Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Watching the Pioneer Parade or not

Tom and Bill

We invited Christine and Bill  for a slumber party, so they could leave their kingsized
Stearns & Foster mattress at home and sleep on a queen-sized blow-up mattress on our living room floor.

Somewhat blown up. Not very blown up. 

The idea was it was the most convenient way to be right there on the parade route at nine in the morning, because we live on the parade route.

Christine and I are not in the pic, because someone had to be awake to actually take the pic. Tom should have been more awake than he was, because he actually slept in a bed. After an hour, he said, "Isn't this long enough?"

"No, we haven't seen the refugee float yet!"

"No, we haven't seen the Liahona band yet!"

"No, we haven't heard the Momma's Pentacostal Choir yet!"  And so on.

Sam and Sarah and children arrived about a half hour into it and I got to hold baby George for awhile. He slept too.

The sun creeped across the street and we had to move the chairs back several times. If the parade had lasted too much longer we would have ended up in the building.

Was it worth it?  Of course!  It was worth hearing Bill tell the story of when he went to see Psycho as a young teen. It scared him silly,  When he got home he had to walk into a shadowy house that looked very much like the house in Psycho, into a gloomy. unlit basement where his bedroom was located.

In the dark, a vacuum attacked him. He screamed like a girl, fell over clutching the vacuum's neck and was saved by his father running down the stairs and turning on a light.

We ate lunch at Siegfried's. We sat in the back room where through the wall we could hear someone hacking with a cleaver. We assumed it was food.



Monday, July 18, 2016

Kids' movies

A couple of weeks ago, I took Sally, Louis and Elliot to see Finding Dory, which was so boring. Even they knew it was boring. "It wasn't funny," Elliot said. "It was just sad."

Sally (4) got the message. The minute the lights went up she fell into emotional bawling. "I want my mom and dad," she sobbed. Whaaaa! Whaaaa! Whaaaa!

Did she want to go home? No. She just wanted to cry her sadness out through the theater and into the women's bathroom and out to the car.

I was okay with that.  "Let's go to my house and watch My Little Pony," I said. She nodded. Good idea.

We have three computers, one for each of them. Perfection.

I said we could do better the following week.  And we did with The Secret Lives of Pets, which was funny. Plus, it took place in NYC and Brooklyn which were astonishing in a cartoon. NYC deserves its own cartoon.

Finding Dory was like standing in front of an aquarium for two hours.


Sunday, July 10, 2016

Brothers and sisters and Happy Birthday, Janie!

Front row from left: Janie, Marilyn, Louise, Judy, Toni. Back row: David, Teddy, Gerard

Janie came to town and we had a barbecue in Teddy's backyard. I know Teddy is not his adult name but how can I give up calling him Teddy? Is that not the best? He looks just like our paternal grandfather. He's a cheerful man as my father was. It wasn't until last year that I realized that my father was a cheerful man.  Slow learner.

Yes, I got a permanent, and now I look breathtakingly like my mother, although she brushed hers straight back. Why would one get a permanent when one is actually an old lady? Why? It's because I like to be at the forefront of fashion, and it's about time for the return of the permanent. Somebody tell Vogue Magazine.

Permanents are not as smelly as that Tonette home permanent my mother gave me, rinsing it over the kitchen sink and nearly gagging me with the stench. It was like water boarding with ammonia. In those days, you didn't let a permanent take its natural course; you put your hair up in bobby pins every night.  The fifties really was a water-boarding experience, now that I think of it.

It's Janie's birthday today. She's seventy-one.  In high school, she had these little spit curls in front of her ear. Not particularly attractive. "Why did you let me do that?"she  has asked.

Well, I don't know. Why did you let me write all those stupid things in my journal?  Thank heaven, those two high school journals were lost in the move from NYC.

Janie is one of the best people I know. I had to grow up to find that out. In fact, all my kith and kin are good people, but even better, they are drop-dead funny.

Happy Birthday, Janie.  I knew it was your birthday, because Mrs. Backer's bakery is closed the first two weeks in July--always was and always will be.

And guess what, you shouldn't have worn that wiglet in the seventies either.



Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Norma Jeanne Cannon Grow




Yesterday, I went to Norma Jeanne's graveside ceremony in Mt. Olivet Cemetery.  She was my sister-in-law, Kathy's, mother. Norma Jeanne's mother-in-law lived in Emigration Ward: Jessie Grow, and as I recall was the Relief Society president for awhile.  A lovely woman from long long ago.

Anyway Norma Jeanne died at the age of 87. She wore out. I met her, but I didn't know her.

