By Vicki Scott
Every week, my husband Alan and I discuss what we have planned for the weekend, which is usually nothing. For the past seven months, we’ve been cleaning out houses and investing in over-the-counter pain killers and hot pads to help us sleep. To be honest, that is what I’m doing. I do not think Alan feels pain or needs sleep. This weekend included the same plans for nothing until I saw an advertisement for the Downtown Chief in Gadsden. The restaurant had entertainment where the singer looked like he played Alan’s kind of music. We decided to postpone cleaning houses and check out the concert.
We arrived a little early and were seated toward the back. The man who was scheduled to perform was pacing the floor in preparation to go onstage. He seemed nervous. We ordered our food and enjoyed conversation and people-watching.
The nervous performer, however, had most of our attention. He finally made his way to the stage and started singing. It was mostly Alan’s choice of music until he sang “Stray Cat Strut,” a song I remembered from my high school days.
Being a cat person, I would like to think I have an idea of what a stray cat strut looks like. A guy from my graduating class sang that song in front of the school while playing the drums. It was a shock that he could sing that song while playing the drums, but he always made everyone laugh and did a good job. I heard he is a judge now, but I would not recognize him if I saw him, because that was almost 40 years ago! I’m glad I still have “cat class.”
The next morning, we planned to clean and have family over, in that order. The cleaning part was so in-tense that when the family arrived, there was no food! I then remembered I did not invite everyone. This was not on purpose, which I explained to the person I forgot to invite. When I finished explaining, I asked if he would bring some food. I was joking, but it helped soften the mood.
I praise God that my family has not held me accountable since my mother’s death. We just laugh at my mistakes and go on, so imagine my surprise when we had to figure out another way to get food to the house. Our daughter and her husband ended up going to one of our favorite local restaurants. I still cannot believe how fast time got away from us. It was comforting when they laughed at us instead of getting frustrated. I think – or hope – that they understood.
I mentioned that they got us some food; they actually bought Alan some food because I still had leftovers from Downtown Chief. It was a lot of food and I could not eat it all. This was odd thing, because I can eat a lot. I could not finish it at this sitting, either. This is not a complaint.
I finally finished my left-overs on Sunday afternoon. I do not remember having leftovers from a restaurant that lasted three sittings, but here we are. I was a cheap date last weekend.
My only problem was when I either threw my hip out or aggravated my bursitis. Whatever it was, my hip hurts. I guess I am now at the age when I do not have to do anything strenuous to hurt myself. In my head, however, I still feel that stray cat strut; it just hurts too bad to show it.
Stay safe, y’all, and take it easy. Life is too short to hurt yourself!
Contact Vicki Scott at firstname.lastname@example.org.