As I was blowdrying my hair this morning (an activity that second only to showering, brings my best ideas to surface), I very much out of nowhere had a "vision" of a distant memory. It was a mental image of Dad pulling out a silver goblet from high in the cupboard to drink water from. How long has it been since I have thought of this cup? And why now? I don't know. It was so strange. And now I have questions I'd like answered.
1. Where did the silver goblet come from?
2. Did the silver goblet have a name?
3. Was it actually intended for use as a drinking cup? I assume Dad liked it because it must've kept the cold water (from the brown pitcher, of course) very cold.
4. In my memory the silver goblet was only for Dad to drink from. Am I correct? Did anyone else ever try to sneak a drink? I'm certain I did. I can still remember the cold metal in my hand and taste the metallic water. Whether it was prohibited or frowned upon, I can't remember.
5. Was it ever washed? My memory of it has a little corrosion around the bottom. . .? (Can you put a metal goblet in the dishwasher?)
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Friday, January 10, 2014
The Millenial Year Presses on to our View
This memory has been stirred over the past couple months and makes me laugh every time I think of it, so I want to write it down!
When I was home for Christmas in 1999, middle of my sophomore year at BYU, Bishop Swenson (or was it still Bishop Ebert? I don't remember) asked me to give a talk in the Granite Ridge Ward Sacrament meeting on the Sunday between Christmas and New Year's Eve. Dad was the Stake President at the time, so he came to our ward to hear me speak and sat on the stand with me. For the opening hymn, Dad and I shared a hymnal as we sang "Come, let us Anew" (Hymn 217). When we got to then end of the second verse and sang the words "The millenial year presses on to our view, " Dad started to chuckle a little- being that it was just days before January 1, 2000. It was just too fitting and he couldn't help himself. And that made me start to giggle. And we were sitting on the stand. And trying to stifle the laughing, which made it all the harder. I remember trying so hard not to burst out laughing that I was physically shaking and my eyes were watering. Then, through watery eyes, I caught a glimpse of Mom, over on her second row on the side. I'm sure you can image the stern expression on her face: pursed lips, wide eyes, and a look that unmistakably said, "STOP IT." Dad saw her about the same time because, through his own attempts to stifle the laughing he said, "look at Mom!" and we both started laughing more and her eyes got even wider! Neither of us completely lost it while on the stand, but I think there was enough going on that anyone who happened to look at the stand during that song could tell there was something going on! Ha!
When I was home for Christmas in 1999, middle of my sophomore year at BYU, Bishop Swenson (or was it still Bishop Ebert? I don't remember) asked me to give a talk in the Granite Ridge Ward Sacrament meeting on the Sunday between Christmas and New Year's Eve. Dad was the Stake President at the time, so he came to our ward to hear me speak and sat on the stand with me. For the opening hymn, Dad and I shared a hymnal as we sang "Come, let us Anew" (Hymn 217). When we got to then end of the second verse and sang the words "The millenial year presses on to our view, " Dad started to chuckle a little- being that it was just days before January 1, 2000. It was just too fitting and he couldn't help himself. And that made me start to giggle. And we were sitting on the stand. And trying to stifle the laughing, which made it all the harder. I remember trying so hard not to burst out laughing that I was physically shaking and my eyes were watering. Then, through watery eyes, I caught a glimpse of Mom, over on her second row on the side. I'm sure you can image the stern expression on her face: pursed lips, wide eyes, and a look that unmistakably said, "STOP IT." Dad saw her about the same time because, through his own attempts to stifle the laughing he said, "look at Mom!" and we both started laughing more and her eyes got even wider! Neither of us completely lost it while on the stand, but I think there was enough going on that anyone who happened to look at the stand during that song could tell there was something going on! Ha!
I'm the kind of person. . .
It was the fall of 1999 and I was sophomore at BYU. Erik and his wife Julie lived in Long Beach, CA, and had 3 darling little kids. Erik was a salesman for a computer software company (or something like that) and had had a great year in sales so was invited on a reward trip. He called to ask me to stay with his kids for the weekend while he and Julie were away. Of course! Like any 19-year-old aunt, I jumped at the opportunity! For my payment (like I even cared- being with the kids was fine for me!), Erik paid for my plane ticket.
