IHOP Did Me Proud

IHOP Did Me Proud

Four score and five years ago today I was making my mother miserable for the first time. I was being born. Mother wasn’t supposed to have any more children because the birth of my sister three years before me had damaged her too much. But that didn’t stop me, even if I was a mistake and a mere girl to boot. I was supposed to be a boy, for goodness sakes. I did my best to turn into a boy, but it just didn’t happen.

Somehow at 85 years old I find I have survived childhood diseases like chicken pox, measles, whooping cough, lots of tonsillitis with ear infections, and the birth of three children. I lasted through quite a few repair-work operations that were mostly due to carrying too many chairs and TV sets up flights of stairs while moving to different houses when my husband was out to sea. The Hippie years almost did me in, but that finally all went away with time.

So here I am still chugging along half-way through my eighties, still living alone with a lot of cats and a big black dog, still driving myself around (knock on wood), and celebrating another birthday. I feel very blessed and just plain lucky, too. My daughter, Jane, and I thought of some doing kind of major outing like touring the U.S.S. Midway again. My husband was stationed aboard the Midway for a tour of duty shortly after she was launched about 1950. Now she is a museum tied up at the G-Street Mole at the foot of Broadway in downtown San Diego. It’s pretty strenuous climbing around a ship, and I have already done it once so I declined. There is a wonderful seafood restaurant next to her where we eat sometimes. I’m glad we didn’t do that but kept things simple. I didn’t get worn out, and Jane didn’t lose much time from the job she does from home on her computer as a medical transcriptionist.

Instead we went to IHOP that is attached to a new small casino on the adjoining La Posta Indian Reservation. We don’t even have to leave Indian land to get there when we go in the back way on dirt roads. They sure don’t waste any money on signs to direct you there even if you come the front way. You almost need an Indian guide to find it – the secret casino. From the outside it looks like a warehouse made of galvanized steel, but inside it is colorful, bright and friendly. There is a bar with four big TV screens attached to a stone fireplace situated right in the middle of the big gambling room. The restaurant we were aimed for is at the back, separated by a wall and a screen, so it is quiet enough to enjoy the pleasant music that is piped in to listen to while eating. 

The casino was pleasantly full of small-time gamblers; some brought in on buses. At the time we arrived at 3 p.m., the restaurant was about 25% full. The special was lasagna with a salad and garlic bread, but I was celebrating, and lasagna wouldn’t do it. Besides, I didn't have to pay the bill. My granddaughter, Penny, had given Jane money to pay the bill. Jane wanted only a chocolate shake and a hamburger that was served on a bun that looked homemade. I had a T-bone steak, done rare, and, man-o-man, was that ever juicy and good! Um-hum! And I had a nice meaty bone to bring home to Smoky Joe. It is his birthday, too. When I found him dropped off on a highway the vet said he was born about four months earlier in October, so I gave him my birthday.

I ate every bit of my dinner, and for dessert I had a huge chocolate sundae, compliments of the house. And to top things off, a quartet of great big Indian waiter guys with deep baritone voices, accompanied by our pretty little waitress, belted out a loud rhythmic rendition of Happy Birthday to me, and the waitress gave me a hug. I know I was supposed to be shy and embarrassed, but I wasn’t. I loved it, and told them so.

The whole affair took only about two hours, and was very enjoyable. I called my granddaughter and thanked her again. She and Ralph seem to think it is too far for them to come out here. I forgive her because she has had diabetes since she was four years old, and at 38 is in very poor health. She is legally blind. She never complains, but I know she feels ill a lot of the time. Also, I think they are both a little afraid of the wilds of this horse camp on the Indian Reservation where Jane and I live.

We came home and I gave Smoky Joe his share of my T-bone steak ,and he polished it off in short order. Now he is outside doing one more patrol of the perimeter to discourage the coyote that has been snooping around nightly as soon as we settle down to sleep.

I had a lovely day, starting with a trip to the library for six new books - three large-print and three recorded books. I gave a ride home to an old man I met at the library. Actually he is about 20 years younger than I am, but with his gray beard he looks older. He is a reading fanatic just like me, and we had a good conversation about our favorite authors and books.

Now, with a comfortably full stomach and pleasant thoughts, I’m headed for bed with a good book – as soon as I bring Smoky Joe back in the house. I hope when you get to be 85, you will be as contented as I feel right now. Good night and pleasant dreams to you all.