A New Pair of Jeans

I turned 14 in 1979. It was the end of the 70s and psychedelic clothes, but the beginning of big hair and $50 jeans. That might not seem like a big deal to you, but to me it was huge! Girls were wearing their jeans so tight they had to lay down on the bed to zip them up. There was no such thing as stretch denim then, at least not where I lived.

You know I grew up in small-town Utah. We had very few shops there and only a handful sold clothing (I think the IFA sold the most...). That is until the Pant House opened. Their place was small, one area of our tiny strip mall, but they only carried denim jeans and one rack full of tee-shirts. I would have done anything to own a pair of those fancy jeans! Including apply for my first job from a real and actual business.


Our town had three places that served fast food, Charlie's, The Malt Shop, and Taco Time. Everybody wanted to work at Charlie's, because he was a fun and awesome guy, and because unless people came in, employees didn't really have to work. Those lucky few could even study if it were slow.  The Malt Shop was clear across town nearer my grandparents' house and since I was too young to drive, it was out of the question. That left Taco Time.

Taco Time was only about a block away from my house and relatively new to town. I loved the food there. Every time I had extra baby-sitting money, I would walk over and buy a cherry-Sprite in one of their keepsake glasses. After several years, I had quite a collection!  Unfortunately, the guy who ran the place didn't like me...maybe because I was constantly harassing him about when the newest glass would be available.

But I sure wanted a pair of those awesome jeans, so on a Friday afternoon, I gathered my courage and my loose change (had to buy the latest glass) and headed over. I was nervous and understandably so. This guy had the reputation for making his people work and if they didn't like it? They were out of there quickly! Thanks to Grandma, I knew how to work, but I was still worried.

Mexi-fries are my favorite!

I placed my order and sat down to wait. I could see the manager in the back when his daughter handed me my soda. Usually I just left at that point, but on that day I sat down at one of the little tables instead. It wasn't long before he made his way to the front counter, a white rag in his hand, vigorously attacking every surface. He was a big, barrel-chested man with a funny name...and he scared me.

When he got to the front, he seemed to notice that I was there. "What do you want?" he was never great with the customers. Now I am not a timid girl and I wasn't then either, so I spoke up, "Are you hiring?" He sort of guffawed at me, "Who needs a job?" I lifted my chin and looked him in the eye, "I do."

He eyed me up and down, clearly remembering all the trouble I had given him. Finally he asked, "How old are you?" I was a little worried about this question, but I answered truthfully, "Almost 15." After all, it was November and I would turn the end of January. He must have thought that was OK, because the next thing I knew I was getting a lecture on how to be a proper employee. I don't remember most of it, but the last thing he said was that I could start the next day. Maybe he mentioned wages there somewhere, but if he did, I didn't hear it. All I knew was that I had finally found a job, and I was going to get my pair of pants!

It was "Wicked"ly Fun

Yesterday I told you about one of the cheapest family outings we have ever been on. Today I'm going to tell you about the most expensive one. In 2007 my sweetie was working an awesome job with good pay when he was asked to help a little start-up company with some hardware design stuff. This is not uncommon for us. We have had our own consulting business since 1994 and whenever he is approached, we set up a contract. The thing that was different about this one was the scope of the project and the fact that it appeared to have no ending date.

The money was awesome! So we started saving up for a real family vacation. Originally we had planned a trip to Wyoming with my sister to go whitewater rafting and to the Tetons. But then her MIL passed away and they cancelled on us. Two weeks before we were to leave, we decided that since we didn't know that area well enough to go alone, we would take the kids on a vacation they thought would never happen.

For years we had sworn off Disneyland as being too expensive and it pretty much is for a family of our size. But with the help of those CityPasses, we found something that worked within our budget. It just so happened that my BFF had recently returned from New York and couldn't stop talking about a Broadway show she had seen there. She recommended we try to find tickets in Los Angeles. I knew her tickets cost her nearly $200 each and that was not a possibility, but I had heard that we could see it cheaper on the west coast, so I hopped online.

I was so excited to see that Wicked was playing at the Pantages and even more excited to see that floor seats were $95. Now trust me on this one, I have never paid $95 for any show in my life, but after her gushing report and one from the Drama Queen who had also seen the show and brought the music back home for the kids to enjoy...yes, they pretty much knew the entire score by heart...I bought the tickets.

Poor Baby Scout...Missed being Wicked

Sweetie is a great sport!

The only problem was that at nearly 2, Scout was too little to see the show. That meant someone would have to stay behind at the hotel and watch her. My sweetie graciously volunteered except that meant we needed a way to get to Los Angeles. I certainly couldn't drive our big van and all the kids into downtown LA. We looked into renting a cab, but we would have had to take two of them because we couldn't all fit in one. Then someone suggested that occasionally you can get a limo cheaper than a cab for a trip that far and certainly cheaper than two cabs.

I started calling around. I finally convinced the All Star Limo Service that they could make the round trip from Anaheim to LA for $300. My sweetie and I decided not to tell the kids about any of this, so as they were packing, we told them to put in some nice clothes in case we decided to go out to a fancy restaurant.

Flash forward to the trip...we all got dressed up and headed to the lobby of the hotel. While we were supposedly waiting for my sweetie to come down, the kids saw this long black limo in the parking lot. They thought it was awesome and they wanted a closer look. Of course I played along and we stepped outside. The driver got out and opened the door for us. The kids were confused and totally started to head back into the hotel. That's when I told them that the limo was waiting for us.

