The Snowball_ Warren Buffett and the Business of Life - Alice Schroeder [199]
Nonetheless, the Buffetts had for some time lived the life of a well-to-do couple—though not, of course, a life as luxurious as they could have afforded. Susie had even upgraded Warren to a Cadillac like her own, but only the most stripped-down version with no extra features, and after she had called every dealer within miles to get the cheapest deal. People found the contrast between his homespun tastes and his ever-growing fortune refreshing. His genial manner, self-deprecating wit, and air of calm put them at ease. He had shed some of his earlier gracelessness and most of his arrogance along with the more obvious signs of insecurity—though his tolerance for criticism had not increased. He was learning to hide his impatience. He showed great loyalty to longtime friends. People were especially struck by his fundamental honesty.
Those who spent long periods in his presence, however, found the unleashed whirlwind of his energy exhausting. “Insatiable,” they whispered, and sometimes felt a guilty relief when his attention lapsed. He inhaled information and was prone to deluging his friends with mountains of clippings and reading material that he thought would interest them, before realizing with a start that they had fallen months behind his pace. His conversations were less casual than they seemed. They always seemed to have a purpose, however obscure it might be to those on the receiving end. People sometimes realized he was somehow testing them. Buffett vibrated with an inner tension that belied his outwardly casual style.
It was hard to imagine what he was going to do with all that energy and intensity without the partnership. Many of the partners found it hard to imagine what they were going to do without him. Many of them had become his trainbearers and were reluctant to let go. Their reluctance struck an ironic note next to the fate of the other Buffett family business. Concurrent with its centennial, Fred Buffett threw his hands in the air and gave up on the Buffett grocery store. Neither of his sons wanted to take over, and even though it had a half million dollars a year in sales, when he tried to find a buyer, there were no takers. The grinding wheel of capitalism had spoken.
The Buffetts were not socialites and had never thrown a really large party. But with both the store and the partnership closing, they celebrated with a bash one night during the last weekend of September 1969. Nearly two hundred people of all ages and races poured into their house. Businessmen, society matrons, poor adopted “clients” of Susie’s, teenagers, friends who were now rich from the partnership, Susie’s women pals, assorted priests, rabbis, and ministers, and local politicians made their way through a string of flashing lights, past the three-foot Pepsi bottles in the windows. Susie had chosen a New York theme—Stage Door Deli food and decor—and told people to dress in “casual kosher.” They showed up in everything from culottes to cocktail dresses. A half-cut beer barrel burst with chrysanthemums in her favorite color, sunshine yellow. A table was set up like a deli cart, covered with pastrami sandwiches and cheeses and hung with sausages and a real plucked chicken, in keeping with the theme. A piano player next to the beer keg in the sunroom encouraged guests to sing along. The aroma from a popcorn machine outside the racquetball court welcomed guests into an impromptu basement movie theater. The court’s ceiling bobbed with giant helium balloons; films with W. C. Fields, Mae West, and Laurel and Hardy ran all evening long. In the solarium, the elderly Fred Buffett “protected” two bikiniclad models as the guests covered them with body paint.
“I had such a good time that I hate to think it’s over,” Susie said afterward.39
PART FOUR
Susie Sings
34
Candy Harry