A Hip Happening for Yuppies : Would-Be Movers and Shakers Find a Blue Note in Their Happy Hour

The conversations were animated. At one drink-laden table, which included a financial administrator in a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots, the talk ranged from the imminent visit of British royalty to the ethics of preserving severed human heads. Nearby, a young mortgage banker wearing a three-piece suit discussed a pending loan. And from time to time a vivacious female real estate agent distributed flyers on a daffodil sale to benefit the American Cancer Society.

For an hour or so the revelers sat alone in their observance of Friday happy hour at System M, one of Long Beach’s sleek hangouts on Pine Avenue downtown. A long narrow room with glistening glass table-tops and metallic gray walls, the establishment serves exotic coffees, doubles as an art gallery, and is host to such artsy events as jazz concerts and poetry readings.

As the regular evening crowd began arriving, however, the animated conversations at the back tables blended into the general din. So one by one, the talkers drifted off. Thus ended the most recent meeting of Blue Note, an informal weekly gathering of friends and associates that, unlike most happy hour crowds, always sits at the same place, keeps a permanent record of its proceedings, and is considered by participants to be one of the hippest happenings in town.

“It’s about the only thing going on that I know will be happening at a certain time and certain place,” said Liz Mediavilla, 29, owner of a local graphic design business and long-time Blue Noter. “It’s a ritual. For me, it’s replaced going to church.”

Said James Waedekin, 25, the financial administrator who is also an aspiring actor and writer: “It’s like a support group. There are a lot of positive creative people here in a lot of different fields. It’s helped me find out who’s who in Long Beach.”

Finding out who’s who, in fact, is part of the Blue Note idea. Begun about a year ago by a local architect, the group is patterned after European coffee house gatherings in which artists and intellectuals come together each week for an open forum on political, social and artistic topics. In Long Beach, the group consists more of young business and professional types who fancy themselves the city’s future movers and shakers.

“We’re very active, progressive and on top of what’s happening today,” said Louis Skelton, the architect who started it all. That happened in 1987 when he stopped in the artsy cafe for lunch with his partner and office manager. “It was like coming to a harbor,” remembers Skelton, 37. “I felt an immediate affinity for the place.”

Recalling a similar group from his North Carolina youth, the young architect decided to start Blue Note by word of mouth. It got its name, he said, when an out-of-town friend mistakingly referred to System M as the “Blue Note,” a famous jazz club of 1920s Paris. The moniker fits, Skelton said, because, like jazz, the Friday night gatherings are free-flowing: “Everybody contributes their own values and there’s no formality.”

Since the beginning, the weekly convergences, which take place from about 5:30 to 7:30 p.m. and are open to anybody, have attracted a revolving yuppie crowd ranging from a handful to as many as 60. Most Fridays, Skelton said, a core group of about 15 regulars shows up. “There are no rules and no restrictions,” he said. “People talk about whatever’s in their hearts.”

What is in their hearts has ranged from local politics to the latest trends in improvisational theater. Specific recent topics have included the city’s mayoral race, attempts to preserve the historic Pacific Coast Club and the parking problems of Belmont Shore. Besides royalty and cryonics, last Friday’s wide-ranging discussions--several of which went on simultaneously--touched on personal and professional growth as well as the relative merits of skiing in Colorado.

To preserve the essence of each gathering, the Blue Noters have developed a little ritual. Each week a paper place mat, after being properly decorated at the table by the evening’s designated artist, is passed around to become the recipient of everyone’s signature and comments. Ultimately, the place mats are stored for posterity by System M’s management. “Someday we’ll have an exhibition,” Skelton promised.

Although Blue Note regulars object to being described as networkers, some of that inevitably goes on at their gatherings. And though they are reticent to make too many generalizations about themselves, they do admit to being unanimously enamored of Long Beach.

“Everyone here is interested in seeing the city become a new metropolis,” said Thomas Zahlten, 31, an architect who has designed elegant local imitations of Victorian houses, photos of which have graced city buses.

James Kirk Hankla, a mortgage banker and son of the city manager, says he attends Blue Note gatherings occasionally to conduct business in a relaxed atmosphere. “It’s not a meat market,” said Hankla, 26. “It’s subdued and you can talk.”