“I’m a Man Who Likes Talking to a Man Who Likes to Talk” -Sidney Greenstreet, Maltese Falcon

By James Banakis

April 25th, 2025

“I’m a Man Who Likes Talking to a Man Who Likes to Talk”

-Sidney Greenstreet, Maltese Falcon

In the final scene of “The Godfather,” Kay hears the door to Michael’s office close as she attempts to enter. She effectively is shut out of that aspect of his life as he eliminates his enemies and consolidates power. That’s how the film ended with me wanting to be in that room. So many times, we might have wished that we could have a summons to discussions we were not invited to. I know I have always wanted to be where the conversation was taking place. It’s always been one of my favorite pleasures, as I always enjoy good natured arguments, gossip, and old stories.

As a child, whenever we had company, my father would gather the men, and they would enter a room shut the door and talk. I always tried to get included. My father patiently said when I was older, I could join the group. This only fed my imagination as to what I was missing. I invented them discussing hidden treasures, surprise vacations for the family, maybe outings to the ballpark. Topics kids might discuss. After about an hour they would open the door and join the women and kids. I imagined the men to have a collection of exciting secrets.

The women were never that clandestine. They gathered and talked away oblivious to what kids might be listening to.  One year I was home from school on Christmas break. As the men headed to the inner sanctum, my father motioned to me and said, “join us.”  I guess I became a man. I realized almost immediately that I hadn’t missed anything all these many years. As soon as the door closed my father complained that his feet were always bothering him. My Uncle Gus suggested he go to Dr. Demeur the podiatrist.  Then they discussed who had the best mechanic. Finally, a discussion/argument on what were the best streets to the airport. In short, I couldn’t wait to escape and join my friends. Later in the week I confessed to my father that I found the conversation dull. He was shocked. He went on to tell me that that’s how men share useful information. I was unimpressed. At that point in my life, I expected a heated political discussion or bawdy stories. In short, the discussions I was having in college at the time. Think back. These were some of the best discussions most of us can remember. Many lasted into the early morning hours, or anytime in the student union.

It was about this time that my brother Chris became an intern for the Irv Kupcinet Saturday night TV show. The program began at 10:30pm and was broadcast live. Kup would have 5 or 6 guests sitting around a coffee table and have a free-range conversation. The panel members might include entertainers appearing on Rush Street, political figures, authors, and media and sports figures. Others have tried to replicate this show, but this was unique.

Everyone had a Kup coffee cup that had anything but coffee in them. The viewer was able to feel as if they were a member of the discussion. Chris, who at the point in his life was attempting to enter show business himself, escorted the guests from the green room and engaged in small talk. He would come home with wonderful backstage stories. Jimmy Durante was funny and kindly, like our grandfather. Danny Thomas and Kup got into a shouting match before airtime and the producers had to calm everyone down. Barbara Walters was a prima donna but very professional. Hugh Heffner was mysterious and weird. The whole atmosphere was very “Mad Men” lots of smoking and drinking. Just watching I felt involved.

Enter Dr. Mary Kamberos the eminent pediatrician.  Mary was my daughter’s godmother and one of the most consequential figures in my life. Think of her as Auntie Mame in the movie starring Roslyn Russell. She became a widow at about 60, and dedicated the rest of her life to philanthropy, and parties. She was the quintessential hostess. Her dinner parties were epic.

The guests always varied with opera singers, church hierarchy, and always a delightful mixture of entertaining oddballs. Bless her soul, she always included my wife and I on her guest lists. Of all the many things she taught and modeled for me was her insistence on a civilized cocktail hour with her guests. I’ve never been much of a drinker, but it taught me the importance of relaxed conversation as a compliment to dining. It made me a better host, while introducing me to some of the most stimulating dinner companions in my memory.

Mary was fond of Grey Goose up with blue cheese olives. As she got older, I’d sit beside her and lovingly and covertly add ice cubes to her glass. Any occasion was an excuse for a party. Every fall she had a themed yard costume party. She was fearless, funny, naughty, and direct with everyone. I almost forgot, she was an inspired cook. She brought out the best in everyone. I miss her.

On turning 70, Sean Connery said, “life is wonderful, but the 3rd act is not so hot.” So true Mr. Bond. One of the reasons I opened breakfast restaurants was that I realized “Boomers” of which I was a lodge member were aging and getting together at breakfast and lunch instead of dinner. Always look for a hole in the market.

Now as a recent retiree I spend many enjoyable hours with varied groups of friends in conversation over breakfast or lunch, and on rare occasions, dinner. Let me give you a composite of what these discussions are like.

