Thank you, Gerald Cohen, and May You Rest in Peace.

 Gerald Cohen made it possible for me to move to New York.  I am eternally grateful.  

Gerry was the co-founder and CEO of Information Builders.  He gave me a job as a marketing writer, paid for me to move to New York City, and put me up in the company’s apartment at 34th Street and 1st Avenue.  Other people paved the way for me to make the big leap, but it was Gerry who made it real.  And welcoming.  But not easy.  I had to work for it, and there were obstacles, but I had a good salary, work that suited me, and friendly colleagues.  I met my future husband the first day on the job.

I had only been to the city twice before, three times if you count the time I flew through JFK to Tel Aviv.  I didn’t know anyone there.  I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going, but I was ready, and on July 3, 1998, I packed up a month’s worth of clothes and my cat Brownie, rented a car, and drove in a heatwave from St. Louis to my new home high in the sky on the 21st floor of the Rivergate apartments on the East River.  On July 6, I walked into the offices on the 27th floor of 2 Penn Plaza, and I had arrived.

The fact that Information Builders--Gerry--hired me at all has always amazed me, and it amazes me even more now than it did then.  I had a Ph.D. in English and 2 years’ experience in corporate writing, and had written letters to Gerry and other leaders in the company explaining that I wanted them to hire me full-time and move me to New York.  Surprisingly, they did.

Ever since I heard of Gerry’s death, I’ve been wondering why, and I think part of the reason was that what was a big salary to me was nothing to him, and he could afford to give me a shot.  I clearly wanted the job and was enthusiastic and skilled, so why not?  But I also think that Gerry liked people, not just me, but people who put themselves out there.  Plus his company was growing and at an inflection point, and I brought an outside perspective and had a lot of energy.  Mostly, though, it was just Gerry being Gerry. He was brilliant, funny, unpredictable, unconventional, and unique. Idiosyncratic.  Stubborn.  He had his own way of doing things, and would let others play around the edges, but kept his stamp on everything.  I’ve come to appreciate those qualities more over time.  He was both creative and practical and loved the software, the company, the people who worked there, and the customers and what they did with the software. 

Gerry and his partners built a company that was a family.  I worked there from July 1998 to October 2002, and I still feel like I work there--in the way that you can move far away from your family, but they are always family.

My favorite memory of him was going to see Rocky Horror Picture Show on Broadway with Terry Cosentino from ibi and Gerry and his wife Pam, and watching the looks of delight on their faces.  Working at ibi was fun, and the fun started at the top.

Thank you, Gerry, for opening New York City to me, for creating a company like Information Builders, and for all you have done for so many people.  Your legacy continues in all of us.  

https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/nytimes/obituary.aspx?n=gerald-cohen&pid=197257686

https://www.ibi.com/blog/frank-vella/gerald-d-cohen-1935-2020/

Nobiya's Story

On February 19, 2011, Jordane, who worked with City Critters in New York City,

brought Nobiya to the home I shared with Wayne Mareci in midtown Manhattan.
We were going to foster him, not adopt him.

Jordane said he was the sweetest cat in the world. He had been living with a Korean family

who had to go back to Korea and couldn't take him. He was currently living at a vet's office,

because he might have some urinary issues and they had been watching him and assured
her he was healthy and fine, just needed a special diet. They guessed he was about
4 years old.

She dropped him off while I was out, and when I came home about an hour later,
she and Wayne were sitting on the floor talking with Nobiya right beside them,
apparently listening to every word.

Nobiya immediately got up and greeted me at the door and started purring and
rubbing up against me. I squatted down and started petting him, ears, head, chin,
back, feet--ouch! razor sharp claws--let's fix that--and within 5 minutes of meeting
each other for the first time, he let me trim his claws. Snip, snip, just like that,
they're done, no struggle, like he was offering them up to me.
 

I announced, “I’m keeping him.  Not fostering.  Adopting.”

I googled his name “Nobiya” and found that there was a Japanese manga
character with a similar name, and a Japanese artist by the name, and that it
also meant “sweetheart.” I figured the Korean family had children who loved
manga and named him after a cartoon character they liked, and that image
pleased me.  When I arrived in California and said his name, people laughed. 
It turns out there’s a Spanish and Tagalog version of his name that
means “girlfriend.”  Either way, he’s a sweetheart. 

