Visiting Queen B

This past Sunday, my dad and I visited Grandma Rose.  Here's a few things about GMa:

• She lives at "Leisure World" in Rockville, MD.
• She's 103.
• She speaks with an affected accent much like Grace Kelly or film stars of the 40s-50s.
• She loves cruises (she once won damages when she tripped out of an elevator in her building, and paid for our first family cruise to the Bahamas).
• She has no chronic illness, but has started going blind and deaf.  She's 103...
• She remembers EVERYTHING.
• She loves Bingo.
• SHE'S 103.
• She still thinks my parents are still together.

Are you a first-time reader?  Here's a refresher course.  Parents = divorced since 2008 (didn't tell GMa b/c she was 98), GMa's now 103 -- parents still "together."

So my dad and I "drove" to Leisure World.  I'm going to use a loose definition of the word "drive," because I'm not sure it was DMV-standard roadwork, and there were numerous times I was scared for my life.  I guess as he's aged, my dad has a more "living life on the edge attitude!"  That, or he's blind and decides that highways are ONE BIG LANE!  It's the latter.

We get to LW, and they're having the famous "Sunday brunch."  My dad raved that the omelette man is top notch.  You can also tell that Sunday's are the most popular visiting day because nothing goes better with Grandparent criticism and disappointment than good lox.

We go up to GMa's apartment, and were greeted by Elena, one of my GMa's 2 caretakers.  I hesitate to say that because it seems like she's a total invalid.  No no, GMa is totally with it, and scoots on that walker, but she just needs some "Assistance."  GMa put in her brunch order with Elena who came back upstairs with an omelette AND danish.  I never thought I'd be jealous of a 103 year old woman, but she gets to eat ANYTHING SHE WANTS.  Omelette with cheese?  Sure.  Danish cut up into hand-to-mouth pop in pieces?  Of course!  A box of Valentine's Day chocolates?  Duh.  Meanwhile, I'm looking up the Weight Watchers points for hard-boiled egg whites (more on that).

GMa on her 15th course...

My dad explained to me that GMa now has this tradition for his weekly visits.  She makes him hard-boiled eggs.  This weekend, she made 4 -- 2 for Dad, 2 for me.  None for Elena... :(  I really don't think she gave a shit.  If only I could have captured Elena's reaction every time GMa claimed SHE cooked the eggs.  Any assistant in Hollywood knows that feeling all too well -- credit stolen by your boss for your hard work.  GMa proceeded to explain her unique recipe for making the eggs:

1. Boil a pot of water.
2. Place the desired amount of eggs in the pot.
3. Leave them in there.
4. Turn off the heat after they've finished.
5. Leave them in there some more.
6. Peel.
7. Serve.

I'm still waiting to hear what makes this recipe unique.

After lunch, we retired to the salon (which is conveniently in the same room), for "Letter Time!"  This is when Queen Rose's faithful servant (my Dad) opens her mail and explains the contents.  GMa was perched on her royal footstool:

"Mr. Bingly's having a ball?  How quaint..."

While they were conducting Royal business, (note: GMa won't touch such public items as mail with her bare hands!) I moseyed around the apartment.  And now, for your viewing pleasure, I present a few apartment gems:

The Royal Portrait

I mean -- Barbara Stanwyck, anyone?

The answer is "Yes."

Then there's my headshot:

From when I was in Todd Phillip's "Wasting Your Parents' Money on Booze & Drugs"

You can't tell, but my pupils are "Lick the bottom of an Amazonian toad" dilated.  Moving on to the portrait of the woman my GMa still believes to be her daughter-in-law, and me, when I was a JAP (May still be.  Probably am):

Cruisin' USA!  American Territories, and Properties Under Previous British Colonial Rule Now US Virgin Islands.

I told you.  We Birnbaums fucking love to cruise.  Not in a bathroom sex kind of way.  Well, I can't speak for all my relatives, but I think it's safe to say no... I think.  Probably not.  Maybe.

Oh, did I mention the Queen keeps up correspondence with another Royal Family?

Barack your 100 year old bod, girl! (Elderly woman.)

That's right, no big deal, Barack and Michelle just wrote a letter congratulating her for turning 100.  She didn't even write him a congrats note for winning either election.  Birnbaums: 1, Obamas: 0

Now.  My favorite.  Apparently my family starred in "Once Upon A Time in America," and no one told me.

"Leave the gun, take the challah."

This is my Dad's family.  See that "rotund" woman in the front.  That would be my Great Grandmother.  When I asked my dad what she was like, I just got a head shake and that sucking in noise when you stub your toe followed by, "Not nice."  Looking at the apparel of the time, it seemed like the men opted for the "Indoora" -- which is my name for the indoor fedora.  They also went against the "1 fedora per crew" rule.  But I wouldn't have brought that up, since I'd rather have survived the Seder.  OK let's zoom in:

Now that's the strained smile/scowl of the Grandma I know, and love.

As you can probably tell, I take after my Grandpa Jack.

Wait.

Wait.

Were you going to say I look like a middle-aged man?

Rude.

No.  It's because we both look fucking fantastic in hats.  (See above graduation portrait.)

And I have no clue who these relatives are, but I'm wouldn't want to get in a fight with them in a dark synagogue coatroom--

"Yous a wise guy, huh Rabbi?"

And one more:

Sweaty Palms > Love

UNTIL THERE'S A CURE -- WE MUST RAISE AWARENESS.

Hyperhydrosis is not a joke.

(Unless you're one of my friends or my mother.)

That's all from Leisure World.  Will probably have more to report when we inevitably go to one of our "Family Dinners."  Because she thinks my parents are still married.  And they're not.

FAMILY, AMIRIGHT?