Last Will and Testament of John Lau

Last Will and Testament of John Lau

Once a Hippie, always a Hippie

It’s significant that San Francisco this year is celebrating it's “Summer of Love”.  And we are here tonight celebrating our love for John Lau and his contributions to Bay Area squash, and his over 30 years dedication to the UClub.  

However, I was misled.  

When I received a message from Craig McAllister that a special event was being organized for John, I assumed the worst.…John had passed away.  I went immediately to my office and pulled his will that I had recently prepared under John’s astute direction, because I knew that Evy, John’s bride, and his daughters, Rebecca and Emily, would want to review it.

Relieved when I got here, it was evident that John is OK. So first, a toast to John’s longevity. 

Here, Here!! 

However, the downside is that I didn’t prepare any real tribute to John….so I thought, ‘what the hell’, I’d just go ahead and read his will.

I, John Lau, being of relatively sound mind and mostly in full control of my mental and physical faculties, declare this to be my sentiments, last will and testament.

Initially, I have two apologies I’d like to make. The first is that I came to the Club under false pretenses.  After my win at the US Nationals at Yale in 1991, when I made my squash “mark”, it was Jack Bickel’s urine that they tested for PED’s. The crown was mine, kinda. 

Second, I’d like to apologize to the UClub, members and staff for not pulling my full load over these last three decades.  Every time when something needed to be done: organizing a tournament, arranging food and beverages, cleaning up after events, assuring laundry was properly completed, preparing racquets, providing lessons, fixing the weight room TV, arranging matches for the club’s elderly players, I’d either go practice my boast shots, or I’d complain about headaches, chest, wrist, back, quad and ankle pains,  and head to the 4^th floor for a cocktail. Well, it may not have been fair …. 

But it was me.   

I had to start documenting a disability retirement claim as soon as I could.  And, honestly, I’m just not cut out for hard work:  I’m a delicate soul…a squash perfectionist, a bicyclist, a lover of fine wines, a philosopher, a schmoozer, a fixer, a greaser of wheels, an opener of doors.

Also, I want noted, that my participation in the club…well...it took up a lot of my time.  Did you think it was fun going to Toronto, New York, Denver, Philadelphia, and Long Island for tournaments, leaving my family, staying in dumpy motels, eating fast food?  I would have much rather been practicing on my home court, lounging at the Giant’s games, playing a round of golf, cycling, cleaning my rackets, spectating at squash tourneys, or giving squash lessons to Busani & Lauren, and the local boy scouts. 

Be that as it may, I want to make things right.  

I am leaving one-fourth of my estate to the UClub Eleemosynary Alcohol Endowment Fund (UCEAEF), on condition that it is mounted in the lobby of the Club athletic facility, and prominently displayed, a life sized tribute of myself making the reverse Philadelphia Boast shot in the Nationals held at Yale in '91, sculpted by Richard Diebenkorn, adorned by a bronzed replica of my old Harrow racket and Salming shoes, with a plaque acknowledging, in 6 point pica type, that Jack Bickel substituted his urine after the match for the PED test.  The statue to be protected by the latest Securitas microwave motion detector, and illuminated 24/7 with 4 non-dulling LED overhead 40 amp spotlights, and fronted by a 3 seat velvet setae.  The statue must be flanked by a looped video, which continuously portrays the best of my squash awards to include the 1992 New York City Tournament of Championships and the British Open.ring my lifetime.  Below the statute, in prominent Aria 35 point script, shall hang an embossed plaque on which is script, “In Memory of ‘The God of Reverse Corner Drop, a native born US citizen of Chinese/Mexican Heritage.” (Hmmm…???)

I’d also like to set the record straight about a few other things too.  I’m sorry I took all that money from UClub’s petty cash and award’s fund.  I didn’t even realize it was wrong.  But all of those schmoosing tournament trips and out of state squash forums became a financial burden.  I even had to pay my own entry fees, and buy my plane tickets, lodging, food, rackets and outfits, if you can believe that!  You’d think Club would have been a little more generous…its got all the money in the world.  But I shouldn’t have purloined the money, and, to make up for it, I leave another one-fourth of my estate to the UClub’s Eleemosynary Alcohol Endowment Fund (CGEEF).

