In the 1980s, I was the publicist for Chamber Opera Theater of New York, a much beloved and now sadly departed Manhattan opera company. We had enthusiastic admirers among The New York Times music critics and the sort of New Yorkers whose names appeared in boldface.
My name generally appeared on paycheck stubs. $250 a week. Before tax deductions.
One of our supporters was Mercedes Kellogg, then married to diplomat and socialite Francis Kellogg. She later married billionaire Sid Bass and became Mercedes Bass. Some people change husbands. Others upgrade their bank accounts.
Mrs. Kellogg hosted a fundraising party for the company in her penthouse on either Fifth Avenue or Park Avenue. Memory fails me. I remember that it was an avenue on which my weekly salary might have rented a drawer.
I was always uncomfortable at these events. Publicity was my profession; mingling with people whose cufflinks exceeded my net worth was not my calling.
I had retreated to the sidelines in a den lined with mahogany bookshelves and leatherbound books. It’s possible the books had actually been read, although I saw no reason to leap to conclusions.
Beside me stood a very dignified gentleman, also apparently content to let society proceed without our active participation. We began making small talk. Nothing memorable. Nothing that suggested this conversation would eventually deserve an essay.
Finally, I said, “I’m sorry, we haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m David Mayhew, and I’m the publicist for the opera company.”
“How nice to meet you, Mr. Mayhew,” he replied. “My name is Claus von Bülow.”
Ah.
There are names that require a little context. At that moment, his required none whatsoever. He had recently had his convictions for the attempted murder of his wife, Sunny, overturned. She remained in a coma. He stood beside me in a very nice den.
I’m sure I paused for a beat or two while my brain hastily reviewed the available conversational exits.
“Very nice to meet you,” I said.
And that was all.
I did not say, “How’s the wife?”
I knew how the wife was.
Nor did I offer, “Congratulations on having your convictions overturned.”
There are occasions for congratulations. Graduations. Promotions. A particularly successful soufflé. This seemed to require a category of greeting card Hallmark had wisely declined to develop.
We returned to small talk. What about, I couldn’t possibly tell you. My memory has retained the introduction and shredded the rest.
If you need a refresher, watch Reversal of Fortune, the 1990 film with Jeremy Irons as Claus and Glenn Close as Sunny. Irons was exceedingly well cast. I can vouch for the unnerving dignity.
I have spent much of my life trying to think of the right thing to say.
On this occasion, my greatest achievement was knowing what to leave unsaid.
Pleased to meet you. Allegedly.
Still hopscotching...
These days, I still find myself in handsome homes making small talk with strangers, but now I’m usually there to sell the place. A mahogany-paneled den remains a selling point. Leatherbound books are negotiable. Discretion is standard.
If you’re looking for a Connecticut home—or someone to help sell yours—visit ConnecticutWeekendHomes.com. For local history, hidden corners, and people worth knowing, explore ConnecticutBaedeker.com. And for practical advice without the mahogany veneer, there’s MayhewRealEstateGuide.com.
You needn’t own cufflinks. You just need to call.
David Mayhew, Realtor® | Pearce Real Estate
203.533.5621 | dmayhew@hpearce.com
Mike King, also known as world’s laziest brother-in-law—favourite pastime being partying at rich people’s houses in London— favourite bed being the one in our guest room for 12 years, once met Claus von Bulow and Salman Rushdie on the same evening, he reported back, von Bulow was “ a great guy” and apparently he discussed “life” with Rushdie. The next day he got an invitation to fly off to New York on Pia Zadora’s private jet, and went. Although sadly returned to our guestroom for another four years.
David,
63 years of knowing you.
Since September 1963.
Teacher Mildred.
One of your longer time fans!