Lifestory #25 --- WE WILL ROCK YOU

I am listening to the Superbowl theme music as I sit at the computer and write this entry. I am not a football fan and I have no intention of watching this game tonight, but it does remind me of a life story that is related.

Those of us who have lived overseas and been regarded as expatriates for any length of time are familiar with losing touch with our culture fairly easily as we get wrapped up in the culture of the country in which we are living. In one instance, I remember answering a phone call at 2:00 A.M. Indonesia time one January when I lived in Indonesia sans TV and listening to some excited guy talk in detail about some Super Bowl game that had just ended while I wiped the sleepy dirt from my eyes and then gained enough sense to ask him why he had originally called. It was about some embassy thing that had nothing to do with the Super Bowl!

But this story is about another time and place. It was January 1971 and we were living and working in Palau, Micronesia before we had children. We were on a month's leave and had just returned to the United States for some R & R after two years of being away. One of our stops was in Fort Lauderdale, Florida where my husband's parents lived. Hubby's parents were typical of many American parents of that time a la Madmen. Elderly, back slapping, cocktail drinking and proud of their son's accomplishments. It was a bit intense for me as I grew up on a quiet farm in Colorado. But I took deep breaths and did my best to be a good daughter-in-law.

During the time there was much reminiscing and my father-in law mentioned an old friend of his that really wanted to see my husband. He explained that the guy had done very well in business and actually owned several race tracks and a Jai Alai stadium in the area. He insisted that we take an afternoon and stop by the friend's office. My husband didn't remember this man very well, but to appease his father he agreed.

We drove somewhere outside of Fort Lauderdale to a rather simple but large, white, cinder block building in an area of town that looked much like the type of places disreputable people hang out in those Miami Vice episodes. When we told the secretary we had an appointment with her boss she showed us into his office. The first thing I saw was stuff and more stuff. Piles of papers, boxes, the entire room was filled with stuff and crap and not at all what one expects in visiting a millionaire's office. The working desk was piled high with even more stuff. The man, whom we will call Mr. X to avoid any lawsuit from remaining relatives, sat behind this desk and would have been easy to miss if we had been standing further away. He was short but weighed at least 300 pounds and his age was hard to determine from my inexperience as a 25-year-old.

I don't remember much of the meeting as it was mostly about hubby's youth and the good old days. The meeting lasted maybe 20 minutes, and as we got up to leave, Mr. X reached into a drawer and handed hubby a small envelope. It was a gift, he said, hoping we would enjoy our stay in Florida. Hubby took the envelope and shook his hand and we returned to the car.

As we sat in hubby's parents car which we had borrowed, we opened the envelope and inside were two tickets on the 50-yard line to the 1971 Super Bowl in Miami. This was Super Bowl #5 for those of you who know your football history. Neither my husband or I were the best recipients for this gift as during that time we were not big football fans although hubby has become a bigger fan over the years. We went to the game, enjoyed the game, but all I really remember is crying when they played the National Anthem as I had not heard it in a long time.

I think this is what they call looking a gift horse in the mouth even though we did not question his generosity. Today, of course, we would know better.