Classy

Anonymous writes about how she remembers Nana as “classy” and she was definitely that. But my favorite memory…OK, just one of my favorite memories of her was when we had first moved to Manhattan Beach and she had come to spend some time with us. (It was only a two bedroom house so I imagine that she slept on our couch.) My sister Julie and I had gone out with my red wagon to collect bottles for the refunds. Yes, littering has a long history in California. Anyway...somehow Julie and I had managed to attract the attention of some older kids and if I remember correctly, they wanted our bottles, or we had been poaching bottles on their turf. The resulting argument soon grew more heated and my thoughts turned to flight, so Julie and I raced home with our wagon, the other kids following close behind. As we approached the house, Nana stormed out the front door, in her housecoat, with her long hair flying and she began to yell at the kids, as she picked up the garden hose and turned on the nozzle. “Shoo! You kids, shoo!” She had saved us! Now that was classy…