JUDGING THE ‘90s -- judge gardner

In looking back at the last decade, two figures stand out as the major

personalities of the 1990s -- Sid Soffer and Donald Bren. One I know, one

I don’t.

I know Sid Soffer. Man, do I know Sid Soffer.

As the whole area knows, Sid Soffer lives in Las Vegas to avoid going to

jail in Orange County. And, for some reason, I have become Sid’s

telephone buddy. Every time I write something in my column with which Sid

does not agree, he calls me and tells me in great detail how I blew that

column.

Since I write a column a week, I get a call a week from Sid. And what a

call.

Sid’s phone bill must equal the national debt. Once he has castigated me

for blowing my column he slips off into other subjects. Sid is a very

smart man; he knows a lot about a lot of things and loves to discourse on

any of them. However, he has one glaring difficulty. He doesn’t know when

to stop talking.

Once upon a time Newport Beach had two official hair shirts, Sid Soffer

and Blackie Gadarian. Blackie had a boat works. Sid had the Blue Beet.

Almost every City Council meeting saw one or both of them giving the City

Council hell about something.

Sid, I know you are going to read this, and it hurts to tell you, but

Blackie was more effective than you for one reason and one reason only.

He knew how to make a point and quit. You don’t. You just keep talking.

Blackie finally got tired of giving our City Council hell, sold his boat

yard, moved to Maui, where he bought another boat yard, plus a saloon,

and continued his program of giving city councils hell, this time the

Maui City Council. I know. When I was in American Samoa I met the mayor

of Maui and said I knew Blackie Gadarian. If I had hit him with an

electric cattle prod I could not have generated a more violent response.

Sid closed the Blue Beet and moved to Costa Mesa and began to give the

Costa Mesa officials fits, which finally resulted in Sid’s moving to Las

Vegas, from where he calls me and talks and talks and talks.

I do not know Don Bren, and he has never called me on the phone. However,

I do know who he is, and every time I travel through that vast

development he is putting together between Newport Beach and Laguna I

remember something John Curci once told me.

I don’t think John Curci is a billionaire, but he is pretty well-heeled.

Once, he put together a huge shopping center in San Bernardino. After

doing so he told me that one night he woke up and just happened to run

through in his mind how much money he owed on that huge shopping center.

It came to about $5,000 a minute. John was so shocked that the next

morning he began to divest himself of some of his indebtedness.

And so every time I go through Don Bren’s huge development, I wonder if

perchance he ever awakens, adds up his indebtedness and shivers. If so, I

suggest he take a leaf from Sid: move to Las Vegas, get on the phone,

call all his creditors, and carry on interminable conversations with them

until they agree to knock off a percentage of the debt just to get him

off the phone.

* JUDGE GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and former judge. His

regular column runs Tuesdays.