Recently I had the absolute pleasure of taking a trip to Madison Wisconsin to visit my 98 (count it NINETY-EIGHT) year old grandmother, Ruthie. Because of the pandemic, everyone’s busy lives, and the fact that we live about 2,000 miles apart, this was the first time I’d seen my Grandma in person in three years. Obviously, it’s always special to get to spend time with a grandparent but getting to talk to Ruthie as she approaches the big triple digit really got me thinking about how much talking to older folks absolutely rules.
I have many stories about my grandparents but I prefer to talk about Ruthie. Besides being my friend's mom, she was my boss (Pizza Wagon) and my longtime fellow Brewers fan (in opposition to the Cubs and Dodgers fans in her midst). It was wonderful how she shifted roles when I was in high school. During my shifts at the Wagon, she was a strict boss. After finishing she'd invite me to sleep over so I didn't have to drive cross-town in the wee hours, then make me breakfast. Best job and boss I ever had. Also, one of the best people I've ever known!
Will, this is a really lovely story. I knew both of your grandparents and, of course, your dad. We lived on 58th and Nash just around the corner from your grandparents. As children your dad and I occasionally played together. I think Tommie was excluded but not sure. As we grew up I was also a part of the many teenagers that frequented The Pizza Wagon. Great times, wonderful memories.
Oh, man, you are in the will now! Of course she spent everything on your dad and his two siblings (damn Boomers, once again sucking up all the resources) so you’ll be lucky to get a book of matches from the Wagon and some unopened hard candies from Sees. But you’ve earned points in heaven, where your grandpa is waiting for Ruthie so she can once and for all answer the question that echoed through our house every time we had some family function to go to: “Ruthie, where the hell is that tie?” You know, like she automatically knew which of his six dozen ties he was talking about. And, weirdly, she always did.
I spent many happy hours at the Pizza Wagon. Great pizza and great people.
I have many stories about my grandparents but I prefer to talk about Ruthie. Besides being my friend's mom, she was my boss (Pizza Wagon) and my longtime fellow Brewers fan (in opposition to the Cubs and Dodgers fans in her midst). It was wonderful how she shifted roles when I was in high school. During my shifts at the Wagon, she was a strict boss. After finishing she'd invite me to sleep over so I didn't have to drive cross-town in the wee hours, then make me breakfast. Best job and boss I ever had. Also, one of the best people I've ever known!
Will, this is a really lovely story. I knew both of your grandparents and, of course, your dad. We lived on 58th and Nash just around the corner from your grandparents. As children your dad and I occasionally played together. I think Tommie was excluded but not sure. As we grew up I was also a part of the many teenagers that frequented The Pizza Wagon. Great times, wonderful memories.
So happy for you to have that amazing opportunity
That is so beautiful.
Especially love this one. (And not just because I'm a fellow History major!)
Oh, man, you are in the will now! Of course she spent everything on your dad and his two siblings (damn Boomers, once again sucking up all the resources) so you’ll be lucky to get a book of matches from the Wagon and some unopened hard candies from Sees. But you’ve earned points in heaven, where your grandpa is waiting for Ruthie so she can once and for all answer the question that echoed through our house every time we had some family function to go to: “Ruthie, where the hell is that tie?” You know, like she automatically knew which of his six dozen ties he was talking about. And, weirdly, she always did.
Wonderful!