My oldest daughter is getting married this Friday.
My youngest girl is skipping two days of school beginning tomorrow so that she, her sister and their mom can begin getting nails did, hair did, do dress stuff and who knows whatever else women do two or three days before a wedding.
I tried on my tux this evening at the overpriced men’s store with it’s swishy, snooty male employees. It fits.
Tomorrow night is rehearsal at the church and then dinner at a Mexican restaurant.
I got the call this evening. My daughter is getting married. No, not 15 year-old Gabby but Sara, my 22 year-old. It isn’t that much of a surprise to anyone but when she announced this it was one of those weird moments that caused the blood to suddenly drain from my head.
I am very happy for her but I am also dreading the day we have to go tux shopping.
I’ve been listening all day to talk about the 40th anniversary of the 1969 moon mission. I heard everything from where you were when you saw it on TV or heard it on the radio to what it meant to you to how it made you feel. Of course, the topic of the space shuttles came up too.
This reminded me of the most unbelievably stupid comment by the stupidest person I’ve ever known. As he often did, he dropped by one day unannounced. I was watching coverage of the Columbia disaster. Believe it or not, he actually said something like this: “Well, you know when you’re going the speed-a-light it’s dangerous enterin’ the “world atmosphere.” As well as thinking anything else can travel at the speed of light he actually said “world atmosphere”.
What sounds did this guy hear in his head? It’s funny but then again it’s really not funny at all. There is a difference between being stupid and just being dingy. Occasional dinginess is even less of an issue. I was dingy in high school but no one thought I was stupid. I thought of some other people’s dingy moments that I thought were really funny. Here are just a few of them.
Jennifer- a waitress at a bar I worked at
She was just too young to be working as a waitress at a bar. The poor girl was so gullible. She asked a customer for directions. He told her how many “red lights” she had to pass before making a turn. Her response was “Well, what if all the lights are all green? I could just be driving and driving forever . . . ”
My sister
The biker bar marquis
My sister and her boyfriend were driving through a neighborhood which had many biker bars. She saw a little marquis outside of one of the bars that said ” No colors”. She immediately went berserk saying “I can’t believe what I’m seeing! What the fuck decade are we living in? That is just so wrong! How can they do that?” She calmed down after it was explained to her that “colors” meant biker jackets that show affiliation with a certain gang or “club” and not black people.
The chimpanzee
When we were kids in the seventies watching a documentary with our parents about a chimpanzee that was being taught sign language, my sister asked this question: “Aww . . . is he deaf?”
This Christmas, my Mom gave me the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. It was from both of my parents but it was her idea and she’s the one that did the legwork. It was just a small gift given to me before they gave me my official gift as the girls and I were leaving. However, it is the one I value the most and without me saying so, they both know it.
It is a picture taken in 1971 of me, my Dad and my Grandfather that she had blown up and framed. Throughout our lives my Mom ended up taking an entire moving box full of photos. That’s not an expression, that’s where they are still kept to this day. She’s been kicking herself in the ass for decades for not organizing them in God knows how many photo albums it would require.
Let me describe the picture for you. It’s a close up shot of the three of us in the driveway of my favorite childhood home as we’re painting my Dad’s boat. I remember this day. (I’m 44 and I remember my childhood starting from the age of 3). The picture was taken from the side. In it you can see part of my grandparent’s 1960-something blue bug and my parent’s 1960-something white Ford Falcon station wagon.
I’m in the foreground at 6 1/2 years old wearing some goofy 1971 sneakers, a collared shirt with an awful striped pattern that has actually come back in style for some unfortunate reason and some jeans that look to short. My Grandfather at 63 is dressed in his work clothes as he always was, on or off duty. He was a big, lean, tall, dark and rugged Indian (native American for you PC types); The type man, even at that age, that could yank your arms and legs off. He is behind me to my side. Behind him and to his side is my Dad at 32 looking just like Elvis Presley in the fifties. The beauty of this picture is that it shows three generations working side by side on an object of a passion we shared.
Here is the story behind the picture. My Mom came into the garage and saw this scene and went back in to get her camera. She quietly came back out and snapped the picture. We were completely unaware that she was doing this which is what makes the picture as perfect a “slice of life” image as a Norman Rockwell painting complete with a bit of the top of my Dad’s head out of the frame.*
*Rockwell frequently painted from photographs he took himself, flaws and all.
Dissonance 