This is an excerpt from my upcoming book I Loved Those Pants.
That's my grandfather and me. We played checkers a lot. Every once and a while I would win, I'm sure that he let me win, but I never questioned it, because when I'd win, he'd ask for a rematch. Anything to keep playing checkers with my Pa-Pa. I have a lot of regrets when it comes to things I never did with my Pa-Pa, a good example is that after my first daughter, Victoria, was born, I did not take her by to see him at the Veteran's Hospital where he had been for the previous 5 years. I didn't take her because I was afraid that with all the germs there, my newborn would catch something. My reasoning was sound, I understand that, but less than two weeks after she was born, my Pa-Pa passed away.
It's a regret that I will live with all my life, no matter what. I'm not sure if I'm upset that he didn't get to see her, or that she didn't get to see him, no matter, I'm upset, and will carry that forever. Over the past four and a half years, I've accepted that I can't change the past, but it doesn't mean I have to like it, either. I've also come to realize that my Pa-Pa provided me with some of the best stories, better than ones I could dream up. Today I will tell you one of those stories.
You see, when my sister or I would be allowed to go over to my grandparents for a weekend, it was indeed a treat, for we knew that after that Friday night slumber, there were toys to be bought the next day. My grandparents spoiled us to the point of being ridiculous. I didn't mind. The routine for me was fairly usual. I'd get to go over around Friday evening between 6 and 7, depending on when Dad got home from work and after that, if I hadn't ate they would most likely order pizza1. I would often ride with my grandmother to get the pizza because my grandfather was in a bowling league that played on Friday nights.
After we ate, I took my bath and got into my pajamas, if timing was right I got to watch a little of the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. I remember being away from the living room and hearing the theme from the show playing and I knew that I needed to hurry and get back so I could hear his monologue. I never understood half of the jokes, I was too little, but I knew that my Pa-Pa would usually laugh, and every so often there would be that one joke that would make his eyes water from laughing. As with most people, I was sad when Johnny retired because I knew that no longer would I get to experience those moments, but I digress.
When I was younger my grandmother (or as we called her, Ma-Ma) would lay down with me in bed and read me one or two Dr. Seuss books (she read Green Eggs and Ham especially well). Sometime after I fell asleep, she left me alone to dream. I remember when I was a bit older, either she didn't leave or I slept with my grandfather. They had stopped sleeping in the same bed due to the fact he would involuntarily kick during his sleep. I was lucky, I must have been too short, as I never got kicked. Upon waking, I would smell bacon, I believe there were eggs too, but I know there was bacon and biscuits. I would walk out of the back bedroom, into the living room and see my grandfather with his TV tray in front of his recliner. I can't remember for sure if he would have bacon and eggs, but the item I remember being there on the tray was a small glass (very small) filled with orange juice. He had an affinity for these small glasses that were previously jam or jelly jars, a couple of them had Tom and Jerry on them. I liked that.
After saying my good morning to my grandfather, I made my way into the kitchen to say good morning to my grandmother, who would reply with a hug and a kiss. She would tell me to go into the living room and she would bring me some orange juice. Even then I didn't eat breakfast, and they knew that. I'd go back into the living room and sit or lay down on the couch, my grandfather would get up and change the TV to cartoons for me. They still had a console TV that had to be operated by hand. I was often the remote, but that made me feel important so I was a little depressed when they got a cable box that had a remote. After a little while of watching TV, about the time I would hear my grandfather turn on his cordless electric razor, I would go change clothes. It took my grandfather and me all of 10 minutes to get ready in the morning. I love my grandmother, very much, but she always did one thing that I never understood, and neither did my grandfather - but he never said anything about it. She would get her hair perfect before we left the house, our destination was the beauty salon. Maybe it's like brushing your teeth right before going to the dentist. At any rate, after she was ready, we would leave.
We would all load up in the green Ford Grenada, which had a distinct smell, it was a combination of my grandmothers perfume and the freon which I suspect was leaking slightly. It was intoxicating, I almost didn't want to leave the car upon arriving at the local mall. This particular instance, my grandmother, before leaving us alone to go to the JCPenney beauty salon, gave my grandfather instructions that he needed to look for school clothes with me. It was weird, usually when they bought clothes for me (birthday, Christmas), I wasn't present, this was a first - and later we'd find, a last. As we walked into JCPenney with my grandmother, she bid us good luck and took a right at the jewelry counter, and we took a left, towards the boys section. After looking at a few shirts, pants and jackets, my grandfather, who hated shopping for clothes as much as I did, asked me if I found anything I liked. I did see something. My friend Tyler had a pair of pants that were multicolored, and I loved them. I thought I could pull off that look too, and to my surprise, there were a pair of long jean shorts - black, blue and yellow. I showed them to Pa-Pa, he gave me the green light.
After rejoining my grandmother and doing more shopping (I'm sure they bought me a toy, but this story is about the pants) we ate lunch at Grandy's. My grandfather was cutting my chicken fried steak and I vaguely remember a conversation about the pants. While my grandfather and I knew the pants were a great idea, my grandmother had doubts. Later that afternoon when my parents came over to pick me up and I showed them my pants, I believe the phrase "Are you kidding?" was spoken several times. It didn't matter, I loved those pants. I wore them until I couldn't squeeze into them anymore. I believe it was the next Christmas Eve, which were spent at my grandparents house, the topic of the pants came up. When questioned about why he bought the pants for me, he smiled and said "I liked them."
To this day the pants will come up in conversation. As with most legends, I don't remember what happened to the pants, I think they ended up in donation bin or a garage sale. The legend of the pants however, will be with me forever.
