When the lights were on I saw all those Donald Trump placards in the expensive balcony box seats, so I know that this crowd knows that Marin County is one of the nation's richest counties.
(For YouTube reflection of this, click here later.)
You Trumpites probably did not know that Mrs. Buck was one of Marin's richest women, because her husband Leonard, who passed in 1953, placed his Belridge Oil Company assets into her Buck Trust.
Recently estimated sometimes at over $1 billion, her Buck Trust stipulated that her money could "only be spent in Marin County."
As the mid-eighties approached, some meddlesome Oakland attorneys raided the "spend-me-only stipulation," maintaining that communities in Oakland and San Francisco had greater financial needs.
White knighted attorneys, from Marin's Frank Lloyd Wright Civic Castle, repelled the assault by stipulating that three major Buck Trust grants would be dedicated to "bettering all of mankind," not just spent on those NIMBY-ISH Marinites.
Now, in my wonderful Jesuit high school, I failed a course titled "Understanding God." To help me grasp this simple concept, I was required to do summer school, where to get closer to passing I memorized the chapters dedicated to "Bettering Mankind."
The Jesuits further enlighten me by sometimes assigning me to JUG (Justice under God), a Jesuit pedagogical acronym amounting to after-school detention camp.
Armed with this Jesuitized camp knowledge on "bettering mankind," I submitted a grant request to the Buck Trust's worldly-wise grant bequeathers to compete for one of those three "benefiting all of mankind" grants.
Our grant proposal contended that some Buck Trust money should be spent on establishing a model training center at Marin's World College West where 50 Peace Corps Volunteers would train alongside 50 Soviets for three months, then serve together for 21 months in a developing country.
Your Soviet roommate and you -- a Donald Trump acolyte -- would be serving and rooming together in the same school, village, work site, etc., where you both could share, debate, and scramble your commie and capitalistic predilections for the betterment of mankind.
Our proposal contended that if the Peace Corps made this an ongoing program and did it with 20, 30, or 100,000 Soviets and Americans, a future cold or hot war between these two giants would evaporate into blue skied memories, friendships, connections and humorously swaggering vodka and beer bouts.
In addition, the developing nations of the world would smile with all the money that could be switched from warfare to development fairs.
This US Soviet Peace Corps proposal made it into a playoff Buck Trust Grant round, but was not chosen as one of the 3 funded Major Proposals.
Not ever having been smart enough to know when to hang up my cleats, I continued running the bases to get "da good, da bad, and da ugly" to serve and do nice things together.
I wrote on more than one occasion to the Soviet Consulate on Green Street in San Francisco. Wrote Congresswoman Boxer. Wrote op-eds and did a couple television public affairs segments. Not much seemed to be happening.