There are usually 6-9 of us around the table. We almost always start with some type of physical issue one of us is experiencing. We have a retired cardiologist who answers questions and dispenses medical advice. That turns into talking about who died recently. Since there are always former restauranters, who’s doing well and who isn’t is always a popular topic. We have an attorney who always advises us on what he deems legal and illegal. The attorney, as all attorneys always do, challenges almost everything that comes up arguing the opposite instinctively. We have a TV producer who always announces he has a groundbreaking secret and then refuses to say what it is. This guy comes and leaves mysteriously, taking his secrets with him. For added entertainment, we have a standup comic with perfect timing, and a treasure trough of stories that morph into jokes.

We all enjoy commenting on food, but we have one guy who always can identify the hidden spice. By far the most popular topic in all these groups is reminiscing about life before we started families. We have one guy who makes the reservations and figures out the check.

Even though this third act is not as stimulating as the first two, life is wonderful, and it’s comforting to know that we can always share it with our fellow travelers. Finally, I’ve come to realize that my conversations now are the same as those my father had with his buddies. I ones I used to label boring. Which just proves everything in life has happened before, and it’ll happen again. What could be more comforting than that?

-30-

Jimmy Banakis is a life-long restaurateur.  He was an honorary batboy for the White Sox in 1964. He attended Oak Park River Forest High School, Nebraska Wesleyan University, and Chicago-Kent Law School.  He claims the kitchen is the room he’s most comfortable in anywhere in the world. He published an extremely limited-edition family cookbook. He’s a father and grandfather, and lives in Downers Grove Il.

Comments 34

  1. Careful Jimmy, they just had violent robbery in your town. Anyhow, thank you for your words and memories, and in the last act, it is all we have….I have more doctors than friends. Way off topic but I cannot find any meaningful discussions or answers as to why the local felony fraudsters that were on the government payroll are not being criminally prosecuted, either at local, county, state or federal levels for their PPE schemes. Thanks for your service and column.

  2. I appreciate the way you described the mystery behind the closed door of the men’s conversations. And , the let down after finding out what they really discussed.

    Thanks, Jimmy

  3. A good laugh, a nice sigh, and enormous wry guy Sidney Greenstreet in one JKN dish! I’d enjoy a seat at that table of six – nine guys, including one so talented at food and language.

    How many others recall a youth in which every old guy seemed to keep complaining about his bursitis aggravating his arthritis? Then soon enough you’re an old guy complaining about the hopeless White Sox situation aggravating the hopeless Chicago situation.

    Oh well, there are still rewards in skillfully commenting about it all, so thanks, Jimmy.

    1. “…soon enough you’re an old guy complaining about the hopeless White Sox situation aggravating the hopeless Chicago situation.”
      I don’t know about that, but I do distinctly remember the ’67 riots in Detroit (I lived about 10 miles from where the riots began), and that it took the Tigers’ ’68 pennant chase and eventual World Series title to settle things down a bit. Didn’t really solve much in the long run, but it helped prevent the all-out race war that a lot of people back then were fearing.

    3. The art of saying little but saying it entertainingly is a difficult one, Jimmy does it so well, I’d love to be sitting at a table with him, John Kass, and a nice bottle of wine.

  5. Thanks Jimmy! Brings back many great memories of being with the “boys”.
    I remember when we would talk about beautiful women, fast cars and sports. Those conversations turned into how many times we had to get up and use the bathroom in the middle of the night and other related issues. I fondly remember our fishing trips, golf outings, poker games and just meeting at a bar. The conversations and ball-busting were hilarious. That turned into who’s having surgery, pictures of the grandkids, graduations, weddings and funerals.
    I was the youngest in the group and now all of my fishing buddies and most of my golfing buddies are gone. I have another group of friends from church now but the conversations after mass are not quite the same.

  6. Breakfast meetings indeed.
    The day before a recent airline employee reunion I was contacted and invited to attend. I hadn’t seen these people in 45+ years. I was informed the 30-40 retirees get together at 9 and break up around 11. Shocked, I shrieked, “9 o’clock!” Quickly they calmed me by responding, “No, 9 am.”

  7. Several of us now older guys who were all Andy Frain Chiefs in HS back in the day of the Beatles Beach Boys, and varied hapless Chicago sports teams met monthly 40 odd years later till two of us moved far away and one recently passed. The convos went to stories of interesting jobs and people associated with Frain, Andy Senior, Junior, Mike and Peter, 40,000 Murphy, Godfrey, Jonas, Modesti and others. It diverted into our families and aches and pains along the way over a couple of Chicago extra thin crust pizzas and Beer or something stronger. Good times then and now, like after a job, getting served at McCuddy’s or Billy Goat or at a place near Wrigley. Sadly several of us were working a parking job at a North Shore party the night Kup and Essie’s daughter was found deceased and the Frain Chief was asked by local PD to go inside the party and bring Kupcinets out side to be notified so as to keep things more private. Being seen but “unseen” had its advantages. We all went on to successful careers in public service, sales, medical fields , and religious entities. I do believe that in Mr Banakis case as with the rest of us boomers and our moms we were kept out so the men could share and decompress from the horrors of WWII. Not fun times or stories for sure.

