A weird week: My Captor and I went to St. Petersburg for our niece’s law school graduation. So proud. But my computer didn’t make the trip. So my fault.
Couldn’t finish my post in progress, or send on usual timing, so how ’bout an Oldie and Goodie? And it is actually informational…
I have as many plans for the afterlife as for the here and now.
And the Nifty really does exist!
As I age – Medicare! – and head for the on deck circle of death, virtually all my bucket list items have been fulfilled:
Got my kicks on Route 66, played miniature golf with a midget caddie, suffered kidney failure on the AT, and had my head shaved by my congressman.
And had Beers at the Nifty.
But I’m also developing a bucket list for heaven: dinner with my in-laws at Fanny’s, a Braves-Cardinals game with The Dans, beers with my Mom around our old kitchen table – renewing acquaintances with those who have gone before. So lots to do, and lots of Heavenly IPAs.
But here on earth, My Captor and I were in Omaha for a family wedding, and out for a drive when the Nifty appeared just ahead.
The Nifty was/is a tavern, and the great white whale of my childhood; featured in multiple tales of my Father’s and Grandfathers’ ‘exploits’ on Sunday afternoons, when they would play the son-in-law/father-in-law card – – as in, I didn’t want to spend all afternoon at the Nifty but my SIL/FIL made me.
The Nifty was just a block from my grandparent’s house, so weaving distance. And apparently, back in the 40’s you could send your children there, and they were able to bring home a pail of beer, along with any missing SIL/FILs. So it had a real aura.
I wasn’t lucky enough to meet PJ, my Mother’s father, but I’ve heard a whole stack of incriminating PJ stories – many of which I’ve reenacted with my own embarrassing twists.
So, one of my first Heavenly activities will be to meet him and my Dad at the Nifty. Then on to the big band ballroom, to have a champagne cocktail (they look refreshing in old movies) and listen to Glenn Miller.
But back to present times: My Captor and I arrived at the Nifty!!!
The interior had been recently renovated and looked great. They retained the original bar, which was solid, and better yet, had a foot rail. We bellied up, ordered a beer (IPA on tap!), and began to gawk at our surroundings.
I made the bartender aware that he was now part of my bucket list and he was moved – I think he was hoping for a tip. Coincidentally, he remembered my Dad and had lived near him.
The waitress said she too remembered my Dad, and also lived near him. Everyone wanted a tip, I guess.
But the punch line came when their 2nd longest tenured patron (there were bar plaques for he and #1) arrived. He too remembered my Dad and was one of his tax customers.
That moment made me yearn for my father’s tax advice. When asked about any type of deduction he’d reply “Take it. Twice”.
I did wonder whether your name on a bar plaque was a good or a bad thing.
It was the best visit imaginable. We were sent out the door with Nifty napkins, coasters, and other paraphernalia, and best of all, a Nifty glass – which made me return the glass I intended to steal. So the Nifty really brought out the best in me.
But there’s a cautionary point to this tale – isn’t there always?
My parents were the most selfless people I’ve ever known, the ultimate personification of the “I’m going to do everything to make sure you have it better than I did” generation, and I’m left wondering if I ever properly expressed my gratitude.
‘LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH’ AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM OR THE OCCASIONAL LOCAL BOOKSTORE. A GRIPPING STORY OF FAMILY LOVE AND LOSS, AND RECOVERY.
Oldies are always goodies