Well, I've finally figured out how I got so smart. It's in my genes. Ok, not really. Not even remotely. Mainly because I'm adopted. I'm not saying that my birth parents weren't smart. They may have been stud geniuses. I'm getting completely sidetracked. On Saturday, Ron, Tyler and I went to my mom and dad's in Raymore to a family reunion. It really wasn't even our family. It was, kind of, in that fourth-cousin-twice-removed sort of way. It was my dad's father's sister's family. I sat here and thought about that last sentence for a full 30 seconds and I'm still not sure I'm right. Anyway, it was the Jennings side. The only reason my folks were invited (and consequently, the Martins) is that Foxwood Springs (where my mom and dad live) had the proper facility. Which was a big room with tables and chairs. And food. Now, back to the smart part. One of dad's cousins (I'm not really sure what the relationship it, but let's just keep it simple) was one of four women who programmed the ENIAC computer back in the 40's. Basically the first computer ever made. And she was a woman. In the 40's. There was a huge argument about whether or not she was the first woman on the cover of TIME magazine AND the Wall Street Journal. She says no to both, but everyone else in the room swore she was. Anyway. She hung out with John Nash (aka The Beautiful Mind guy) and is strictly brilliant. Her son is now part of a think tank somewhere. I want to be a part of a think tank that figures out why sleeping is necessary. Think (!) about it. You just lie there, inert, for six-eight hours a night. Weird. Anyway, that side of the family is impossibly intelligent and my side is impossibly funny. I'm glad I'm on my side.
Today at the local Village Inn, where there's no better breakfast in the world, Ron was looking at the estate sale section of the paper. He asked me I wanted him to go by himself. I drew back in horror and said that him going by himself to an estate sale would be like cheating on me. To which he replied, "No. It'd be cheating if I said I was going to Home Depot and I went to an estate sale instead." Hmmm. Guess he's got a point. So we BOTH went to two estate sales; one was really a glorified (and I use the term loosely) garage sale and the other was pretty uninspired. Except for the Harry Truman letter and photograph. The letter was about some Liberty Memorial re-dedication and was on sale for $295. The picture had a pricetag of $450. Pretty outrageous. BUT, in addition to having HST in the shot, there was also Pat Boone. I passed on both.
Last night, Ron and I watched "Been Rich All My Life." Absolutely priceless. It's about these five former Harlem showgirls who are still dancing. And they're all in their mid to late EIGHTIES! Simply amazing. All totally beautiful teenagers when they started and still feisty, with lovely legs. They're called the Silver Belles and in their prime they danced at the Cotton Club and the Apollo (and lots of other places). The oldest, Bertye, was 96 when the documentary was made, but had only stopped dancing the year before. She was a spitfire and cute as a button. On the marquee at one of the clubs they were referred to as "copper colored girls." Totally worth renting. Has some mild language, but it just kind of loses its punch when it comes out of a octogenarian's mouth.
Tomorrow's Monday . . . just another manic Monday.
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