A few days before I left, my Mom called me to see if I would mind Robby (who was 14) coming along to help me out. I think something came up that my parents needed to do and didn't want to leave Robby alone; or maybe my mom was just worried about me being out there alone. I don't really remember the specifics, but I do know that I was thrilled to have Robby come along. So my parents got him a ticket on my same flight, but because it was scheduled later we weren't sitting together. We decided once we got on the plane we'd just ask on both our rows and see if someone was willing to switch seats.
If I remember right, Robby had a middle seat and I had a window seat a few rows behind him. As we boarded the plane we came to his row first and there was already a lady sitting in the window seat. She was probably in her 40's or 50's, and a little large. We politely explained our situation to her and asked if she'd be willing to trade with me- window seat for window seat.
She surprised us by curtly responding, "I'm the kind of person that once I'm seated, I really don't like to move. Sorry."
Neither of us were sure how to respond to that. I think I just looked at her for a few seconds, half-expecting her to laugh and say "just kidding!" But she didn't. She just went back to reading her magazine. So I told Robby I'd go check my row and see if he could sit back there. But before I could take a step, the nice man sitting in the aisle seat by Robby who had overheard the whole conversation and seemed as surprised by it as me, offered me his seat and didn't mind taking my window seat a few rows back. Thank you, nice man! So I settled in, leaving Robby in the middle, right next to the large lady who doesn't like to move.
The flight went along as normal- SkyMall, peanuts and pretzels, drinks. Robby and I, being the experienced fliers that we were, had both ordered our drink with the can, because they never give you enough in that little cup full of ice. I most likely had ginger ale and Robby probably had Dr. Pepper, I don't remember for sure. But I do remember the next shocking thing that Large Lady did just before the stewardess came to collect our snack trash.
Robby had just emptied the rest of his can into his cup and taken a swig, leaving a couple swallows, when Large Lady leaned over to him and asked if he would mind letting her finish off his drink. Seriously. I think she had some excuse like hers was gone (because she didn't get the can) and she really just needed a little more.
Robby, being the nice guy that he is (and totally taken aback by the request) just said, "sure," but almost like it was a question because he didn't think someone would seriously ask that. But it became obvious that she was serious when she grabbed his cup and downed it, then thanked him while handing back the the empty cup. We were both a little bewidlered as the stewardess collected the shared cup along with the other cups and wrappers and the plane touched down.
Later, Robby wished he'd thought fast enough to reply with something like, "I'm the kind of person that once I start a drink, I really like to finish it." Or else, "I'm the kind of person that doesn't like to share my drink with complete strangers. Sorry." Just to throw it back in her face. But of course, he'd have never really said that to her. He also would have traded seats to let teenage sibling sit together. . .
The babysitting all went great and Erik and Julie enjoyed their getaway. I have some fun memories like Robby getting mad at me when I wanted to just make mac & cheese instead of call a neighbor to find out the crossroads so we could order pizza. He called the neighbor himself- I told you he's pretty mature- and we had pizza. And then there was the Tom Green Show episode we watched with Monica Lewinski on it and they were handing out bread to ice skaters while Tom yelled "Would you like some bread?" through a megaphone. We had little Amanda and Ashley both saying that before we left.
The icing on the trip came with the flight home. Because Robby got his ticket late he was actually on stand-by for this flight. So I changed mine to stand-by so that he wouldn't be left behind alone and neither of us would have to fly home alone. This was back before 9/11 when families could walk to the gate with you, so we stood with Erik and his family waiting to see if we'd get on the flight. At this time, Dad had been working in sales for IBM for almost 30 years and had flown on enough business trips to be a Platinum Medallion Member with Delta, meaning he could pretty much get on any flight, always first class, and was treated very well. And Robby has the same name as Dad. Can you see where this is going? When the Delta ticket agent put in Robby's name it must have registered as Dad, because not only did we get on the flight, we got first class tickets! We got a meal on the short flight home- with real silverware (again- before 9/11)! And we didn't have to pay the first class price. Pretty sweet deal! And great way to end the fun trip.