I know more about her now.  For example her favorite color was red and she is buried in red shoes--my guess is they are high heels.  She was a high heels kind of woman. She wore red lipstick and red fingernail polish and she loved to buy clothes.  She sold real estate. She picked up stray people and let them live at her house (Not unlike Kathy and Teddy). She liked movies and that TV buying channel that I never watch. She loved cosmetic jewelry and buying people gifts.

She was also buried wearing her sunglasses, which she wore like Jack Nicholson--inside the house as well as outside. She was  buried wearing an Irish pin, because she either was Irish or wanted to be Irish.  I'm guessing she was more a wannabe.  I can't remember all the items she was buried with, but the coffin is filled up.

We, the guests, were also given sunglasses to wear in her honor. Also, we were in the sun.  There were about ten chairs set up and my brother, Gerard, who is a year younger than me, said, "I don't know if I can stand in that sun."

"We can use the "old" card," I said, "and sit in a chair," which we did. The oldest person there was  in a wheelchair.  There are advantages there.  Half the chairs remained empty because people are so polite about allowing others to use the chairs.

I liked hearing about Norma Jeanne and liked hearing her family sing.  I liked being outdoors in what is surely the most beautiful cemetery in Salt Lake.

Why didn't we consider Mt. Olivet?  Two deer stood  a little distance off watching the ceremonies.

At the end, we let go of red and white balloons and watched them float off into the atmosphere, the way we all hope we will float into another sphere and still be somewhat ourselves.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Really ugly ways to die:

Really ugly ways to die:

Beheaded with a sword or machete.

Impaled.

Eaten by grizzlies, sharks, wolves, rats, large snakes and crocodiles.

Boiled, grilled or fried.

Drawn and quartered.

Burned at the stake.

Crucified.

Stoned (with stones).

Starved.

Choking on a chicken bone in a five-star restaurant. Or while you're eating alone in bed.

Being choked by a person with bad breath.

Quicksand.

Buried alive.

Shoved out of a small airplane.

It was such a perfectly beautiful day today, I just had to spend a few minutes with my dark side.




Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Stuff happens and happens and happens

Tom ran into a woman on a bike yesterday. Actually, she ran into him. She sped through a red light and they collided in the intersection. All witnesses said it was her fault.

Still Tom carried the bigger stick as they say.  The woman went to the hospital in an ambulance but the police said she had minor injuries. By the time Tom got to her, others were stroking her head and hand as she lay moaning in the street. There was no blood. He stood by, discombobulated.

And he is still discombobulated. Running into a bicyclist wasn't his idea of a fine afternoon.

The front end of the Fiat had some dents and the glass had a nice crack in it, so today was spent renting a car, and taking our car to Progressive where they will estimate the damage. On the way home we bought some KFC and ate in Liberty Park overlooking the pond. We considered how stuff happens.

Stuff keeps happening. It never stops happening. You never reach that age where someone says to you, "Okay, you've had enough stuff happen; it's easy peasy from now on."

Easy peasy is a con. Always hang up on people who call to tell you you've won a free trip to the Bahamas.

The one image I have of the past two days is Tom walking out of a building into the sunlight with the wind catching his white hair up like a sail on a skiff. Tom. His name filled my head and I had such a warm feeling.




Wednesday, April 6, 2016

To Charlene, Ahmud, Jason and all others who lived in my apartment before me

Hey guys, we took down the second tier cupboards, so now you can see from the kitchen out to the mountains. When I say "we," I mean Tom did that. The man deserves a new lunch bucket. He unscrewed the doors and then three cupboards and carried the load out to the dumpsters.

Did we ask for permission?  No. Never ask for permission. Besides, the management is updating apartments as people move out, so these old cupboards are scheduled for removal after we leave.

Don't know when. Don't care.

Sally is coming tomorrow.  Last week, I bought her an unbirthday cake at Mrs. Backers and had them write "Sally" in frosting.  She was pleased, although she let me know that "my mom says I've had enough sweets for today."

"Your mom isn't here," I said. "We're eating cake for lunch."

She stuck on all the candles in the box and Tom and I sang "Happy UnBirthday, dear Sally." 

She was embarrassed and wouldn't blow out the candles or make a wish, so I did that for her.

She didn't want me to cut the cake. She didn't want to use forks.

"I want to lick it," she said.

"Go for it," I said.

She licked about half the frosting off that cake.  Then she wanted it back in the box so she could take it home later. I managed to sneak a couple of forkfuls, which wasn't what I planned. I had hoped for a big hunking piece of cake.

 Sally: 1
Grandma: 0