I’ve been running into a lot of ancient cuties lately. I can’t control when I see a dapper elderly person. They just show up like a ten dollar bill on the sidewalk.
My dog, Louie Siegel aka Louie Gossett Jr. aka Pocketbook aka Polkadot, and I, were almost finished with our daily walk around the reservoir when I came upon this vision in lime green.
One of the only times I can legitimately smile is at old folks so I flashed my ivories and was planning on walking by until I noticed her ill steeze. Who do you think you are, Mary J. Blige with that hat slung low over one eye? (She had just had cataract surgery.)
Her name is Ruth and she has always worn hats. Eighty years of hats.
Ruth moved to LA in 1952 from Germany. Let me get an online calculator and run some numbers: 57 years she’s lived here, came to America at 23 years-old just after World War II.
The hat was her mother’s. I’m thinking, will you leave it to me in your will or just give it to me now?
Ruth is no fool, either. She bought her home as soon as she moved to the US and it has become prime real estate. She said she ain’t ever gettin’ rid of it. Will you leave me your home, Ruth, my love, mein liebe? Or just give it to me now?