In Manhattan, he lived on the 15th floor in a sunny apartment with lots of windows.

He was a happy indoor cat.

When I moved to California, the airlines required that he be on a leash inside a carrier.
I lived in California for 3 months without him, and during that time, Wayne taught him to
accept the leash and carrier. He took to it right away.

For the flight to California, all I gave him was a homeopathic remedy called Animal
Rescue that I had discovered during the previous foster fail. No sedatives. The trip
turned out to take 10 hours, with long delays, but he was quiet the whole way. He
made 2 little peeps at one point during the flight, and he didn't want to eat anything,
and his eyes were wide open the whole time, but he was taking it all in.

We arrived late at night.  The next morning I thought, “I should show him where he lives

now, let him smell the air, the ground, the plants, let him get his bearings.  He seems
okay on his leash.  Let’s try it!”

I put his leash on with ease, and opened the door, and he trotted down the hall like
it was the most natural thing in the world.  I opened the hall door to the outside stairs,
and off he went.

I thought it would be a one-time experience, but the next day, he was at the door
meowing, and it became our morning ritual.

After about a year, he had to have some teeth removed, and the vet told me I
should brush his teeth.  

I decided the only way I could make myself do it was to make it part of our ritual. 
Brush my teeth, brush his teeth, put on his leash, and out we go.  He accepted it.

Some mornings, he even jumped up on the bathroom counter, watched me brush
my teeth, and waited for me to brush his.  He would curl his lip up on the right side,
and let me brush, then move to the left.  He was never as good with the left side,
and resisted a bit, but still let me brush.

Then he would go into the entryway, jump up on the bench and wait for me to put
his leash on.

Over the years, we’ve varied the routine a bit depending on circumstances, but it’s
been essentially the same for 7 years, and we’ve only missed a few days.


I call him "King Nobi." He seems to have accepted that the tooth-brushing and walking
is what I do as his loyal servant, in addition, of course, to the chores ordinary cats have
their people do (feeding and litter box maintenance).

He is a wonderful companion, and we have had many happy adventures together. 

Sightings at the Edge of the Universe: Rainbows and Snails for 2020

I ventured out onto the cliffs of Del Mar this morning after another night of rain.   The sky was full of clouds, rain in the distance, spots of blue, and a quiet, wet hush all around.  The ground was soft and moist.  The cliffs were covered with the lush green vegetation that only comes with rain.  Tall green stalks with what look like geranium leaves that grow higher than my head.  Bush after bush of bright purple flowers in tight clusters--the kinds I used to only see in flower arrangements as filler, but now see covering the cliffs year-round, drying up and becoming pale in the summer and coming back to life in the winter and spring.  Long, thick swaths of  tall bright yellow flowers that look like some kind of daisy with white buttons in the center.  And white ones with yellow buttons.  Ah, spring!

Then I saw the rainbow--or part of it.  It  was a thick and vibrant pillar of fluorescent pinks, yellows, greens, and blues, out over the western edge of the ocean and leaning at an angle toward the north, ending in the rain clouds.  I walked toward it, watching it fade, then brighten, back and forth, depending on the angle.

And then I saw another one:  a pale, pale, barely discernible pillar over the northern edge of the ocean towards the coast and pointing west, as if  the two pillars were falling into one another, but not quite at the correct angle for them to meet.  One far out to the west over the ocean, the other closer to the northern shore.

They were facing one another.  The red edges of each column facing the center, and fading into purple, pink, yellow, green, blue, and indigo on the outer edges.

Maybe at other points along the coast they would actually look like one column, and maybe at others form an arc.  Who knows what a different perspective would show?

As I continued each column brightened, grew, and faded, until I could only see them because I knew they were there.

In the center of the trail, a big fat snail sprawled out horizontally across the mid-line.  Usually snails stay to the periphery, but here it was front and center.  A rather dangerous place to be, but fortunately I saw it and stepped right over and went on my way, and I hope the snail did too.

Returning home, I walked past a small palm, fronds bobbing in the breeze, and there was a snail at head level riding on the frond, bouncing up and down, having a ride.

Happy Monday!  May we all soak up the light, gain perspective, take our time, sprawl as necessary, and ride with ease in the breeze.