Kate's Perspective | |
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Thursday, August 15, 2002
Shortly after I arrived in Kodiak, I was invited to a summer solstice celebration at a camp in Pasagshak. The crowd included a couple who arrived on motorcycles—motorcycles I was pretty sure were British. (As a kid, I spent a lot of time at the races with my dad, a vintage British bike enthusiast, so my eye is pretty sharp.) The man was wearing a BSA T-shirt, which confirmed my suspicions, so I asked him about his bike. We got into conversation and I told him that my dad was into the Brit-bike scene too. The classic question followed: “Who’s your dad?” (Really, I’m not making this up!) Thinking the question a little silly, since I was about 3500 miles away from home, I answered tentatively, “Snuffy Smith?” I thought Bill was pulling my leg when he said, “Really? Snuffy Smith? THE Snuffy Smith?” Apparently, Bill spends the dark Alaskan winters reading motorcycle literature and had run across my dad’s name once or twice. When Dad came to visit later in the summer, Bill had a bike waiting for him and they explored every inch of the island together. Dad invited Bill to give him a call if he ever found himself in PA, so Dad could return the favor. Naturally, this has become a favorite story in the family. So anyway, in October of 1998 I left Kodiak. It was a difficult decision to make—entangled as it was with choices about commitment and lifestyle—and I didn’t expect to keep up many of the friendships I had made there, because of the distance. But last week, Bill called! He and Lisa are traveling around the country in a van, their bikes in the back, researching Lisa’s book about motorcycle culture. Dad made good on his invitation and took them to the races. Then they joined us all for dinner at my parents’ house and I got to hear the news from Kodiak.
Sometimes, you can come home again. Tuesday, August 06, 2002
"Do you sing?" No.
In case YOU have not heard of Kate Smith, here's the brief version. She was a famous singer (in the 40s and 50s) who gained a special place in the hearts of Philadelphians because she brought luck to the Flyers (in the 70s) whenever she sang "God Bless America" prior to a game. In fact, for most of my life, I have not been too put out when people tease me. I even have enjoyed my borrowed fame. It's only recently that I've been growing weary. I think it's because I've decided to change my name to Kate Young after the wedding. But ANYWAY, today, I heard my all-time favorite Kate Smith story. A co-worker just put two and two together, and it reminded him that when he was a kid, his grandparents owned a cabin on Lake Placid. Kate Smith owned a camp nearby. As kids, George and his cousins liked to take the boat out and try to catch a glimpse of her. When I asked if he had ever succeeded, he replied, "well, you know she was not a thin woman, it was pretty hard to miss her!" Kate Smith eventually sold her camp to Telly Savalas and the kids were even more intent on skulking about the property for a glimpse of its second famous owner. Excellent! Six degrees of Kate Smith gets me to Telly Savalas! Sunday, August 04, 2002
So at about 9:45, we hit the bar. Meg had made me a snazzy veil, consisting of a ribbon-wrapped headband with a curly ribbon-y train. In her goody-bag she also had a candy necklace (to tempt young men into taking a bite from my neck), a jump-rope (for me to entertain the crowd), some Altoids (purpose unknown, unless she meant for me to freshen up before making out with strangers?? or before going home to John??), and a list of embarrassing stunts for me to pull. I was very well behaved, however, and didn't do any man-hunting. Mindy joined us after her weekly gig at the Dilworthtown Inn. She had left a bouquet of pink roses and a bottle of champagne for us to enjoy before she arrived. I had to fight off a chick who wanted to dance with MY bouquet! It was really beautiful, and made me re-think my whole flower theme.... but I guess it's kind of late to make any major changes to my plan. A table of 4 guys was right next to us, conveniently enough, and once they got a view of my gorgeous friends, they were begging for invitations to the wedding. I told them I want a microwave for a gift, and said I'd let them know if any openings in the guest list should appear. We danced, and I accepted drinks from strangers. Two couples were sitting together nearby-- they were both about my parents' age, and they sent me a drink. It turns out their wedding anniversary is the same day as my birthday (August 20) and I think they felt like their money was extra-well spent once we discovered that coincidence. I paid my respects to the band and announced to the waiter and any other interested parties that I will soon be off the market.
I have always felt that Vincent's was a safe place for me to experiment-- it's where I had my first experience with crossed-eyed drunkenness (yes, my own) and where I dared (the only time in my life) to give my phone number to a stranger. It's also the place where I first brought John. The owner, Bruce, sat him down and gave him a stern talking to (something along the lines of-- hey Mr. Big City New York, if you think you can just waltz in here and turn our Kate all starry-eyed I will have you know that she is a class act.... ). Once the lecture was over, he decided John was okay and next thing I knew he had opened a bottle of champagne in our honor. We closed the bar that night-- I think it was 4:30 am when we left. So, it seemed to fitting to make Vincent's the site of transition to the next big phase of my life-- married woman.
The band tried to end their final set without Play that Funky Music, and I had to call in a favor as the bride-to-be to get them to stay on another 5 minutes and play it. In the end, it was a perfect evening. It's so very rare to get exactly what you want, and Friday night was extra special because I got it. Tomorrow night I am celebrating my last night on the town as a single chick-- I know there are still a few Friday nights between now and the wedding, but this is the last Friday night performance of The Power Trio at Vincent's, in West Chester.
When I moved back to West Chester 3 years ago, I had just left Hawaii (the third stop on my 7 year tour of the Northwest) and I knew very few people in my old hometown. I also had just taken a job that left me alone in an office with a computer and a telephone for weeks on end. My friend Mindy introduced me to Thursday night jazz at Vincent's, and I looked forward to it each week (at first mainly for her company!). ...And then we began going out on Friday nights, too, when The Power Trio was in town. The musicians are the best-- Johnny de Francesco, Paul Klinefelter, and Glenn Ferracone-- and in fact, Paul and his wife Terry are part of the trio we've hired for the wedding.
So that's where I'll be on Friday. John is busy thinking up household chores for the evening-- he'll be at home, respackling the living room ceiling and restringing the shades in the bedroom.
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