Xavier was so extremely handsome, funny and generously simple. He gave of anything he might have, be it money, advice, time and good intentions. He was always a welcome presence. Xavier had a sense of fairness and truth which he demanded we acknowledge...and there is where it began. That is how the story started.
His friend, co worker and reputed 'boss' was Dave, another inhabitant of the peninsula motor home court at Newport Beach, Lido Peninsula. Dave - a mere ordinary occupant like most of us - pretended to be a partner/owner of a business where he worked with Xavier. Little did I care, nor did I know, that he was not an owner, merely another serf. But it became an aim, a goal for Xavier to prove Dave's unworthiness to us all. and the game was on!
Dave was in pursuit mode, the animal on the hunt, Woden of the Anglo-Saxons - thus his mask was at the ready. Dave was now sole owner and captain of his mighty sail boat, a nice classic wood boat, and he was a business man....fake fake fake fake. Not that I cared...and not that I knew.
And so it was that we became a small crew involved in one of those great boat races down the Pacific from our bay area to some place much farther south. You see, I never cared about the destination or the plan...(we have a plan?) as it was always the voyage that mattered to me. This voyage started well prepared with liquids, foods, instructions and proper dress code....(all hands below decks, remove dress...). Somehow during the first 8 hours of light we took fast to the waves and rapidly cruised southward like a bunch of true but drunken sailors, and somewhere in the darkness someone forgot to come back up from below decks and check auto pilot.
Dave having proven himself not the most capable captain, and about a hundred miles off course, shrugged and partied us off in the direction of Catalina Island, nothing lost - simply altered. By the time we arrived, Xavier was clearly showing some wear from the captain, not from our travels...and his plan got underway....his plan to reveal Dave for the fake that he was.
First it would be a wise idea to ply Captain Dave with enough Captain Morgan to convince him that he was having the best of times...and tomorrow he would never know for sure. It worked. Captain Dave assumed we had in fact become bosom buddies when in fact, Xavier and I had remained well watered and watched the sinking of Captain Bly. and soon we would gracefully pull into our slip anchorage at the end of the hot salt water trail and watch the rest of Xavier's plan surface like glass.
I showed up at 'Dave's Business' unannounced on Monday and carrying Xavier's business card. What a nice surprise to find Xavier at the helm, and Dave more or less shining the boss's boots.... A celebration to follow was in order at the Sheraton in Newport Beach, somewhere on the 3rd or 4th floor, a band, dancing, champagne and "Caviar with Xavier" as it would now be known.
I remember the two of us like a photo: My hair was long curly and auburn, under a wide brim black woven straw hat with a large burgundy rose. The dress was one of those simple black Audrey Hepburn things, above the knee, and high heels like Carole Lombard out of a 1930s film. But Xavier, the emboldened Brazilian with the boyish naivete juxtaposed counterpoint to his suave Clark Gable confidence brought a spark to the spot light we made that night, with his tight white dress shirt, under a black fitted vest, the fitted black slacks, the Argentine leather shoes, a show of beard returning from the last shave ...
We were simply innocent friends, culprits joined like siblings, looking great and constantly creating havoc and chaos just for the moment. Xavier's laughter always caught us both and wrapped us in the joy of winning. The winning not of a race, but of life. One day and one jubilant night after night after night for as long as we pulled pranks back in the days of wine and roses.
