Adios primo

Meshugenah, kishkas, bubkus. Oy, oy vey, oy gevalt.

And with this begins a recollection of Jim Plotkin.

He was a friend and acquaintance who was many things in this city. Some referred to him as the Unofficial Mayor of Old Pasadena. Some saw him as a businessman.

I think we saw each other as cultural cousins. We'd giggle and laugh on those occasions when we would bump into each other and would enjoy sharing Yiddish and Chicano slang. We both came from East L.A.: me from the southeastern part and he was from Boyle Heights. Smiles on faces and body language expressed was all about being with family.

Although Jim was 12 years older than me, I suspect the mix of community had changed little when he and I were growing up in East L.A. Maybe I provided a bit of time travel for him. Or he for me. Maybe we both went back to our times in East L.A. when real bagels and real burritos could be found on Beverly Boulevard? Don't know. We never talked about anything so serious. We just laughed from the kishkahs when we were together. That was enough.

I will remember my friend tomorrow while I am at his service. Jim Plotkin, mensch, presente.

Image - Old Pasadena blog, 10/21/09