A little sidebar to the whole name thing, prompted by a comment from the empress. The Hubs has a cousin who is now I guess 40 or almost that, and her mother tells this story of how she got her name. She wanted to name her Allison, because her own mother's name was Alice, and she thought it would be nice. But it was the heyday of Peyton Place, and she was sure that in five years, every little girl in kindergarten would be named Allison, and she didn't want her daughter to have the most common name in school. So she thought of another name, a nice traditional one but not all that common, and that's what she named her.
Right. Jennifer.
I'm cooking on a little more Yiddish, too. I don't know what made me think of these in particular. The words for today are:
tsuris For when you've got tsuris right here in River City. Nobody knows my tsuris! (Or the tsuris I've seen.) Troubles, the aggravation that makes up my life, etc.
Tahke? Really? For real? You're not kidding? I would tell my grandmother, for example, that something good had happened and she would reply with raised eyebrows, "Tahke?" Something good was not likely to be, for example, an A on my report card. More like my sister was out on a date with particularly handsome (or in one case, wealthy) boy. Ida had limited expectations.
Shah! Another common Ida-ism, shah! is the Yiddish equivalent of Shh! But I usually heard it said sharply, probably because I was seven years old and wouldn't shut up until any random grown-up in my family looked at me in total exasperation and commanded "Shah!" And I would. Shah! meant no kidding, shut up. NOW!
Let me tell you about the class reunion this weekend. Oh no, not mine. I've never been to a class reunion; it's just not my thing. But the class of 1955 of Bizarro High School is having its gala celebration this weekend, and I am, as I may have mentioned, The Alumni Office. It started simply enough. As I do for any class reunion, I posted the dates on the alumni page of the website. Unusually, one day last year I was called to the principal's office (the now retired Psycho) and introduced to a gentleman who represented the class, and wanted to make some arrangements. The Psycho said that she would be unavailable on October 1 to take them on a building tour (because she knew she was leaving, but no one else did) and would I? Well, I like doing that so I said sure. I should have known something was up when the 55er recognized my last name, said one of his best friends in high school had an older sister who'd married a man with that name. Uh, yup, that would be the ILs, and it turns out that the Hubs' uncle was in the class of 55. And so it began. The 55 reunion committee began to email me from time to time with one request or another, because the Psycho had said to this guy as he left (and this is normal enough and not psycho) "Well, if there's anything we can do for you, let us know." I mean, anyone would have said that. But the 55ers, they believe it. Since then, they have requested, via email, among other things:
- That I post a list on the website of all the classmates they're still looking for. (Done, no problem.)
- That I tell them if any of their teachers are still on staff, and if I can get the addresses of all of their teachers, so they can invite them to the reunion. (What? Who the hell would be teaching for more than fifty years? And who would keep addresses from that far back, as if they'd still be living there?)
- Where does your husband's uncle live now? He's coming to the reunion, isn't he?
- That I provide them with the address of their former principal so that he can be invited. (He was my principal too, and he's wheelchair-bound in a nursing home. A lovely man. They are totally pissed off that he's not coming.)
- That I arrange for the band to play their class song, which I won't name here, but which is a song commonly associated with the city of New Orleans. (They began harassing me about this one a year ago.)
- That I arrange for them to get into the football game for free, and that they have a designated area for them in the bleachers, and that when their song is played -- by the band -- they all march onto the field together, as a group.
- Why won't your husband's uncle answer our emails? Can you make him answer?
- Their cheerleaders wore special shoelaces in school colors on their saddle shoes. Are there any of those still in the building somewhere, and if so, can they have them? We don't have them? Where can they get some? What do you mean, cheerleaders don't wear saddle shoes anymore?
- But why won't the band learn a song that isn't in their routine this year that they would only have to play once! Who can I talk to to make the band play our song?
- They want to give out a goodie bag to all the 55ers. Can I get school-imprinted pens and pencils from the Student Store that they can have for free? Even though it's summer, and they're out of them and the kids won't order them until September? Can I buy them some from somewhere?
- They need to park really close to the building because they're mature. Where can they park? They don't want to park in the regular lot; it's too far. Can someone open the locked lot for them that by agreement with the town can't be used on weekends? Who can they call? (They called the Chief of Police. He's opening it for them.)
- Really, I know your husband's uncle is retired and lives out of the country, but I really want to see him! Why won't he come? You can call him and tell him he has to come, right?
- They've decided to have lunch in the cafeteria. What do you mean, it's closed on Saturday? Okay, we'll have sandwiches brought in. You can provide us with cold drinks, right? Right?
- A recording? The band director is going to play a lousy recording of our song? It's not good enough, but it'll have to do.
- We don't want to sit in the bleachers after all. Can someone set up about 60 folding chairs for us on the edge of the field, you know, in front of the bleachers where the cheerleaders perform and where we can all get hit in the heads with footballs and sue your asses? Please?
- We are so disappointed that your husband's uncle isn't coming to the reunion.
- We're coming in tomorrow morning at 10:00 am to meet with your principal. (Uh ... wait a minute.)
- The principal is busy? Doing what, I'd like to know! (Uh ... why do you want to meet with the principal? "Well, I'd think he'd take an intere st in us, after all!" Yeah, well, he's running the school, the one we have now, the one with kids in it. You know.) This was actually a telephone conversation I had with the committee chairs this morning.
My guess is that these folks just had the BEST time in high school and that they think that somehow the building has been lying empty these last fifty years just awaiting their triumphant return. I always thought that people went to reunions to spend time with their former classmates. I never saw a group before as obsessed with the high school itself. Not to mention my husband's uncle, whom I did happen to see at a family function in the spring -- he comes back to the U.S. no more than once or twice a year -- and who told me IN PERSON that he's not coming to the reunion, which I've told these people. The principal, whom I think I will call for diary purposes Mr. Nice Guy, doesn't know what they want with him, and neither do I. They expect him to be there to host their grand celebration? Why? I think they'll be pissed off when I don't stay for the football game. (BTW, yay for our team! They actually scored last week, I think for the first time in two years. Not likely to be a problem finding seats in the bleachers. And all senior citizens get in for free.) As it is, I have to get there an hour early to put up signs on all the doors telling them where to meet because two-thirds of the current building didn't even exist in 1955 and they won't know. I'm waiting for them to tell me that they don't want to see any of the "new" part. So the tour will take ten minutes. That's how my weekend is shaping up, that and a wedding for someone in the Hubs' office on Saturday night. Oh yes, a big weekend for me.
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I'm watching Last night's shows on tape
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Sweet Sorrow - 06.12.2007
So ... - 12.19.2006
Christmastime Is Near - 12.18.2006
Fifteen Years - 12.17.2006
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