February 1990 –
Sincerely Sire Newsletter
ASK ME
ABOUT MY POTS
Yesterday morning Roe (short for Rosemarie) and I were upstairs,
sitting
comfortably in bed, reading the paper. As usual she was drinking her
first of four, very strong cups of coffee, and I, as usual, was
drinking
a large mug of orange herbal tea.
The early morning is the best time of day for me, because I love
to read
the paper. I devour
it. Forget bacon and eggs, I eat the
newspaper.
First the sports section, then the business section, then the
world news,
then the Orange County news, then the view section, then the
entertainment section, and for dessert, the funnies.
Roe loves to read the paper too, however, she concentrates on
another
more esoteric section - - the ad section. Whereas I read the entire
paper and can't recall a single ad, she reads the entire paper and
can't
recall a single piece of news.
As a matter of fact, next time you see
her, you might want to tell her about the Berlin Wall, Panama, and
our
"new" leader, President Bush.
So anyway, this particular morning as I was reading about the
possible
reunification of East and West Germany, Roe bolted upright in bed
and
snapped her section of the paper wide open. "What!" I said.
"What!?" (I
don't like being bugged when I'm reading the paper.)
"Take a look at this!" she said, pointing to her
paper. I leaned over,
concerned that I had missed some big news. Well, I could see right away
that I had missed something big, really big. There it was, large as life
itself. . TWO POTS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE - Buy one pot, get one pot
free!
After I'd caught my breath and calmed down, I told her we really
didn't
need any more pots. But
she said, "No honey, I'm not kidding, I've been
looking for a Pot Sale."
She was so excited, I wondered if she'd been
waiting since birth, or just the fifteen years that we'd been
married.
I'm not exaggerating when I say that she dragged me off the bed by
my
ankles, to get me into the car, and down to Robinsons at Newport
Fashion
Island where the historic sale was taking place.
As we pulled into the parking lot, all I could see were cars,
thousands of
cars. "Are all these people here for the Pot Sale?" I
asked
incredulously.
"I don't know," she answered, as she stuck her foot out
the door of the
still moving car and skipped it along the pavement, "but I
sure hope
there are some pots left!"
Once inside, she found her way directly to the house wares department,
without asking for directions.
("Roe knows shopping malls.")
She had me thinking now, two pots for one, there must be a
gimmick.
We walked over to the pot display and we each picked up a
pot. I turned
mine over and found the price.
I was sure I had found the fly in the
ointment. "Hey, look
at this." I whispered to Roe. "This pot cost a
hundred dollars. What kind
of a sale is this?!"
But alas, I was wrong. The
salesperson was quick to point out that I had
the wrong pot. The pots
that were on sale were only $29.99. So
we got
two pots for only thirty bucks.
You should have seen her as she walked out of that store carrying
her bag
of pots. You'd have
thought she'd just stolen the crown jewels.
The
last time I'd seen that look was back in '74 right after I'd said
"I do."