A few days before I left, my Mom called me to see if I would mind Robby (who was 14) coming along to help me out. I think something came up that my parents needed to do and didn't want to leave Robby alone; or maybe my mom was just worried about me being out there alone. I don't really remember the specifics, but I do know that I was thrilled to have Robby come along. So my parents got him a ticket on my same flight, but because it was scheduled later we weren't sitting together. We decided once we got on the plane we'd just ask on both our rows and see if someone was willing to switch seats.
If I remember right, Robby had a middle seat and I had a window seat a few rows behind him. As we boarded the plane we came to his row first and there was already a lady sitting in the window seat. She was probably in her 40's or 50's, and a little large. We politely explained our situation to her and asked if she'd be willing to trade with me- window seat for window seat.
She surprised us by curtly responding, "I'm the kind of person that once I'm seated, I really don't like to move. Sorry."
Neither of us were sure how to respond to that. I think I just looked at her for a few seconds, half-expecting her to laugh and say "just kidding!" But she didn't. She just went back to reading her magazine. So I told Robby I'd go check my row and see if he could sit back there. But before I could take a step, the nice man sitting in the aisle seat by Robby who had overheard the whole conversation and seemed as surprised by it as me, offered me his seat and didn't mind taking my window seat a few rows back. Thank you, nice man! So I settled in, leaving Robby in the middle, right next to the large lady who doesn't like to move.
The flight went along as normal- SkyMall, peanuts and pretzels, drinks. Robby and I, being the experienced fliers that we were, had both ordered our drink with the can, because they never give you enough in that little cup full of ice. I most likely had ginger ale and Robby probably had Dr. Pepper, I don't remember for sure. But I do remember the next shocking thing that Large Lady did just before the stewardess came to collect our snack trash.
Robby had just emptied the rest of his can into his cup and taken a swig, leaving a couple swallows, when Large Lady leaned over to him and asked if he would mind letting her finish off his drink. Seriously. I think she had some excuse like hers was gone (because she didn't get the can) and she really just needed a little more.
Robby, being the nice guy that he is (and totally taken aback by the request) just said, "sure," but almost like it was a question because he didn't think someone would seriously ask that. But it became obvious that she was serious when she grabbed his cup and downed it, then thanked him while handing back the the empty cup. We were both a little bewidlered as the stewardess collected the shared cup along with the other cups and wrappers and the plane touched down.
Later, Robby wished he'd thought fast enough to reply with something like, "I'm the kind of person that once I start a drink, I really like to finish it." Or else, "I'm the kind of person that doesn't like to share my drink with complete strangers. Sorry." Just to throw it back in her face. But of course, he'd have never really said that to her. He also would have traded seats to let teenage sibling sit together. . .
This is a picture from a visit (along with mom and dad) a few months before, but gives you an idea of our ages at the time.
The babysitting all went great and Erik and Julie enjoyed their getaway. I have some fun memories like Robby getting mad at me when I wanted to just make mac & cheese instead of call a neighbor to find out the crossroads so we could order pizza. He called the neighbor himself- I told you he's pretty mature- and we had pizza. And then there was the Tom Green Show episode we watched with Monica Lewinski on it and they were handing out bread to ice skaters while Tom yelled "Would you like some bread?" through a megaphone. We had little Amanda and Ashley both saying that before we left.
The icing on the trip came with the flight home. Because Robby got his ticket late he was actually on stand-by for this flight. So I changed mine to stand-by so that he wouldn't be left behind alone and neither of us would have to fly home alone. This was back before 9/11 when families could walk to the gate with you, so we stood with Erik and his family waiting to see if we'd get on the flight. At this time, Dad had been working in sales for IBM for almost 30 years and had flown on enough business trips to be a Platinum Medallion Member with Delta, meaning he could pretty much get on any flight, always first class, and was treated very well. And Robby has the same name as Dad. Can you see where this is going? When the Delta ticket agent put in Robby's name it must have registered as Dad, because not only did we get on the flight, we got first class tickets! We got a meal on the short flight home- with real silverware (again- before 9/11)! And we didn't have to pay the first class price. Pretty sweet deal! And great way to end the fun trip.
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