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Oh, Shenandoah! I Long to See You!
May. 8th, 2018 08:49 amMaryAnn and I are cohosting a party for Max on Saturday, so she and I have been in daily touch.
The party keeps growing. It dawns on me that maybe one of the reasons Madeleine and Isabella have sworn off marriage is because they don’t want their mother involved in planning their weddings.
“I am really confused,” MaryAnn said. “Now Max is telling me to back down because he doesn’t want his housemates to feel ‘invaded.’ His word!” MaryAnn sounded as though she was going to break into tears.
“That is just weird,” I said. “Particularly since having a party at his house was his idea in the first place.”
“Yeah. Well, I don’t think he thought about what all goes into having a party. The set-up, the cooking, the cleanup. That means we have to invade their kitchen. And it’s true I've never felt like I can walk around that house without his housemates staring at me suspiciously.”
“Well, Boomer Woman,” I said, “You are personally responsible for the rape of the economy, the despoliation of the planet, and the fact that so many virtuous Millennials are forced to seek shelter in their parental units’ crassly furnished basements.”
###
Looooong travel day. For me, “travel insurance” involves imagining absolutely everything that can go wrong on in vivid, technicolor detail, not once, not twice, but many, many times. Sadistic Southwest baggage handlers; engine-heat-seeking Canada geese; terrorists – I have them all on a continuous playback loop inside my brain. That way, I get the full karmic value of all that suffering without any of the practical inconveniences!
I was really exhausted by the time I arrived in Oakland. I was toting the Art Installation on the plane, so I’d checked my other suitcase, and it took forever for that weird conveyor belt carousel thing to begin burping up checked bags. Plus, some dude was playing this flute right next to the baggage carousel, and he wasn’t a bad flute player, it’s just that he only played one song over and over and over again, which was, Oh, Shenandoah, I love yer daughter-r-r-r-r! Oh, Shenandoah! I long to see you!
“When my suitcase finally showed up, I wanted to bash him over the head with it,” I told Max when he and I finally connected.
Max cocked an eyebrow. “You couldn’t just ask him nicely whether he knew any other songs?”
Uh oh, I thought.
And it got worse! We got slightly lost on the way to Eleanor’s house. Even at high noon, I have a terrible sense of direction, and it was dark. So, I wasn’t exactly sure where “550” was on Vernon Street; it was on the corner, that I remembered, but on the corner of Moss or the corner of Santa Rosa? Max was getting a little exasperated. And I could been equally exasperated because Max had borrowed a housemate’s manual clutch and the car kept stalling out – personally, I drive manual clutches perfectly well on hills, thank you very much! – but I chose not to become exasperated.
“I should have taken a cab,” I grumbled to Eleanor when the Art Installation had been bestowed, the farewell kisses exchanged, and the kid pushed out the door.
“People don’t take cabs anymore in the Bay Area,” Eleanor told me. “They take Ubers or Lyfts.”
“Non-unionized scum,” I said. “I thought when he said, ‘I’ll pick you up!’, that meant that he would be waiting to welcome me on the other side of the security gates with a big bouquet of roses.”
“People don’t do that anymore, either,” Eleanor said. “The parking situation is too crazy.”
“Why do people live in the Bay Area then?” I asked.
“Combination of great weather and inertia,” Eleanor said. “You know, Vivian once told me that you breeder types have three distinct developmental phases: There’s the pre-breeding phase when you’re very selfish and self-involved because everyone is selfish and self-involved when they can be. Then you have kids, and their needs come first! Then the kids move out. And you can go back to being your pre-breeder self.”
“Vivian is a wise woman,” I said. “I don’t think Max would like me very much if I weren’t his mother.”
###
“Well, we can hang out before Friday,” Max said as I was pushing him out the door to Eleanor’s apartment. “I mean, I am very busy, but we could –“
“Oh, no, no, no,” I said. “No. I figured you’d be very busy, so I planned a bunch of stuff. I’m having dinner with my best friend from GSPP tomorrow night –“
“Barbara Angel?”
“No, Barbara Angel was my best friend from nursing school. I’m hanging out with her Wednesday. Though my best friend from policy school was also a nurse and is also called Eleanor. I guess you were both named after Eleanor Roosevelt, is that right?” I asked the Eleanor – my best friend since college – in whose guest room I’m staying.
“I was named after my great-aunt,” said that Eleanor. “I don’t think she was named after Eleanor Roosevelt. We are talking Alabama here.”
Max frowned at me. “Why do you have so many best friends for all these various sets of circumstances? Why can’t they all just be friends?”
“Uh – it’s a survival strategy,” I said. “I figure wherever you are, it’s always good to have one person who has your back, you know? Who has your back not because they necessarily agree with you but ‘cause of loyalty and all that shit, you know?”
Max opened his mouth to say something disapproving, so I gave him an enormous hug and pushed him out the door. “Thank you so much for picking me up! It’s so wonderful to see you! I am so excited about Friday! By the way, your stepmom is gonna be calling you tomorrow about the party on Saturday, and you might want to be extra nice. I think her feelings are a little hurt because she's going to a lot of trouble and she's not feeling appreciated -- "
The party keeps growing. It dawns on me that maybe one of the reasons Madeleine and Isabella have sworn off marriage is because they don’t want their mother involved in planning their weddings.
