How nice of Vern to visit us earlier today, a little bit of Cave-come-home. Vern, for those of you just tuning in to our little family, was my predecessor.I'd been living in Koreatown just off Wilshire. It was a great building in a great neighborhood, but one that changed hands several times within a year in such a way it became necessary to find new quarters. I never envisioned moving to the 'burbs, but when I saw this place it clicked. Though Vern was managing The Cave, he was also handling all the paperwork for new tenants, applications and credit checks. Truth is I didn't have a 'proper' job at the time and was worried no one would take me. I stood huddled with four other people also looking to move in. The apartment I wanted was next to Vern's, but there was another girl in front of me who wanted it, too. It had a beautiful old gas stove in it, and I was very moody about the whole thing, certain she didn't care about that stove and also convinced she was wouldn't last long. (She got the apartment and didn't last long.) I tried very hard to be very charming with Vern, hoping it would work on my behalf. Turns out my credit is also the best he claims to have ever seen, so I moved in next door to the apartment I wanted, two doors down from Vern.
Delightful personality or financial responsibility? I came to The Cave through him, somehow getting the gig of sitting down here when he took an occasional day, making me, when he retired, the heir presumptive. Apparently. Truth is, Vern, a poet and song-ster, has always had a soft spot for the starving artists. Today we didn't starve, no, we ate well and in good company. We talked about how decent and generous the customers are here, and they are. We talked about what a great job this is to have, and it is. I have Vern to thank for it all.
(Vern's email: seawolf1930@msn.com )
(Look at that mug!)