For those who have had trouble accessing my Slow Looking site, the link appears now to be working. It is, however, for some reason, not as smooth and instantaneous as I'd like it to be. Please exercise your best patience for the few suspenseful seconds it takes to actually connect!
Yesterday after posting my entry I clicked over to my Facebook page to see if I could engage others in a dialogue about the word--and the qualities of a--gentleman. Imagine my surprise when I discovered there that Eli Broad wants to be my friend!
For those who may have dozed through the last few decades, Eli--my new friend deserves first name familiarity--is the zillionaire philanthropist and patron of the arts whose massive influence in the culture of Los Angeles has frequently proved controversial. Is he the evil despot or the genuine, pure-minded benefactor? (A bit of both, I suspect, like the rest of us.)
Anyway, coming upon his friend request, of course I clicked "Accept." Given the dribble of revenues from my books, I could use some friends like this! Having thus speedily accepted, I was notified, to my astonishment, that "Eli has 3 friends." Only three? Poor Eli! And, one line further on: "Eli needs more friends. Can you help him?"
This is, I swear it, true. (Or is someone having fun?)
So here I am, doing my best for Eli, asking you to friend him. Three friends is not enough for such a man. Well, four at this point, counting me. I can tell you with some assurance that he's a nice person, in person. A gentleman--to return to the issue I was originally concerned with. I have interviewed him in the past on art world matters and found him, yes, to be a thoroughly nice person. Okay, powerful. And he has a zillion dollars. Please don't hold that against him. He's just a rich guy--well, a super, super, super rich guy--determined to use his wealth to create of Los Angeles, his adoptive city, the greatest cultural center in the world.
No wonder that he gets to be everybody's scapegoat. He needs friends.