#124 — DEAD OR ALIVE
A Bloody Good Life Lesson after Bloody Marys with Grandma
Sometimes you just have to sit a hand out
“Take my picture,” Grandma said, holding up a bloody mary. “I’ve never had a drink this early in my life.”
It was 11:30ish am. We were in Harlem at Sylvia’s for a gospel brunch, 1998-ish. My cousin Scott and his wife Katie had come to Manhattan for a long weekend, and somehow they’d manage to trade in their baby daughter for our Grandma Bunny.
It was her first trip to the Big Apple. She was 81 years old, and arguably in better shape that any of her 4 daughters.
The five of us (Scott, Katie, my partner Larry, Grandma and myself) spent a good couple hours eating, laughing, and enjoying the gospel music and soul food. We learned she had a crush on Perry Como. “So handsome,” she cooed dreamily, sipping on her bloody.
We joked how she always won at cards and that anyone who never lost must be cheating somehow.
“Cheating is the excuse of the less skilled,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “We playing Euchre tonight?”
We took the subway back from Harlem to my Chelsea apartment. The A-train was bustling, so our gang of five had to split up. I rode home next to Grandma.
