Note: My roommate is my daughter, Norah, who moved home this year to save money for England. We live in Birmingham, Alabama much of the year and in LA during the summers.
***
A conversation on the changing of the clocks and time and farmers…
“Tonight is daylight savings. We change the clocks.”
“Oh, it’s on a Saturday this year?”
“It’s always on a Saturday night/Sunday morning.”
“Well, how would I know that?”
“Because they wouldn’t have daylight savings on a weekday in the middle of the week when people have to go to work..”
“Well, my birthday has been on a Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and in fact, my birthday has been on every day of the week, so how should I know when daylight savings is. It could be any day of the week to celebrate daylight savings.”
“We don’t celebrate it. We just do it. How can you not know this?”
“What do you mean how can I not know this? Why would I know this?”
“Because it’s always been on a Saturday night/Sunday so people can sleep in or catch up or whatever.”
“Oh.”
“So we lose an hour this weekend. Spring forward, fall back.”
“You know what? They shouldn’t have daylight savings at all. It’s for farmers. They should cancel it once for and all.”
“You know what? I completely agree.”
***
But I kind of love that she didn’t know. How many more times will she not know something that is just a given of random adult life? Her first day in Alabama (I had lived here a year before she joined me at the age of eleven) my friend Nancy arranged for her to meet a girl her own age for lunch.
I said, “I’m taking you to Zoe’s in Homewood to meet a girl named, Eleanor, for lunch.”
Norah said, “Why would I have lunch with someone I don’t even know or have never even met?”
I said, “Because that’s what you do. You have lunch with a new person once in a while, and once in a while, you become friends.”
She and Eleanor hit it off immediately and had a sleepover that night at Eleanor’s house. They decided they were soulmates and birthday twins. Eleanor’s birthday was December 21st and Norah’s December 23rd, and weirdly, Nancy, the matchmaker’s birthday was December 22nd.
The next day, after the sleepover, Eleanor’s brother, whom they called “Brother” when to the Piggly-Wiggly to get them donuts. Later, Norah told her sister, Lucy, “Yeah, I stayed the night with Eleanor and Brother went to the Pig to get donuts.”
Alarmed, Lucy said, “Put Mom on. Who is Brother? What is the Pig?”
Those were the early days in Alabama.
***
Throwback song of the week that somehow popped into my addled head as it was my father’s 85th birthday on Thursday. He’s confused these days longing to coach the defensive secondary for the Dallas Cowboys and eager to get to work and often talks of his travels to Virginia. He hasn’t left San Diego since 2017 except for a trip to LA.
It’s our new normal, but he knows all the players in his NFL coloring books and the teams they played for. He wants me to contact the NFL for him and write more NFL coloring books.
I play along, and it’s why I am moving back to LA in May to teach at UAB online this fall and be closer to my parents this coming year and live with my husband again after ten years of this back and forth life.
Knock Three Times
“Knock Three Times” was one of my father’s favorite songs, and I can still see him playing the A side of the 45 record on our old Yamaha stereo. We kids danced with him knocking “three times” and “twice on the pipes" in Ames, Iowa where he was coaching for the Iowa State Cyclones or sometimes he and Mom danced on the shag rug and we watched. Last Christmas, while discussing this memory, my sister said, “That is the weirdest song. Can you imagine? Something sooo creepy about a guy knocking on the pipes or the ceiling for a date.” And this of course made me laugh, but my sister always makes me laugh.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wT5ms2Nvpco