week 37/16

50 – 11 (Photo) Five Dollars

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Current Front. 2016

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Current Back. 2016

For anyone who’s already read the 11th reflection in my 50 series, this is a photo that I added to the original post.

The bills my uncles gave us when we’d visit were much different, but we spent those.

These are the current ones in circulation.

While still called paper money, they are actually printed on polymer or plastic. The five is the lowest denomination of paper money. There are $1 and $2 coins. They no longer use pennies.

Consequently, when we went out to eat, we were charged $94.23 if we used a credit or debit card or $94.25 if we paid cash. It took about a day to get used to.

50 – 13 – 337

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When I was in high school and for as long as it was on television, I was a tremendous fan of Matlock starring Andy Griffith. He played a Georgia lawyer who wore the same suit every day – three piece grey. That’s all he had in his closet for court.

Each show was some kind of a mystery culminating in a trial. I loved it. I’ve always been a big fan of mysteries and the law, so this was perfect for me despite my not exactly being in the demographic that it was aimed for.

One of those mysteries was a murder in a television studio. The victim queued up the VHS tape (yup, that’s how long ago that show was on) to 3:37.

It was assumed that the murderer appeared on the tape at the three minute, thirty-seven second mark. However that person had an alibi. It confused everyone until Matlock laid down on the floor under the VHS player and suddenly from the angle of the murder victim, instead of the numbers 337, it spelled out LEE. Lee was the murderer.

I don’t know why this always stuck with me through the years, decades even. I noticed when I was buying something and the total was $3.37. I think for a short while gas prices went up to $3.379. I would notice the time – 3:37pm.

My husband would point it out to me when he would see it.

It became my favorite number.

Well, about five years ago, I got one of those day planner books that listed the days of the year. January 1st was #1. February 1st was #32. March 1st was 60, and so on.

Out of curiosity, I thumbed through the whole calendar to my birthday, December 3rd to see what day of the year I was born on.

As it turned out, in non-leap years, my birthday is celebrated on the three hundred thirty-seventh day of the year.

My birthday is 337.

I was kind of astounded by the coincidence, but it was also one of those feelings that wasn’t deja vu, but it was special – that things are there and we need just to take a closer look at them; that some things mean more than they appear on the surface.

50 – 12 – Air Horns

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My family drove everywhere. We’d load up the car the night before, get up and pile in the car to leave at 4am, still in our pajamas. After about four hours of driving, we’d stop for breakfast and put on real clothes, then continue on our way. We went to Canada, Pennsylvania, Florida, Virginia. There were three of us in the backseat, and going there was more room than coming back. Canada had the duty free shop and my parents smoked. Coming back from Florida, we were covered in cigarette cartons and oranges because the prices were so cheap down south.

We played car games, like keeping track of the states on the license plates, car colors, signs, some magnetic games, anything to keep us occupied and not touching each other or breathing on each other.

One thing that we always did when we were kids were to get the attention of the truck drivers. My Dad had a CB radio so we talked to them and when we got their attention in person, through the window, we’d pretend to pull the air-horn.

They copied us and returned the gesture only they blew their air-horns and the regular truck horn.

It was fantastic.

I don’t think they do that anymore. While we were driving to Niagara Falls a few weeks ago, we told our kids to do that. The one truck driver who saw them waved, which was pretty thrilling in itself.

We would also moo at any cows we passed by. I’m happy to saw our kids think we’re dorks, but it’s such a good memory, I wanted them to have it as well.

50 – 11 – Five Dollars

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When I was a child, we traveled to Canada often; more often than most kids living in NYC and on Long Island. Our grandfather was born and raised there, so we would visit his sisters and their families as well as going on a summer vacation before returning to school in the fall. Not every year, but almost every other.

Every visit always included dinner at Old Ed’s Warehouse in Toronto. We’d all meet there – aunts, uncles, cousins. It was a fancy restaurant, and men had to wear jackets and ties. It was a steakhouse, and it was misery for my brother, sister, and I. Steaks. No hamburgers, even less chance of cheeseburgers, and absolutely no ketchup. I can still see my sister’s face when we found that out.

My husband and I continued that tradition when we visited Toronto before we got married. We visited my Aunt Goldie, and had dinner at Old Ed’s. It was different since I was ten – they had several sections of the restaurant – steaks, pasta, casual dining, etc. No jackets either. They are closed now, but they were a place that was part of my childhood traditions.

When I was a kid, everyone would gather on the street outside the restaurant in front of Ed’s. You needed reservations. We parked and waited for the rest of the family to arrive.

My aunts, Goldie and Janet were my grandfather’s sisters. He also had a brother, but we didn’t see him very often. I can only remember one time distinctly. Both of them had husbands named Joe. We found this funny. Two Uncle Joe’s. We also had two Aunt Shirleys, two cousin Sharons and more Davids than you could shake a stick at.
When Uncle Joe (Goldie’s husband) arrived he took each of us kids aside, gave us $5 in Canadian money for our own and told us not to tell our parents.

About five minutes later, Uncle Joe (Janet’s husband) took each of us aside, gave us $5 in Canadian money for our own and told us not to tell our parents.

The two of them shared a look and a wink, and the three of us each got $10 to spend on our vacation. I don’t know if my parents ever knew. We were Gerry’s kids, and he was there so often he was a favorite of the family and in addition to all the other ways, we reaped the reward of having a great Dad.

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The current $5 bill. Front. 2016

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The current $5. Back. 2016

50 – What Was I Thinking?!

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At the beginning of the year, I had this great idea for a series of posts. To celebrate turning 50 at the end of the year, I would post one reflection every week talking about the past fifty years in my life. Mostly anecdotes, memories that are always floating around in my head. I’ve posted similar ones before that I’ve tagged as “I remember” especially when my kids do something that reminds me of my childhood, like eating McDonald’s fries in the car or visiting Grandma, and you know the types of stories. Some would be longer than others, but they would all be meaningful to me, and hopefully encourage others to post and share their own memorable moments from their lives.

One a week was do-able and I’d have fifty by my birthday in December.

Well, here it is the end of summer and the early beginnings of fall. The kids are back in school, the choir is back at my church, I’m wearing my new fall jacket, and we actually went on a short vacation to Niagara Falls, both new family fun and memories come alive.

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Niagara Falls, as seen from the Canadian side, 2016 (c)

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I have posted ten of those fifty. Ten. With my birthday in less than twelve weeks, I can still make my goal of fifty by my birthday. I would have to post about three to four each week, but it can be done.

This has been a mostly successful year for writing despite falling off the motivational hamster wheel this summer, but I’m confident I can get this done. And getting this done is something that I not only want to do, I need to do it; for myself.

Setting goals and deadlines have always been issues for me. The anxiety kicks in and if I never finish it, it feels as though I can’t fail.

I hope you enjoy reading the forty remaining in the next eleven and a half weeks. I know I will enjoy writing them.