Once again I’m backlogged with Museum stories.
- I served two people with Black (titanium) American Express cards, one of the guys was from Lima Peru, the other one was from England (I think),
- umpteen kids pressed “The Scream” until I was screaming.
I shook hands with two of my heroes
- Dale Chihuly, the famous glass blower. (he’s so distinctive with that eye patch).
- and Joe Schlesinger who worked as a foreign correspondent for CBC Television News for 28 years. Joe also kissed my hand. Sigh…
Earlier this month I served a woman at the Childrens’ Store, “I’m buying this pop-up dragon book for my son,” she said.
Okay full disclosure, I don’t jump up and down every time someone tells me they’re buying a book for their kid. I said, “That’s very nice.” and luckily I added, “You’re a good Mom, that’s a lovely book.”
“Yes it’s perfect for my son. He’s twenty-nine,”
A twenty-nine year-old who was going to enjoy a child’s pop up book? I wasn’t sure whether I was expected to say something, so I smiled at her.
“I think it’s a good book to remind him of his childhood, to help him forget…” she said, and mumbled something I didn’t catch, but I did hear her say “John’s on his third tour of duty in Iraq.”
“Oh,” I said, unable at the spur of the moment to think of anything better to say. I always have difficulty thinking fast and coming up with appropriate comments at times like that.
“My darling boy will be coming home for good in about three weeks.”
I had heard President Obama’s speech where he announced our withdrawal from Iraq by the end of the year, so I understood her excitement.
“I’m trying to gather a few things like this to help him settle down once he’s back home…” she said, “We’ll only get about 72 hours notice of his arrival.”
I cannot imagine the anguish of the mothers whose sons and daughters are fighting our wars, their pain isn’t recognized or acknowledged, there isn’t even a word for it. I could only say “Thank you.”
Martha, that’s her name, told me she’d been a teacher for many years and when her son went on his first tour of duty she’d left teaching and studied to become a Lutheran Minister. She has a congregation in Northern California.
Before she left she gave me a little hand knitted prayer shawl made by women of her congregation.
I’ve added a few photos of the book. It is really lovely:
Many school groups in the past few weeks…
Read my lips:
1. “Tell me,” said an older gentleman from Hawaii, “was the Mona Lisa painted by Picasso?”
2 Are we upstairs or downstairs?
3. Question: “How much is this?”
Me: “Three dollars.”
Question: “Three dollars for this?”
* * * * * *
“I know everything about you, but I can’t remember a thing,” she said to the woman standing next to her.
* * * * * *
Last week I had lunch with old friends and new friends.
On Tuesday our good friend Francee from Italy came to the museum with Michael from Dallas, and Zev from Spain. My lunch break wasn’t long enough.
On Wednesday I met Jody Shapiro from Maryland at my cash register, and when we bumped into each other outside during my lunch break we continued the conversation.
Jody told me she’s a “lithographer” and a yoga teacher, who’d come to L.A to visit her daughter who majored in Film in Boston, and was lucky to get a job here.
You know how you can meet someone and immediately feel a connection? Jody and I chatted as if we’d known each other for years, and the forty-five minute lunch break just flew by. I look forward to seeing her next time she visits her daughter.
* * * * * *
“Life is too short to drink cheap wine,” Madhav, one of the security guards told me.
I’ll drink to that one…
* * * * * *
I had a hot flash while serving Judy from Australia, and had to stop to take off my sweater. She laughed and told me she called those events “a Private Summer“.