“I am really confused,” MaryAnn said. “Now Max is telling me to back down because he doesn’t want his housemates to feel ‘invaded.’ His word!” MaryAnn sounded as though she was going to break into tears.
“That is just weird,” I said. “Particularly since having a party at his house was his idea in the first place.”
“Yeah. Well, I don’t think he thought about what all goes into having a party. The set-up, the cooking, the cleanup. That means we have to invade their kitchen. And it’s true I've never felt like I can walk around that house without his housemates staring at me suspiciously.”
“Well, Boomer Woman,” I said, “You are personally responsible for the rape of the economy, the despoliation of the planet, and the fact that so many virtuous Millennials are forced to seek shelter in their parental units’ crassly furnished basements.”
###
Looooong travel day. For me, “travel insurance” involves imagining absolutely everything that can go wrong on in vivid, technicolor detail, not once, not twice, but many, many times. Sadistic Southwest baggage handlers; engine-heat-seeking Canada geese; terrorists – I have them all on a continuous playback loop inside my brain. That way, I get the full karmic value of all that suffering without any of the practical inconveniences!
I was really exhausted by the time I arrived in Oakland. I was toting the Art Installation on the plane, so I’d checked my other suitcase, and it took forever for that weird conveyor belt carousel thing to begin burping up checked bags. Plus, some dude was playing this flute right next to the baggage carousel, and he wasn’t a bad flute player, it’s just that he only played one song over and over and over again, which was, Oh, Shenandoah, I love yer daughter-r-r-r-r! Oh, Shenandoah! I long to see you!
“When my suitcase finally showed up, I wanted to bash him over the head with it,” I told Max when he and I finally connected.
Max cocked an eyebrow. “You couldn’t just ask him nicely whether he knew any other songs?”
Uh oh, I thought.
And it got worse! We got slightly lost on the way to Eleanor’s house. Even at high noon, I have a terrible sense of direction, and it was dark. So, I wasn’t exactly sure where “550” was on Vernon Street; it was on the corner, that I remembered, but on the corner of Moss or the corner of Santa Rosa? Max was getting a little exasperated. And I could been equally exasperated because Max had borrowed a housemate’s manual clutch and the car kept stalling out – personally, I drive manual clutches perfectly well on hills, thank you very much! – but I chose not to become exasperated.
“I should have taken a cab,” I grumbled to Eleanor when the Art Installation had been bestowed, the farewell kisses exchanged, and the kid pushed out the door.
“People don’t take cabs anymore in the Bay Area,” Eleanor told me. “They take Ubers or Lyfts.”
“Non-unionized scum,” I said. “I thought when he said, ‘I’ll pick you up!’, that meant that he would be waiting to welcome me on the other side of the security gates with a big bouquet of roses.”
“People don’t do that anymore, either,” Eleanor said. “The parking situation is too crazy.”
“Why do people live in the Bay Area then?” I asked.
“Combination of great weather and inertia,” Eleanor said. “You know, Vivian once told me that you breeder types have three distinct developmental phases: There’s the pre-breeding phase when you’re very selfish and self-involved because everyone is selfish and self-involved when they can be. Then you have kids, and their needs come first! Then the kids move out. And you can go back to being your pre-breeder self.”
“Vivian is a wise woman,” I said. “I don’t think Max would like me very much if I weren’t his mother.”
###
“Well, we can hang out before Friday,” Max said as I was pushing him out the door to Eleanor’s apartment. “I mean, I am very busy, but we could –“
“Oh, no, no, no,” I said. “No. I figured you’d be very busy, so I planned a bunch of stuff. I’m having dinner with my best friend from GSPP tomorrow night –“
“Barbara Angel?”
“No, Barbara Angel was my best friend from nursing school. I’m hanging out with her Wednesday. Though my best friend from policy school was also a nurse and is also called Eleanor. I guess you were both named after Eleanor Roosevelt, is that right?” I asked the Eleanor – my best friend since college – in whose guest room I’m staying.
“I was named after my great-aunt,” said that Eleanor. “I don’t think she was named after Eleanor Roosevelt. We are talking Alabama here.”
Max frowned at me. “Why do you have so many best friends for all these various sets of circumstances? Why can’t they all just be friends?”
“Uh – it’s a survival strategy,” I said. “I figure wherever you are, it’s always good to have one person who has your back, you know? Who has your back not because they necessarily agree with you but ‘cause of loyalty and all that shit, you know?”
Max opened his mouth to say something disapproving, so I gave him an enormous hug and pushed him out the door. “Thank you so much for picking me up! It’s so wonderful to see you! I am so excited about Friday! By the way, your stepmom is gonna be calling you tomorrow about the party on Saturday, and you might want to be extra nice. I think her feelings are a little hurt because she's going to a lot of trouble and she's not feeling appreciated -- "
