Remembering Al Cruz and “That Balance”

The Real Measurement of Success Means Achieving “That Balance”

Thanks Al. Thanks for the nudge. We needed it. I needed it.  A gentle reminder that it isn’t all about work.  Schedules and deadlines be damned, I’m not returning that call till tomorrow. I’m going home to have dinner with the wife and kids. Albeit with mixed success, Al knew I was working on “That Balance.” Yet, even with this new sense of sensibility, and a night without a meeting, I still was one of the first in and  last out.  It was my habitual internal clock making sure that the grindstone and my nose were never far apart. 

Al came to his own revelation way before I did. All work and no-play are harmful. He knew it, the big names on his magazine covers like former Raiders head coach Tom Flores knew it, even I finally knew it. One must find life’s equilibrium. Come up for air occasionally.    

Al and I had professionally known each other since the early 1980s. As an architect with McClellan, Cruz, Gaylord, and Associates, he represented commercial, office, and hospitality developers. As for me, I had been the redevelopment/economic development guy.   Living in the continuing undertow of Proposition 13, I worked in municipalities that were still fixated on revenue replacement. After all, California local governments lost an estimated 60% of property tax revenues in the first year after Jarvis did his thing. The immediate result were major budget reductions, layoffs, and even the dissolution of special districts. Cities were thrown into survival mode. We were forced to operate on the lower rungs of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Depending on the municipality,  quality of life programming became a luxury.  We were in the business of “Show Me the Money.”  The zero-sum game of ” Retail and Hospitality Recruitment” had begun. 

Snagging new sales and transient occupancy taxes were the objectives. Cities had to have their own points of sale. It was all about leveraging redevelopment tax increment dollars to garner the greatest return on the public’s investment. These were the days of “The Transaction” when everything was due yesterday.  We needed to break ground and cut ribbons. Elected bodies, city managers, constituents, equity investors, lenders, rating agencies, and even our own labor groups needed to see foundations poured.  The pressure was on.  We were trying to put meat back on the bone. The private sector knew they held the cards. Those on the public side of the counter, the ones that put in the effort, became grounded in the technical workings of real estate development, pro-forma analysis, risk assessment, and public and private equity and debt financing. We learned all about net cash-flow, R.O.E., R.O.I., preferred returns, bond ratings and cap rates. We also learned all about market demand, trade areas, site selection, and the politics behind all of it. We learned how to get it done while equally prioritizing our fiduciary responsibility in managing the public’s money. It wasn’t easy maneuvering those mine fields. Fortunately, there were mentors, many from the private sector itself.  Al was one of them.

He was the consummate professional; soft spoken, a great listener, a skilled architect, a truly likable guy that had his priorities in order. Over the years, I had been fortunate to have worked with him on several commercial projects. Many of his clients were some of the biggest and most demanding in the commercial development industry. He had his own balancing act.  What I came to learn: His mentorship went way beyond the technical ins and outs of good commercial site design. He had become a work-life equilibrium guru: One who understood that time was life’s most valuable commodity.  He had found “That Balance,” and wanted to share its secrets through the experiences of others. That’s what his non-profit publication was all about. It had no advertisements. It was totally funded through donations. His Board of Advisors, from Mayor Tom Bradley to Steven Soboroff,  was a cross section of L.A.’s “Who’s Who” from all walks of life, major players in their own right. 

In his above referenced letter to me, Al made mention that he thought “City officials are particularly vulnerable to the workaholic syndrome. He then asked me: “How do you balance it? What was the biggest factor that made you change jobs?” In this instance, it was off to the private sector as a Vice President for one of the largest sole-proprietor residential developers in the nation. I must admit, it was an incredible financial offer. It was the only mercenary move I’ve made in my entire career. If I was going to put in that many hours, I might as well get paid for it.   After all, given what was in inventory and on the horizon, I was convinced I wouldn’t be working much past my 55th birthday. I just had to get used to the almost singular focus of profitability, the time value of money, and hard deadlines. As a result, mostly due to the commute and off-site meetings, I was getting home even later. Plus, I was also starting my stint as the Chairman of the California Association for Local Economic Development (CALED).

As it turned out, the first major recession in years set in and I found myself laid off, along with a division president and many of the company’s faithful. Forward planning, entitlement processing, and the entire office, commercial, and industrial side of the building were the first to go. Ironically, of those that were shown the door, I actually was one of the last to go. Most got a thirty minute notice and a check. I got three months and a little more in the envelope. The eerieness of unlit corridors lined with empty offices made it feel so much longer. All of it was a shock. One that I would not have endured had I stayed put. Fortunately, I had a good reputation and after 15 years of experience, I had acquired the technical and managerial skill sets to back it up. As it turned out, I was only out of work for a month. It was December 1991 and I was back at the director’s chair at another city hall. Others were not nearly so lucky.

It took that experience to reflect and listen to Al. It all hit home. His voice, his words of wisdom. I had been out of balance. For all of you out there still climbing the ladder, I would only suggest you need to look beyond titles and compensation in making your career choices. There are no guarantees especially when one is chasing developer gold. All work and no play really does make Jack a dull boy.

You will note that Al’s magazine was first published in January 1990. My head may have been thicker than most, but I finally got it. Most of us eventually did. We just had to set the right stage, at the right time, in the right place to make it all work. Due diligence and some luck had a lot to do with it. Al is gone but I will always value our conversations, our friendship. I’m a better person for just knowing him. I owe him a lot. After all, he’s the one that helped me find that balance.