The 123-room Spelling Manor. It could take weeks to even find a way out. Courtesy photo.
Today is Day 45, one of my least favorite numbers, in isolation. I’m pretty used to it by now. Every day is just another hashmark on the living room wall, though it still remains unclear what I’m counting toward. What’s the number when I’m eligible for parole? News that trickles down to my cell includes phrases like “weeks, not months,” and I’ve heard the term “May 15” a few times, as well as “June 1.” So, if it’s the former, Day 61 is Freedom Day; if it’s the latter, it’ll be Day 78. If that’s the case, I might as well stay home til Day 100 or, for that matter, the real July 4 Independence Day — Day 111.
There are some people who don’t mind the stay-at-home edict. Introverts are cozy as can be with it, no longer having to make up “I’ve gotta move a couch” excuses to dodge social gatherings.
Give me a book featuring a foul-mouthed P.I., a jar of gin, a pizza delivery and a pair of dogs and then get lost. I’m fine.
Agoraphobics, too, I suspect might be absolutely fine with the lockdown. Finally, an edict that is tailor-made for their phobia. Their neighbors won’t even notice the incessant Instacart, Amazon and Grubhub deliveries.
You know who else doesn’t mind the lockdown order? Apoorva Mehta, CEO of Instacart; Jeff Bezos, the CEO of Amazon; and Matt Maloney, the CEO of Grubhub. Eric Yuan, the CEO of Zoom Video Communications doesn’t mind, either. They can’t get out of their houses even if they wanted to, because there’s a mountain of money blocking their path to freedom.
There are stock portfolios now built on nothing but stay-home-friendly stocks. I, predictably, don’t own any. You don’t get to my position in life by making savvy financial moves.
Cloistered monks and nuns? They’re cool with it. They’ve been doing it for years at a much more disciplined and contemplative manner than most of us who are complaining about not being able to go to the beach, whereas you don’t hear a peep from those Carmelites and others who have taken vows of silence.
The exceedingly wealthy, besides those CEOs I mentioned above, may or may not even bother to comply with the order to stay safely at home. They may fly to their ranches in Montana and Wyoming miles away from anyone, never mind people potentially infected with COVID.
Or if they do wish to stay in town and comply with the order, they can always kill some days and weeks exploring their own custom-built home-prisons.
I’m thinking of the anonymous buyer of the Spelling Manor in Holmby Hills, who bought the place from Petra Ecclestone, the daughter of Formula One kingpin Bernie Ecclestone (she bought it in 2011 from the Spellings for $85 million in cash when she was 22), and the anonymous buyer purchased it from her in 2019 for $119.7 million.
The 56,500-square-foot home has 123 rooms, a bowling alley, a tennis court, parking for 100 vehicles and a pool. Thirty of the 123 rooms are bathrooms. That’s a solid month’s worth of bathrooms.
The house also has an intermediate floor between the first and second levels that is nothing but closets and toilet-paper storage bins. I bet if they stay-at-home order ended today, it would be another two weeks before Mr./Mrs. Anonymous could figure out which door leads to the outside world.
But, of course, almost everyone else minds not having the freedom to go to the beach, or to work, or to party and go to the movies and, most of all, it seems, golf. I knew golf was pretty popular, though it’s slowed some in recent years, but some of the loudest complaints against staying at home, is regarding the closure of golf courses from rich white guys who, when I, as a reporter, need to talk to one, he’s invariably on the golf course. It’s where deals are done, I guess, and my adult-onset aversion to the game, acquired after dozens of rounds of embarrassing myself, explains why I’ve never closed a big deal or, for that matter, broken double-bogie par.
At any rate, it appears that we might’ve reached at least the halfway point, unless we go through June, but I think the beginning of the end might come by then. Don’t underestimate the political power in the hands of people who enjoy golf perhaps a bit too much.
Tim Grobaty is a columnist and the Opinions Editor for the Long Beach Post. You can reach him at 562-714-2116, email [email protected], @grobaty on Twitter and Grobaty on Facebook.
