From Kay Mills

Wendy: I think I screwed up. I never was good at technology. Here is what I wrote and see if you can post it for me.

I have been a friend of Wendy Lazarus for more than 20 years, if memory serves (and it sometimes doesn’t). I wanted to make it clear that she does have friends because, when I ran into her at the bookstore today, she said her twin wondered if she had any. Evidently few if any have answered the call to the birthday blog. So here, friend Wendy, I am.

I don’t have any outrageous memories of her. So if you are hoping to find scandal, you can stop reading now. I do, of course, think her eating habits are scandalous, given that fruits and vegetables seem rarely to find their way into her diet. Ice cream, oui; les vegetables, non. No wonder she never has any energy. No wonder at 60 she no longer plays tennis and I, who saw 60 some years ago and waved it bye-bye, still do. But who’s counting? Who’s looking at her plate at dinner? I love spinach; I’m not sure Wendy has ever heard of it.

Wendy and I met when she was doing her child advocacy thing and I was doing my editorial writing thing for the Los Angeles Times. Remember the Los Angeles Times? It used to be a great newspaper. Anyway, she was a great source because I wrote about children’s issues, among other things. I hope that we helped each other with our causes. Soon we discovered we both played tennis and some days I would sneak out of the office (I always said I had completed my work early) and we’d meet at the Rancho Park courts for a match. Later after I left the paper and was writing books, we’d meet at the Santa Monica courts just off the beach, a place as beautiful as you could ever want for a tennis game, with palm trees and ocean breezes. Later still we played at Pacific Palisades until she pulled up lame. They do not, however, shoot tennis players, only horses.

Over the last few years, Wendy and I have tried to share what we call “cultchyah”—culture for those of you who are uninitiated into LA speak. We do our best to schedule outings to plays amid our various travels, hers usually for work and mine mainly for pleasure (Paris? Did someone ask me about my trip to Paris? Wanna know what I was buying at the bookstore today?). We walk in Palisades Park, along the beach and then up the (to me) seemingly endless stairs up from the canyon back into her neighborhood. Sometimes we laugh ourselves silly over our faulty memories.

So where was I? Oh, yes. Wendy is my friend, a person who gives good counsel, good election night parties (especially when she conjures up an Obama victory), and good vibes on everything except what she eats. Happy Birthday to the Lazarus twins! Kay Mills

(P.S. This was not a paid political announcement. Wendy did not approve this message. All she did was ask me to write one. Had I gotten paid, it would have been flowerier. Keep that in mind, fellow Wendy friends.)