So my Mom came to visit this last weekend for the first time since I've moved to Los Angeles. It was great to see her and spend some time with her. For such a big city I do get lonely, so it was really nice to have some family come visit- to share my little slice of the world. We met up Friday for dinner, sharing recent life stories over wine and dinner. Saturday I took her to a Dodgers game (with my newfound Dodgers connections we had great seats, Field Level right behind home base). My Grandfather was a minor league catcher, plus she had a huge crush on Mickey Mantle back in the day, so she's always been a huge baseball fan (why else do you think I'm such a huge Yankees fan?). After the game I borrowed her green thumb to help me with my plants, as well as adding a Jasmine vine to my "garden." Later that night we headed out to check out Iron Man at the Arc Light. Sunday we went to the Getty Center for an early brunch and mimosas. We then took the garden tour, and checked out two photo exhibits. I can't believe it was my first time at the Getty (but most certainly not my last), it was stunning. Afterwards we took the long way home; Mulholland Drive then onto exploring Franklin Canyon (a nice unexpected discovery). After driving through Rodeo Drive we headed back home to check out the First Annual Los Feliz Street Fair. All in all a very nice weekend with Mom.
I love my Mom cause she's Super-Mom. She was the Mom that would always have orange slices at half-time for your soccer team, volunteer at your school tag sale, have waffles and bacon ready in the morning after sleep-overs, or buy you books on poetry and juggling just because you showed interest in it. Shes always been super-supportive, and is probably the most selfless person I've ever known. On her flight over here she gave up her upgraded first-class seat to an armed forces member who was sitting in the middle-seat near the very back of the plane. She carries dog treats in her car just in case she runs into somebody with a dog on the street. She's probably one of the best cooks ever, and if I have a friend over for dinner she'll always remember their dietary restrictions, and use them in considering the night's meal. But while it's her kindness and caring that I will always love about her, I think I love her free-spirit even more. She grew up a Tom Boy in a small town in upstate New York, climbing trees more often than playing with dolls. When she was older she got around on a motorcycle, and still has a scar on her leg from it.
My favorite story happened when she was working in the City (New York, in case you thought there was another city out there) as a secretary. The firm she was working for had more employees than they needed, so started releasing people. But since she was such a good secretary they didn't release her, and instead they floated her around the company to various employees. During one shift she was given to an employee who she happened to be seeing for almost a year. A handsome 6'5" or so fellow, who had courted my mother ever since the prior winter, when they had met during a snow storm. She was answering phones when a woman called to leave a message for Mr. 6'5", and not just any woman: his wife. She promptly left a LARGE sheet of paper on his desk with the words "YOUR WIFE CALLED- SANDRA PORTER. 12:05AM" (or whatever time the message was taken). Heart-broken she decided she needed to skip town- her home state of New York- and flee to Aspen, Colorado. Her boss was puzzled and concerned. "You don't know how to ski," he said. She responded, "I'll learn."