  9. ” What a drag it is getting old…” Mothers Little Helper , The Rolling Stones. Btw, 80 something year old Mick Jagger just married his 40 year old girlfriend.

  11. Jimmy, Xristos Anesti!
    I too now, have more doctors than friends at this age of 78. However, I’m still on this side of the dirt, for which I’m thankful. Gives me more time to spend with family and a few good friends. Soon my grandchildren will all be teenagers, and when that happens, I surmise they won’t want to talk to Pappou or Yiayia until they’re at least 25! I fear I may not be around, but hopefully they’ll remember our talks of life we enjoyed. Yes, growing old sucks, but then, what’s the alternative? Just gotta keep on – keeping on!

  12. You bring back memories of my days working at McDonalds. There were always 3-4 old guys sitting at a table drinking bottomless cups of coffee…all morning ! If you would walk by, someone would somehow include you in the discussion.

    You just don’t see that much anymore.

    And I do remember “Kup’s Show” on Sunday nights. Irv Kupcinet was a newspaper guy in the realm of what was then known as an editorialist (JK, correct me if I’m wrong). If I remember it correctly, he’d also do commentaries for WMAQ.

    1. Ken, I seem to remember Kup’s show was on Saturday nights and I enjoyed the “lovely art of conversation” many times. Kup was one of a kind.

  13. You had me from the title with a reference to “The Maltese Falcon” and cemented it by starting with a reference to “The Godfather”. Thanks for an enjoyable article.

  14. Men bond over the simplest things and not the same things as women. My dad could spend hours talking about old roads in New Jersey to anyone who would listen. Food and medical stuff are pretty universally standard for both men and women. But where to find the best gas prices? I think that’s strictly man territory and apparently it’s serious business.

  15. Jimmy,
    Great memories be it having the door shut as a kid or later in life when the meeting would take place at one of the many bars on Rush St. with friends relating our highs or lows of the great sale we made or the one we lost that day. The meeting was necessary for we called it “Group Therapy” thus avoiding falling into the Death of Salesman mode.

  16. One of the best things about playing ice hockey is after the skate, when we form a circle, or two or three circles and tell stories. Often the same stories. Sometimes we form a circle and pass around some ceremonial smoke. Never doubt the power of shared smoke, tobacco of course.

    In the end, all culture, effective culture at least, is oral 🙂

  17. Mr. Banakis.

    Enjoyed today’s column very much. Though a born and raised Chicagoan, I now reside in Colorado since 2021. I look forward to our bi-weekly breakfast group traveling road show. I, too, I’m the youngest but I relish the fact that our conversations assure me that I am not an outlier and that I still have a lot learn. Perhaps on one of my frequent visits to Chicago, I run into your group.

  18. I enjoyed the column very much you are a talented writer.

    The old men behind closed doors I recall from my youth wanting to listen to my father and his pals all WWII vets swapping stories. I also was told to “hit the road” as my father would say. Never mean just this is not for you. I started noticing the old men meeting for breakfast as I traveled for work the last 40+ years and joked that I would be one of those guys someday.

    My Rotary group meets every Friday for breakfast, so I guess I am!

    Thanks Jimmy

  20. A trip down memory lane. In the following story I may not use the real names of the participants, since their progeny still walk the Earth. Here goes:
    Back in the election of 72, I was helping a local pol get elected to being a state rep, which he did, in addition to being the Dem Committeeman for our local south suburban township. Combined, those two positions made Pauly an influential man. Now, Pauly had an up and coming friend by the name of Lou. Lou wanted to be a local alderman. Bad. Real bad. So, Pauly and Lou went out to dinner one a Sunday night after all the local restaurants closed. But one stayed open, because of the guests. Their buddy, Larry was there as well. And finally, I was there. The only guy at the meeting/dinner whose last name didn’t end in a vowel, if you catch my drift. The dinner lasted until 1am. I caught hell when I got home. The vino flowed. The men talked about politics, the way I had never heard it spoken of before. Time flew by. As a 17 year old, brought into that august gathering of men, I felt very grown up, all of a sudden. I guess I was. As we left Pauly said to me, ‘stick with me kid, and I’ll have you farting through silk shorts’ I’ll never forget that. I didn’t get into local politics. I joined the Navy right after I turned 18 in December of’72

Leave a Reply