons, didn’t he? He shot them himself. But he must have had something in it for himself.”
Guy 2: “Dillinger went into business for himself. That’s the way they figured it in those days.”
Someone could easily do a 1-3 act play or film version of these meetings. In 30-40 years we will no longer have these fantastic conversations of this generation to overhear, record, or simply relish. There is a specific understanding, humor, and experience here that combined is golden to our ears when imagined what we will sound like to future generations. It seems the sort of thing that should be lodged in some sort of record.
Sheila, cannot begin to describe how much I love this topic! L-O-V-E love! Will skip the 10,000 words I am itching to write you in reply. Here are some quick notes of my own adventures in the field: my fave counter club to aim my right ear toward (3-6 regulars) split over the market crash, fall of BushMcCain/Palin, and election of Barry O in a LOUD, nasty, and nearly violent way one morning in late ’08, and has never recovered. WO. WO. WO. Still resonating through the village, if you catch one of ’em at the Post Office next door.
I have actually run into fb mutuals of ours there… trippy… because I felt like my cover was blown while hiding out, even though the place is not a secret, but in fact a crossroads hub… it’s what can happen if you don’t get out of there before lunch, or especially dinner time.
Do you know the diner scene in 32 SF about Glenn Gould? He listens to the voices of his local diner at breakfast, with Petulia Clark on the jukebox, selectively mixing the sounds in his head like a symphony.
As Dillinger knew… the spoils of self-employment can be greatly GREAT, indeed!
// As Dillinger knew //
HAHAHAHA
John – I have a similar response. It’s like the way the guys talk around the table in Broadway Danny Rose. It’s also like: these are men who have an experience of time as something slow. Maybe that’s being old, but I think it comes out of an old-school sense of time – you get your New York Times – and you take the time to read the whole thing, and you talk about it, while you linger over your 6th cup of coffee. You can’t really do that if you’re in a rush, or distracting yourself with all this other input. I am not against technology (obviously) – but I love listening to these guys. I keep forgetting to bring my notebook just in case they’re there – but now that I’ve posted this I most definitely will, so I can take some more notes.
A couple of times they have included me in their banter – turning to me to say, “And what do you think of that?” and I’m always a little bit thrilled.
I think my favorite part is “Yeah, but she had a good job in Scotland …”
I would totally love to hang out with these two guys. I know what you mean when you said you were thrilled to be included in their banter.
I love it, too, because in their eyes I probably seem way younger than i am. They treat me like I’m a young innocent girl. One guy pointed at his stack of pancakes and said, “Ya see this? I’m gathering my strength for my deployment to Afghanistan.” The man is 80. hahahahaha
Kent – I loooooove that Glenn Gould scene.
I love your whole comment.
Speaking of these conversations: when Clifford Odets was first writing plays for the Group Theatre, and they’d be rehearsing them, everyone would be all focused on trying to make it real and subtle and nuanced. It was driving Odets crazy, because he based his dialogue on the raucous arguments of his Jewish relatives over dinner on the lower East Side. So he placed an archaic version of a tape recorder beneath the table at one of these relatives’ dinners – and then brought it to a Group Theatre rehearsal and played it. The bombast, the declarations, the broad comedy … the actors, who all came from that world themselves for the most part (like Julie Garfield!!) had big A-ha moments. They listened and knew exactly what to do.
Love that!!
Wow. “My Breakfast with Andre”! If only taking a recording device of some sort in there wouldn’t be such a sketchy thing to do….
Jaquandor – I know!! Writing down what they say is sketchy enough. But I write pretty fast. I’ve always thought I could have another career as a closed-caption typist.
Another person sticking up for Tesla! Good to know I am not alone! Go Tesla!!!!!
Wonderful, Sheila, and aren’t you lucky to have that waiting every morning!
Meanwhile… wasn’t “two guys talkin’ it over” one of the best features of the enduring Seinfeld show? Those diner conversations between George and Jerry were priceless. In fact I can picture them both in their mid to late late seventies still going at it with vigor, maybe over something like the benefits of fiber (which George of course would be against), or Jerry busting George for lying to the waitress about his age.
Also, what about the best diner chat of all which took place in the movie of the same name… “Diner”.
I repeat, aren’t you lucky, Sheila…
Two old guys in a diner talking about history — from Charlemagne to Dillinger — and not about their grandchildren, the weather, kids these days, their ailments, etc.
Fascinating, and probably only in New York.
Scribbler – Yes, I love those scenes of banter in Diner! You must overhear some great stuff yourself in your line of work. :)
Gina – have you heard of Drunk History? A Web series where someone gets wasted and then talks about an event in history – which is then re-enacted (exactly as the drunk person tells it, with hiccups and mistakes) by famous people – like Michael Cera, Jack Black, many many others. They are hilarious.
Their most recent episode is the story of Tesla, with John C. Reilly playing Tesla and Crispin Glover playing a maniacal Edison. Hilarious.
“I am inventing electricity and you …. look like a fucking asshole.”
I have not heard of that before but I will certainly look it up! it sounds great, thanks!
These two gents have it right. This is gold Sheila, pure gold. I love that you’ve taken these gems down and shared them here.
Years ago, I would listen to many of the old-timers at the Hollywood YMCA, have conversations such as this. A wonderful group of men. Al ‘Doc’ Brown, Abe Rosen, Ivan Bonar, Georg Fenady and never forget the great, Court Shepard. What a sweet mug . Played the part of boxing champ,’Tony Zale,’ in ‘Somebody Up There Likes Me’. Loved hearing him talk about that experience. Newman. The fight game. Old-school indeed.
They’re all long since gone now. Taught me a lot about life. Great stories. Fond memories. Man how I miss those guys and days gone by.
I’ll look forward to your next post of napkin conversations.
Gold.