He also adores his role as Pop-Pop to his two grandsons, the children of hisfourth daughter, Melissa. The family lives just a couple hundred yards from theNewman-Woodward homestead. "We've shrunk the umbilical cord to about400 feet," says Newman. "It's hard with Joanneworking"—he's proud of his wife's great success as theartistic director of the Westport Country Playhouse—"but we arelucky in that we see much more of them than most grandparents."
There it is again, the luck thing. "My health is good, my knees aregood"—he does a couple of deep knee bends to proveit—"and I've got a good lady," Newman says. "So I havenothing to complain about." He pauses, considering whether to amend thisthought. "At my age, I ought to be able to complain aboutsomething."
In January he invited his whole clan and close friends to Westport to markhis 80th birthday at a classical concert by the Emerson String Quartet, whichhe had booked two years in advance. The evening's printed program bore thisquotation: "Happiness is good health and a bad memory." Theafter-party in the Newmans' guesthouse was warm and affectionate, althoughthe self-effacing birthday boy could have lived without the laudatory toasts.Nell chose to celebrate her father's long life by reading this passage fromWalt Whitman:
This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people…and your very flesh shall be a great poem.
Nell smiles. "Sounds like Pop, doesn't it?"
Veteran Hollywood writer Nancy Griffin is West Coast editor for themagazine.