Aloha, que tal, adios

SHERWOOD KIRALY

One of the most popular general propositions is the one beginning,

“There are two kinds of people.”

It can be finished lots of ways: Takers and givers; early risers

and late risers; those who like Donald Trump and those -- well, who

doesn’t like Donald Trump?

The English writer Max Beerbohm chose “hosts and guests” as his

two kinds, and that’s the distinction that resonates in my mind as I

look ahead to summer.

I know I’m a poor guest, because I’m far more comfortable in my

own home than anyone else’s. I haven’t stayed overnight at any

friend’s house for years, and the idea makes me fibrillate. So that

makes me a host. Kind of.

There is a third category, of course. Just as Sergio Leone told us

there were the good, the bad, and the ugly, I would say there are

hosts and guests and hermits, and I lean closer to this third group

than to any other.

But in the summer, Lagunans all become hosts, since our town

attracts visitors from everywhere. So it’s time to review our

hospitality skills, which may have rusted over the winter, as we

prepare for tourists, relatives, old friends and freeloaders.

Tourists are easy. You only meet with them downtown. They’re just

like us, only paler; I recommend a nod and a smile. Saying “Hi” is

acceptable.

“Why don’t you go back where you came from?” is considered chilly.

People who come to your home require more attention. In his essay

on the subject, Beerbohm laid down a negative standard: “To mankind

in general Macbeth and Lady Macbeth stand out as the supreme type of

all that a host and hostess should not be.” I’ve never forgotten this

cautionary note, and you’ll find no bloody daggers at Kiraly Manor.

If you’re like me, when folks come over you may want to leave most

of the hosting chores to your spouse, who truly has the hospitality

gene. Best for you to keep moving from room to room. See if anyone

needs a Diet Pepsi. Make sure the ballgame’s on somewhere.

If cornered, it won’t kill you to talk; in fact you may find that

once warmed up, you can’t stop. I start with what I’ve been doing

lately and move on to current events. At this point my guests will

usually express an interest in seeing the beach. When I offer to set

them loose downtown to explore, most of them jump at the chance. Like

all good hosts, I miss them once they’re gone.

There are two kinds of guests: those who come back and those who

don’t. And we do want them back, most of them. Someday. So this

summer, when you see the

crowds downtown, remember they’re the lifeblood of the town.

Remember the great hosts of history. Remember Father Flanagan, the

Statue of Liberty and Laguna’s own Greeter. Forget Macbeth.