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  • Jerry Della Femina

IT'S ANOTHER YEAR AND ANOTHER BIRTHDAY, ONCE AGAIN PROVING "ONLY THE GOOD DIE YOUNG" (7/21/20)

This is practically the same birthday column I write every year.


But this, of course, is the weirdest year in all the weird years of my weird life.

This year there's a virus out there that wants to kill me. It already got my brother Joe, a good man, whom I miss so much every day.


I'm wearing a mask to help me and everyone with whom I come in contact to stay alive until my birthday next year.


I also want to thank Donald Trump and Bill de Blasio for the gift of life. I do not intend to die while these two idiots are in office. I'm cranky because I'm watching the world in de Blasio-land and Trump-land deteriorating right before my eyes.


I see a world filled with anger. I see a world filled with miserable, lonely young people searching ... searching ... searching for God knows what.


I walk past them all and realize how lucky I am. They will always be alone. They will never enjoy the secret of life.


The secret of life can be revealed in one word: Family.


I've had two wonderful wives, I have five great kids – Donna, Michael, Jodi, Jessie and J.T. – and now I have eight (count them: 8!) wonderful grandchildren: Zoey, Zach, Jack, William, Anabel, Charlie, Maggie and the latest grandchild Teddy, who is a beautiful baby, seven months old, who is the hope of my future.


That's the secret of life.


It all came to me at another birthday celebration for me that took place many years ago at a family beach bonfire. I was sitting cross-legged on the beach in the most uncomfortable position one could be in while one is contemplating his life.


I stared into the fire and this is what I thought:


I'm lucky. I'm so, so lucky.


I'm lucky because I grew up in Brooklyn and I live in New York City and in the Hamptons and it doesn't get better anywhere else in the world.


I've lived and live in the best of times. The three greatest inventions in the history of mankind have come in my lifetime. Forget about penicillin and splitting the atom. Penicillin is about sickness and the atom is about death.


The three greatest inventions of my, and your, lifetime are:


The George Foreman Grill

EZPass

The iPhone

Take it from the birthday boy. Eating, listening to great music on Pandora, and not waiting on tollbooth lines are what a good, superficial life is all about.


As the fire burned I thought about my birthday and how, somehow in my life, I got all the breaks.


I'm lucky because I was in advertising in the 1960s and 1970s when it was wild and crazy and I was, some would say, the wildest and the craziest.


It came naturally. I survived. I'm still in advertising. I came into advertising in the 1960s as a messenger without much of an education. I was delivering packages for $24 a week.


For years I did not hold a single job that paid more than $24 a week. And now that I think back, I was probably overpaid at $24 a week.


I blamed no one for my condition. There weren't any hustling politicians around to tell me I should blame anyone else for my being broke and telling me I should hate anyone else for having money when I didn't.


Then in 1961 I got my first job in an advertising agency as a copywriter. By 1978 I co-owned a $600 million advertising agency.


I also learned that money isn't the end-all. I would go out to my fancy L.A. office and my agency-leased Hollywood Hills home and rent a convertible and ride the coast highway alone, obsessively playing the Neil Diamond song "I Am I Said" over and over.

The words of this part of the song were not lost on me:

"Did you ever read about a frog

Who dreamed of being a king

And then became one

Well except for the names

And a few other changes

If you talk about me

The story's the same one."


Then, as I stared at the bonfire, I realized how my family and extended family have grown. There, sitting cross-legged with much more ease than me, were our good friends Michael and Nancy Hodin and Andrew Saffir and Daniel Benedict. All five of my children and their spouses and their children were enjoying the fire under a blanket of stars and a world-class moon.


I sat and looked at my family and I thought about how small my family was when I was a kid. It was my brother Joe and me, my mom and dad, and my grandparents. My wife, the beautiful Judy Licht, who was an only child, grew up in a smaller family than mine.


We never talked about having a big family. It just happened.


Then I realized that when Connie and Michael Della Femina had their first child, they set off a chain that came together here around this beautiful bonfire.

In the end, it's about family. It's not about religion or money or power or any of the things we all grow up thinking that matters. It's about family.

I looked at my family and watched as the light of the bonfire flickered and reflected on their faces. My sweet granddaughter Zoey Hart took her musically-talented dad Adam's guitar from him and started to play and sing. Her sweet voice had its own orchestra of waves that were softly hitting the shore. She's very talented. That's not just grandfather talk, that's the plain old truth.


My daughter, Donna, looking very much like her wonderful mother Barbara, proudly watched and kept a close eye on her son, Zach, who was toasting and consuming marshmallows at an alarming rate.


The firelight made everyone's eyes sparkle. My daughter Jodi was holding Anabel, whom everyone calls Beany, the oldest of her now three beautiful children (Charlie and Maggie have been born since then). Beany, with her Asian/Italian looks, is so, so beautiful, she takes my breath away.


Next to her was my son Michael and his wife, the beautiful and sweet and stylish Laurie, and their two handsome sons, Jack and William.

Now my granddaughter passed her guitar to John Kim, my wonderful son-in-law. John is a born entertainer. He played his guitar and sang in the frat houses of Brown and Harvard, where he went to school. His singing voice is rich and husky and I hear a lot of Rod Stewart when he sings. John started to play the guitar.


He started singing the old Rolling Stones classic, "You Can't Always Get What You Want":

"No, you can't always get what you want

You can't always get what you want

You can't always get what you want

But if you try sometime you just might find

You get what you need."


I looked at the faces in the firelight: Judy, Jessie (who has since married the wonderful Ben Gliklich), J.T., Beany, Donna, Michael, Laurie, Adam, William, Jack, John, Jodi, Zoey, Zach.


My family. My life.


John's husky voice filled the soft night air.


"You can't always get what you want."


I smiled to myself.


"Oh yes you can," I thought to myself. "Oh yes you can."


I know I did.



-If you wish to comment on "Jerry’s Ink" please send your message to jerry@dfjp.com

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