They were so excited! And even more so when they found out where we were going. We absolutely loved the show, all of us. And even though the evening was Wicked'ly expensive (and will never happen again in this lifetime) it created memories that will last forever.

My First Concert

If you are a country music fan, you are so jealous of Teach and Princess today. They blew all their money on tickets to the Taylor Swift concert! I’ve already asked them to write a guest blog together for Saturday, so you can come back then and get the latest on the actual concert. But it got me remembering way…way…way back when I attended my very first concert.

My sweetie won’t like this post because it shows what a nasty, insensitive, little flirt I was when I was a kid, but it seems a bit timely, so I will share it anyway. You all know I grew up in a small town. We didn’t get many opportunities to attend concerts unless we wanted to drive for a couple of hours into the city and there was no way my dad was going to allow that. 

Mostly that didn’t bother me too much until my favorite group announced that they were coming to Salt Lake City. The year was 1982. I was 17 years old and there was nothing I wanted to do more than to see Air Supply in concert! Tickets sold out rapidly and everybody who was anybody was going. Except me. I could have bought myself a ticket, but even if I did, I had no way of getting there.

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Since I was currently between boyfriends, it seemed like a wise move to figure out which desperate guys had tickets and flirt shamelessly until I got an invitation. I finally settled on a guy friend who just happened to be the best friend of an ex-boyfriend. I was pretty sure I could convince him that he really wanted to take me to see the big show.

It took me about a week…ok…a little more than a week, and a little begging from one of my friends for his friend and we were set for a double date. Now I want to make it clear right from the beginning that these were NICE gentlemanly guys (a little geeky maybe) who were not expecting payback for their generosity. (And that’s a good thing, because they didn’t get any…)

They picked us up and we were joined by a third couple I didn’t know very well. The third guy was a student at BYU and we had dinner before the concert at his apartment. The guys tried so hard to impress us! They cooked steak and baked potatoes and corn on the cob. We were all dressed up in our concert finery and they couldn’t figure out why none of us would eat the corn. (Would you eat corn on the cob on a first date?)

When we were finished eating, we gathered up and headed for the concert. Honestly, I can’t remember much about the concert itself. I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it, but I think it would have been more fun if I hadn’t spent the whole time feeling so guilty.

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I wish I could tell you that it was the beginning of something, but it wasn’t. It was the only date we ever went on and it pretty much ruined our friendship. Not one of my finer moments.

Did you ever take advantage of a friend? Please tell me that at seventeen I wasn’t the only one with a lot of growing up to do…

Blow-out

**WARNING-  The following story contains graphic Mommy humor**

My kids are not the best-dressed kids in the neighborhood. Most of the time I let them choose their own outfits and they may or may not match. That said, when Baby Doll was born my amazingly cool and well-dressed sister-in-law gave her a darling red plaid dress with a matching Scottish-style hat from The Children’s Place. It was fully lined with a little silk slip, lace, ribbons; the works! 

Closest Bossy could find from memory

It finally fit this week and I was so excited as I dressed her for church. I started with a white turtleneck (the collar said "Broncos" but I tucked it on the inside so you couldn’t see it) and some tiny white tights. Then I pulled the beautiful fancy dress over her head and buttoned it up the back. I placed that round plaid hat on her head (she hated it, of course), and we were ready to go. She looked like one of those kids out of the portrait ads! Little did I know that I was in for no end of grief from my other kids. 

 

"Mom," the Prima Donna said, "that hat looks so silly!" 

From the Dog Walker, "You can’t wear a hat at church!" 

Even my little Curly, "She doesn’t want to wear that hat…let me wear it!" 

I ignored them all until the hat slipped down over her eyes and she began to squawk. It didn’t help that I pulled it off and threw it on the floor; she was inconsolable. So I took her out to the nursing room and gave her some milk. When she was totally sacked out I took her back in the chapel so that maybe I could hear a little bit of the meeting I was missing. She was sleeping soundly on my shoulder as I walked back in. Friends and neighbors smiled at her sleeping form, mouthing, "She’s so cute…" We headed for our traditional spot on the back row. 

As soon as we sat back down her little blue eyes popped open. I thought maybe she was looking for her hat, but no such luck. Now I’ve been around the block a few times, so I know a "blow-out" when I hear one. I frantically looked around for the diaper bag. Of course it was all the way down on the end of the row in the corner where my hubby was hibernating. By the time I got his attention, Baby Doll had gotten the attention of the entire back three rows!

I finally received the required gear and headed once more to the nursing room. If I received sympathetic looks, I didn’t see them. She was still pooping and I was walking as fast as I dared without running. I knew there wasn’t an extra outfit to change her into and I really didn’t want her to ruin this expensive little dress after wearing it for only half an hour. I laid her on the changing table and sure enough, the tights and the little turtleneck were covered. 

Not actual blow-out

I slipped the little red dress over her head in a vain attempt to keep it clean. That’s when I noticed that there appeared to be an extra piece of fabric hanging down from the back of the skirt. It was still partly attached with those little plastic hangers from the store. It’s a good thing I’m not smart enough to know that all fancy dresses come with bloomers, because wearing them as an extra layer under her skirt worked pretty well. The dress was fine, but I think the kids may have tossed the little hat in the Lost and Found when I wasn’t looking. I haven’t seen it since.