A MERRY PRANKSTER
Uploaded in the Jan. 24, 2026 issue.
He was born two years before Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters took their bus on the road, but Mike Melin was a kindred spirit. During his 63 years, he created his own bus, and if you were lucky enough, you got to ride with him for a spell.
He was a perfect match for the hospitality profession. He was positive, upbeat, engaged. He saw people for their best selves. He forgave them their foibles.
He was the middle child of three, born in Johannesburg, South Africa to a mother who was orphaned at 12 and a father who described his side of the family as the “Swedish mafia.” He did not introduce his brood to more distant relations.
So they were in essence a party of five.
Which splintered as Mike entered his sophomore year of high school. His parents divorced and Mike, who had been living in Palo Alto since he was an infant, moved to Sacramento with his mother and two sisters.
He started at QB for the football team as a freshman. He was a dynamite skier who sailed off cliffs doing backflips. He was irreverent and charming and his little sister loved him madly – even when she found herself on the short end of a joke.
She recalls one Christmas where Mike asked her what she was getting him for Christmas. They were at an age where gift-giving amongst the siblings hadn’t become a regular occurrence. But she had just started a paper route so she had a little money.
“That’s what I got for you,” Mike said, pointing to a wrapped gift under the tree.
So Leslie, four years Mike’s junior, proceeded to get him a sweater he wanted. And on Christmas Day, Leslie opened her present from Mike – it was one of her own Kiss albums that Mike had repurposed.
Laughter all around. You couldn’t stay mad at him.
After high school, he attended the highly regarded hospitality management program at the University of Denver.
And met his lifelong friends Dave Spee and Philip Williamson.
The trio lived in the same dorm freshman year, joined the same fraternity and lived together off-campus for their final two years.
They were planning a ski trip together in Aspen this February.
“Mike was the goofball, Dave was cerebral and I’m somewhat in the middle,” said Williamson, describing their dynamic.
Williamson said his fondest memories occurred during a “semester-at-sea” program.
*Editor’s aside: The running joke at the time amongst undergrads was that it was popularly called “sex-at-sea.” Probably still is.
They get to Sri Lanka and Mike gets the idea to surf. He and Philip rent some boards and head to the beach.
“Oh, look at this. Perfect. No one’s here!” he exclaims.
So they dive into the water and paddle out and … there’s a reason they find themselves alone. The waves are enormous and they nearly drown and Mike loses his board in the process.
But it all made for a better story in the bar that night.
“He was always ‘yes’, always game,” said the other Musketeer Spee. “The theme of his life was joy, adventure and kindness. He had no fear.”
In a nutshell, “Mike made me feel good,” continued Spee. “He instantly made me happier [by his presence].”
Post-graduation, he went to work for the Cask and Cleaver restaurant chain in L.A. before getting a transfer to its Mammoth location for the winter of ‘85-’86.
When he arrived, Jim Lewey was the manager. Mike was the assistant. Their paths criss-crossed and leapfrogged over the next few decades.
As Jim observed wryly, “I was a worker. He was more of a director.”
And his charisma captivated people and drew them him.
Rob Wilson is now the owner of Glasspar, a fine dining establishment located in Dana Point. He opened it after a long and successful career at the Ritz-Carlton, where he served as Executive Chef at four different properties.
But he started just out of culinary school in the winter of 1992-1993 at Convict Lake.
He and his girlfriend (now-wife) Annique had planned to stay for one season.
When he told Mike he was leaving, Mike would have none of it. “But I’m opening another place, Cervino’s, in Mammoth. I wanted you to be the chef,” he said.
“What’s the concept?” replied Wilson.
“Whatever you want to do.”
So Mike invites Rob and Annique to the property one night soon thereafter. Candles are lit. Fine wine is uncorked. They’re 21 and 22 years old. So green. And properly dazzled. Of course they stayed another four years.
As Lewey said, Mike knew how to make people feel special. And if he had to embellish the truth a tad to create a moment, so be it.
