Tuesday, June 25, 2019


My son was down from LA recently, and he and a friend told me they'd take me to a speakeasy.  I didn't know there were any of those left--I thought they'd gone out when Prohibition was upended.  But it sounded like a lark, I made reservations for dinner at a restaurant afterwards, and we took off for downtown. 
After we parked, and approached the speakeasy, I noticed a huge line in front of it. We hadn't made a reservation, so we just decided to see if we could get in before our dinner reservations.  When we told the woman taking our information that we just wanted one drink, she said, "one and done--we can probably fit you in before 5."  We did get in; it looked like a specialty high-end liquor store, but we were told to sit in some chairs in front of a bookcase, and the whole scene revolved and revealed a huge bar filled with people.
We were given a table, and my son was impressed. He told me that when he had come with friends they had just had to stand at the bar.  I told him when he travels with me, we go first class.
I was glad I had looked at the extensive menu online before we went or I would have been hopelessly lost. My son and his friend ordered the same drink, and I noticed that theirs were in small glasses with the largest ice cubes I'd ever seen, so it looked like there were two or three sips of liquor at the most.  After we had our drinks, we left by a back passage, but I was never particularly concerned about whether we would be raided.  One of my sons-in-law was supposedly scandalized that I would go to a "speakeasy;" it was a clever idea that seems to have caught on in a number of places, but it was actually quite tame.
It's just the rebel streak in me that doesn't mind shattering preconceived ideas that others have about me.  One of my daughters told me that since I am living alone some of the time, I should probably have one of those things you hang around your neck that are advertised with a person on the ground and a bubble saying, "I've fallen and I can't get up!"
I know that's a possibility--for anyone--but I don't feel old enough to need one.  So instead I went out and ordered a pair of roller skates.  I told my daughters that when I was younger I skated every other day, and I can even remember
skating with my husband when I was about 5 months pregnant with our youngest daughter.  I was looking for a different form of exercise than just walking.  Ah, they are a beautiful pair of white skates, and I took them out on our sidewalk in the back yard for a spin.  I made it up to 11 laps, with numerous falls (the sidewalk is not nearly as smooth as a roller rink), and as one of my daughters reminded me, the baby with whom I was pregnant is now 30 years old. My skates are still sitting in the front closet, though my children did give me an Apple watch for Christmas, and I discovered that if I fall while I'm wearing it, and can't respond, it will call 911 for me.  Maybe I will take those skates out and try again!