There’s something else I want to get off my chest, now that I’m gone.  

My favorite presidents were Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan and George Bush. And I support the unfairly maligned Donald Trump!  My favorite governor…yes, Arnold Schwarzenegger.  I’m Chinese for Christ sake! I’m a diehard conservative. (Hmmm..??)  It took years off my life, being in the closet like that.  It’s not easy living in Berkeley, having to support immigrants, welfare mothers, gun control, the homeless and pretend I was in favor of abolishing the death penalty all the time,.  To help make amends, I posthumously resign my membership in the NAACP, and ask that a Fox cable connection be funded in perpetuity. I direct my executor to sell all of my squash racquets, my racquet stringing machine, my squash shoes, balls, and awards, and I leave the sales proceeds, and one-fourth of my estate, to the NRA.

Now, for the serious stuff….

Just because I mingled with UClub members, who were a bunch of drunken, loud mouthed, sexist jerks doesn’t mean I was one.  Hell, I hardly ever laughed at their jokes.  But I acknowledge I do have a number of pals who I think, for the most part, led dissolute lives, and I feel some responsibility for that, not having taken the time to straighten them out while I was alive, may God forgive me.  

So, to these buddies, and you know who you are, ….. not you Sam McCullagh, nor Kris Surano, or Jack Bickel, or Mike Townsend, or Dick Crawford, I instruct my executor to pay up to 25% of my estate for an all expense paid trip to Dubai for the Squash World Championships, new Harrow rackets, Salming shoes and a dozen 2-dot Dunlop balls.  After that, a week at the Mardi Gras in New Orleans.  Boys, spend the time to reflect on your ways.  Repent before it’s too late.

I also leave another 25% of my estate to Busani to carry on my good work and, as an executor’s commission, a 25% fee to Sam McCullagh, who I have attempted to lead politically astray on numerous occasions. Additionally, I leave to Al Knoll a 25% attorney fee because I know it will be expensive for him to fly to Dubai and New Orleans to make the above described arrangements.

My two daughters, Rebecca and Emily.  Good girls, but could they have been better daughters?  Yes!  Rebecca, attending UC Davis didn’t even consider CAL,  and Emily, despite her college degree, doesn’t speak a word of Chinese.  Neither has she learned to sing any Chinese or Mexican  ballads.  And Rebecca, even though she is a big shot academic, still can’t play squash, hit a golf ball or string a squash racquet.  But the fact of the matter is, I’d always wanted sons.  Someone to take to ball games and cheer at tournaments,  Regardless, to my daughters, I leave one-fourth of my estate, share and share alike.  I direct them to use their shares to run daily spots ads in my name supporting the NRA.

Now to wife, Evy, you are the love of my life.  With me through thick and thin, richer and poorer, better and worse, without you I would have been nothing.  A nobody.  Just another worthless slob like most of the UClub guys.

To you, Evy, I leave all that is important to me.  Sunshine sparkling across a mountain meadow.  A sunset over the Golden Gate.  Waves lapping on the shore.  A rainbow after a sudden spring shower.

Sure, Evy, I could have left you money.  I promised half to you after all, until I had Al draw up the papers.  I decided I wouldn’t do that to you.  I love you too much.  I wanted you to be your own person.  To give you space.  Room to discover your true self.  To find the inner you.  I want to set you free.  So, I leave you my love, and best wishes for your future endeavors.  Not because you don’t deserve more, but money would only be in the way. 

Not that you didn’t have your shortcomings, Evy.  Did YOU learn any Chinese songs?  Did you learn my mother’s dim sum recipes?  No, you didn’t.  Did you become a Buddhist, like I asked?  No you didn’t.  Did you let me buy a convertible?  No, you didn’t.  I mean, hey, Evy, it’s too late now.  If you need money, keep working.

I subscribe my name to this instrument, the devoted father of Rebecca and Emily,  the loving husband of Evy.

Signed:  /s/  John Lau