Lewey recalled a time at Cervino’s where a shipment of Perrier came in. The bottles all happened to have these mountain scenes etched on them – some sort of marketing ploy.
A customer came in soon thereafter and commented on the beautiful bottles. Without missing a beat, Mike said, “Thank you. We special ordered those!”
But let’s take a detour here for the love story.
Mike met his wife Penny during the winter of ’86-’87 when she came into the Cask and Cleaver to apply for a job. Mike liked what he saw and he was persistent, but then, laughs Penny, they all were back in the day, when everybody hit on everybody.
Still, the guy was charming. As Penny said, “He had as sunny a disposition in private as in public. And he was fun!”
They vacationed for a week in Hawaii before Penny left to return to New Zealand. They communicated long distance. Mike visited. Then moved to New Zealand while Penny was finishing up a Masters degree. But then he was offered the GM job at the Cask and Cleaver and moved home.
The next seven months apart sealed the deal. She realized Mike was her guy.
They ultimately married in 1993. At Convict Lake Resort. Given their long and successful venture into wedding and event planning, one could say they were one of their own first and best test cases.
As Penny says, “He loved living well. He loved good wine. He loved vacationing places where there weren’t too many other people. He loved the ocean.”
She played me a short video clip on her phone from a recent vacation. Mike on a beach with music playing. He’s got a bit of “Buddy Juice” in him – his friend Buddy’s legendary margaritas. And he’s dancing. And he’s good – he can move. And he’s laughing.
Penny suggested that when she holds a celebration of life for Mike later this year, that the clip should simply be projected on a loop. Mike at his fun and outrageous best.
Penny and Mike didn’t have children – they decided to have animals instead. Lots of them.
Probably the closest daughter relationship he had was with Megan Kunkel, who worked with Mike as a wedding coordinator since 2010.
They got to know each other because Megan married her husband Rick at Convict in 2009, and then went to work for Mike the next season.
“He was fun. A goofball. He made me laugh and smile. There’s a reason why I stayed … he didn’t want things to be too serious. Kept it light. There was a lot of trust – he was a great mentor.”
As a father of two daughters, this next thing she said really resonated. If I’m sideways with my daughters, it wrecks me.
“He hated it when there was any friction between us … but the wedding business is difficult. There are heavy emotions. Stress is high.”
Fortunately, Mike had Megan to stress out for him.
And it was impossible to stay upset with Mike.
Because Mike was also the bestower of gifts and connections and good karma.
He invited Jim Lewey into the Cervino’s partnership. And introduced him to his wife of 18 years.
He also cemented the union of Steve Mejia and Tim Dawson at Nevado’s.
Dawson had interviewed Mejia for his open chef’s position but was still on the fence about it when Mike called.
Mike said simply that Mejia would be a perfect fit. That it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship and partnership.
Which it was. Mike’s call cinched the deal.
Steve Lopardo met Mike one day at Convict – he and his wife had been on a backpacking trip and wandered in at lunchtime for a meal, stinking as backpackers are wont to do after a week out.
They celebrated by ordering a really nice bottle of wine – an Opus One, either from ’91 or ’94.
You don’t sell a lot of bottles like this, so the boss (Mike) came out to serve.
And the friendship just evolved from there.
“He was transparent and real … and if you told him the truth, he wouldn’t judge you for it,” said Lopardo.
Mike talked about retiring to New Zealand for 25 years, but as Lopardo observed, “People vote with their feet … I even offered he and Penny a job running a winery in Temecula [that Lopardo has an ownership interest in] at one point. But he was never going to leave. His roots were too deep.”
Mike and Penny bought their home in Aspen Springs in 2004. Lopardo said he visited frequently.
“We must have sat in his jacuzzi together fifty times, talking about God, philosophy, sports, women and nothing at all. Mike was fond of saying that we’re here for a good time, not for a long time. He’d say it with that little trademark smile of his.”
On New Year’s Day, after helping out doing inventory at Morrison’s, Mike got home early enough to get in that tub and enjoy the sunset. And that’s where his wife found him when she returned home.
A celebration of life will most likely be held in late spring/early summer.
