Lady Be Good to Me
I stand in solidarity with my fellow-sisters all over the world on this: a bargain makes my day. Or even my week.
We (of the sisterhood) know that feral impulse that overtakes us when somebody exclaims,"Hey, nice shoes." The unsolicited response leaps from our lips, "TJ Maxx, 12 bucks, clearance rack." What is really up with this?
As teenagers, my two sisters and I would take umbrage at our dear mom whenever she did the same. Of course, her clearing-houses were more like K-Mart ("blue-light special!") and a now defunct department store in Schenectady called "Two Guys". (that's TWO-guys, with the emphasis on the first syllable. Don't ask me why.) My grandmother would serve a platter of something delicious, accompanied with the proud announcment,"These vegetables came off the dead-cart." (The dead-cart is that rolling metal rack in the produce aisle which displays overripe fruit and wilted carrots. You know the one, we've all pawed through it.) I doubt she could've kept that fact to herself. To her, it was an integral part of enjoying the meal.
It is futile to squelch these little joys. If we (of the sisterhood) acknowledge the perceived tackiness of announcing the price of our find, we still whisper it to ourselves. It's ingrained. I had to invent news ways of spreading the joy when The Rich Lady came into my life. As my circle knows, I acquired closets and trunks full of designer clothing and accessories from a woman whom I never met. This was a perk of knowing her maid, whose task it was to disperse these things, which were one season "out of style". Out with the old, in with the new, said I. (And into the trash bin went 75% of my former wardrobe.) I am almost exclusively garbed by my donor, and the response to any compliment on my attire is invariably, "Got it from The Rich Lady."
That's yesterday's news. The ink is still wet on this one, though:
The other afternon, whilst antiqueing with my mom and children, I acquired a piece of sheet-music from the 40's; a stunning arrangement of Gershwin's Lady Be Good. Price: one dollar. Come on over, and I'll play it for you.
You wouldn't deny me spreading the joy, wouldja now?
We (of the sisterhood) know that feral impulse that overtakes us when somebody exclaims,"Hey, nice shoes." The unsolicited response leaps from our lips, "TJ Maxx, 12 bucks, clearance rack." What is really up with this?
As teenagers, my two sisters and I would take umbrage at our dear mom whenever she did the same. Of course, her clearing-houses were more like K-Mart ("blue-light special!") and a now defunct department store in Schenectady called "Two Guys". (that's TWO-guys, with the emphasis on the first syllable. Don't ask me why.) My grandmother would serve a platter of something delicious, accompanied with the proud announcment,"These vegetables came off the dead-cart." (The dead-cart is that rolling metal rack in the produce aisle which displays overripe fruit and wilted carrots. You know the one, we've all pawed through it.) I doubt she could've kept that fact to herself. To her, it was an integral part of enjoying the meal.
It is futile to squelch these little joys. If we (of the sisterhood) acknowledge the perceived tackiness of announcing the price of our find, we still whisper it to ourselves. It's ingrained. I had to invent news ways of spreading the joy when The Rich Lady came into my life. As my circle knows, I acquired closets and trunks full of designer clothing and accessories from a woman whom I never met. This was a perk of knowing her maid, whose task it was to disperse these things, which were one season "out of style". Out with the old, in with the new, said I. (And into the trash bin went 75% of my former wardrobe.) I am almost exclusively garbed by my donor, and the response to any compliment on my attire is invariably, "Got it from The Rich Lady."
That's yesterday's news. The ink is still wet on this one, though:
The other afternon, whilst antiqueing with my mom and children, I acquired a piece of sheet-music from the 40's; a stunning arrangement of Gershwin's Lady Be Good. Price: one dollar. Come on over, and I'll play it for you.
You wouldn't deny me spreading the joy, wouldja now?
posted by thisrequiresthought at 8:26 AM
4 Comments:
"'TJ Maxx, 12 bucks, clearance rack.' What is really up with this?
As teenagers, my two sisters and I would take umbrage at our dear mom whenever she did the same."
My mother has perfected this - even before we unwrap our gifts, she tells us when and where she bought them and how much she didn't pay for them =) ...it is my theory that mothers are compelled to comment on the store and price of every item bought, traded, or acquired.
"There is something to be said about you..."
Crazy is probably the word that most often comes to mind. But I liked your other choice better -- what was it again? Oh, yes. "...admirable..."
Definitely better. Much better. :)
Thanks, Nancy. You're always an encouragement!
i love you. oh. i love you.
"...amazing" works, too. Thanks again!
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