Quarantine Chronicles Day 45: Some people can handle staying at home better than others
Today is Day 45, one of my least favorite numbers, in isolation. I’m pretty used to it by now. Every day is just another hashmark on the living room wall, though it still remains unclear what I’m counting toward. What’s the number when I’m eligible for parole? News that trickles down to my cell includes phrases like “weeks, not months,” and I’ve heard the term “May 15” a few times, as well as “June 1.” So, if it’s the former, Day 61 is Freedom Day; if it’s the latter, it’ll be Day 78. If that’s the case, I might as well stay home til Day 100 or, for that matter, the real July 4 Independence Day — Day 111.
There are some people who don’t mind the stay-at-home edict. Introverts are cozy as can be with it, no longer having to make up “I’ve gotta move a couch” excuses to dodge social gatherings.
Give me a book featuring a foul-mouthed P.I., a jar of gin, a pizza delivery and a pair of dogs and then get lost. I’m fine.
Agoraphobics, too, I suspect might be absolutely fine with the lockdown. Finally, an edict that is tailor-made for their phobia. Their neighbors won’t even notice the incessant Instacart, Amazon and Grubhub deliveries.
You know who else doesn’t mind the lockdown order? Apoorva Mehta, CEO of Instacart; Jeff Bezos, the CEO of Amazon; and Matt Maloney, the CEO of Grubhub. Eric Yuan, the CEO of Zoom Video Communications doesn’t mind, either. They can’t get out of their houses even if they wanted to, because there’s a mountain of money blocking their path to freedom.
There are stock portfolios now built on nothing but stay-home-friendly stocks. I, predictably, don’t own any. You don’t get to my position in life by making savvy financial moves.
Cloistered monks and nuns? They’re cool with it. They’ve been doing it for years at a much more disciplined and contemplative manner than most of us who are complaining about not being able to go to the beach, whereas you don’t hear a peep from those Carmelites and others who have taken vows of silence.
The exceedingly wealthy, besides those CEOs I mentioned above, may or may not even bother to comply with the order to stay safely at home. They may fly to their ranches in Montana and Wyoming miles away from anyone, never mind people potentially infected with COVID.
Or if they do wish to stay in town and comply with the order, they can always kill some days and weeks exploring their own custom-built home-prisons.
I’m thinking of the anonymous buyer of the Spelling Manor in Holmby Hills, who bought the place from Petra Ecclestone, the daughter of Formula One kingpin Bernie Ecclestone (she bought it in 2011 from the Spellings for $85 million in cash when she was 22), and the anonymous buyer purchased it from her in 2019 for $119.7 million.
The 56,500-square-foot home has 123 rooms, a bowling alley, a tennis court, parking for 100 vehicles and a pool. Thirty of the 123 rooms are bathrooms. That’s a solid month’s worth of bathrooms.
The house also has an intermediate floor between the first and second levels that is nothing but closets and toilet-paper storage bins. I bet if they stay-at-home order ended today, it would be another two weeks before Mr./Mrs. Anonymous could figure out which door leads to the outside world.
But, of course, almost everyone else minds not having the freedom to go to the beach, or to work, or to party and go to the movies and, most of all, it seems, golf. I knew golf was pretty popular, though it’s slowed some in recent years, but some of the loudest complaints against staying at home, is regarding the closure of golf courses from rich white guys who, when I, as a reporter, need to talk to one, he’s invariably on the golf course. It’s where deals are done, I guess, and my adult-onset aversion to the game, acquired after dozens of rounds of embarrassing myself, explains why I’ve never closed a big deal or, for that matter, broken double-bogie par.
At any rate, it appears that we might’ve reached at least the halfway point, unless we go through June, but I think the beginning of the end might come by then. Don’t underestimate the political power in the hands of people who enjoy golf perhaps a bit too much.
Tim Grobaty
Tim Grobaty is a columnist and the Opinions Editor for the Long Beach Post. You can reach him at 562-714-2116, email [email protected], @grobaty on Twitter and Grobaty on Facebook.
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