Family Part 5 - My Uncle Phil

Uncle Phil, Mom and Mary K’s oldest brother, was a forever bachelor and a bit quirky.  Add that to his inexperience interacting with young children and I’m afraid that in our younger years we were too distracted to appreciate his finer qualities. 

When we reached college age however, everything changed.  We would meet at his apartment in Chicago for his signature Bloody Marys, beer, a home made gourmet dinner, more beer and opera music.  The evenings would usually end with all of us sitting in his living room with a good buzz on, our eyes closed, listening to opera  music and feeling really really good.  

Once we were off on our own, raising our own families, he would make the rounds around the country to visit with all of his nieces and nephews.  We would get a simple postcard in the mail stating the dates he would be in our city and where he was staying.  He would never stay at the house and was the perfect guest.  He would only stay for three days and would be up for anything that you wanted to do.  No matter what, he had a good time and if you included beer drinking in his visit, it was considered a great time!! If we weren’t available at any given time, he would just make his own plans and entertain himself.   

On one visit we had taken him to the Winchester Mystery House and on the way home decided to cut through San Francisco.  Little did we know that the S&M Festival was in full swing and we soon found ourselves surrounded by men and women in chains and leather, men wearing chaps and nothing else, scantily clad women with spikey hair and sporting whips.  Jon and I exchanged amused looks wondering how Phil would respond.  You know, he never said a word.  He looked with interest and quietly watched the parade of strangeness stroll past but didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow.  

And that’s what I loved about Uncle Phil.  He never seemed to judge.  He just seemed happy to be wherever he was, whomever he was with, doing whatever he was doing — as long as you were on time when you picked him up.   We all had our one experience of being a few minutes late to pick Phil up.  He would get in the car and very calmly say “You’re late.”   And you can bet we were never late again.  

A few years ago when he came to visit Mary K,  I asked him if he wanted to go to a baseball game he said “Well, I haven’t been to one in about 50 years.”  I took that as a yes mostly because as I’ve said, Phil never says no to anything.  So we took him to an Oakland A’s game.  As we were waiting for the game to start the crowd started to do the wave where everyone stands up with their arms in the air and then sits down so that there is a ripple through the stadium.  Phil asked me “What are they doing?”  I explained it to him and he said, “Oh well, I think we should join them.”  So I said “Ok, I’ll tell you when to stand.”  As the wave neared us I said “OK, get ready.”  “Now Phil”  I stood and sat as the wave rolled over us.  I looked to Phil and being as he was about 90 years old at that time he was still heading into the standing position.  We both laughed and in true Phil fashion he didn’t quit trying, we just decided he needed to start a little sooner.  And the next time around we timed it just perfect so that he was standing as the wave passed over him.  He got so much joy out of such a small thing.  

We took him wine tasting once and everyone loved the “cute old man” and as he was such a good conversationalist they would pull out all the stops and bring out their premier and vintage wines for him to taste and by virtue of the fact that we were with him we got to try them also.   

One of the best things I ever did in Uncle Phil’s eyes was marry Pop.   They both had history with the IATSE union, both were in the film industry and both loved beer.  Many many years ago Pop gave Phil a watch with the Industrial Light and Magic logo on its face.  From then on, every time Phil came to visit he wore that watch.  Uncle Phil and I could very easily say everything we had to say to each other in the first half hour of the visit and then Phil and Pop would go to some bar and spend the rest of the day drinking beer and talking about unions and film and I’d see them at the end of the day for dinner. 

Phil was a rather private person and never wanted to bother anyone.  One day, a couple of weeks before he was to visit us I got a letter in the mail from his neighbor.  In the letter was a ticket to the San Francisco opera.  The letter said that Phil asked her to send this ticket to us so that perhaps we could use it since he wouldn’t be able to make the trip out west after all because of his heart surgery.  I immediately called my Mom to see what heart surgery Phil had and ask if he was ok.  She had no idea he had heart surgery, nor did Mary K.  That was how we all found out he had a quadruple bypass. 

A man of few words we would receive a postcard from Phil that said simply “Arrive Monday, Sept 25th, staying at the Hilton, leave Thursday, Sept 28th.”  That was it.  And the notes were always typed on his typewriter.  Pop would often get large manila envelopes in the mail with no note, just a review of one of the movies he had worked on (sometimes a bad review), or the schedule for a film festival that had happened in Chicago.  I often received opera programs.  And every Christmas each person in our household  received their own personal UNICEF Christmas card signed simply “Phil Pfister.”  I was surprised to find in a pile of round robin letters he wrote with his siblings long newsy letters typed by Phil. 

The last time I saw Uncle Phil was at Zach’s wedding.  He traveled out here on his own from Chicago at the age of 92.  When I told him I would pick him up at the airport he declined saying “San Francisco is a very friendly city.  I’m sure I can find someone who will steer me in the right direction to catch the BART.”   At one of the evening dinners that week I watched, chuckling to myself as he entertained you all with his stories and kept up with you on the alcohol front drinking one beer after the other just like the young uns.  

This is what I learned from Uncle Phil: 

Quirky is not necessarily a bad thing. 

Walk, walk, walk and you will be able to walk the rest of your life. 

When all else fails, drink a beer.  

Anything is better with opera music (or a beer).

Do not judge, just appreciate. 

Trust in your fellow human beings. 

Less is more. 

Be open to new experiences. 

Be on time.

Be a perfect guest - only stay three days, stay in a hotel, be open to anything your hosts offer, don’t expect to be entertained 24 hours a day.  

Uncle Phil was amazed that he made it to 90.  Up until the day he died at the age of 95 he was still walking around Chicago, still drinking beer and still entertaining friends with his intellectual conversations about politics, Chicago architecture and the opera.