Ring Ma Bell, La Jolie Grandmere
My parents were in town the other day and took me out to lunch. While at lunch the phone rang. Ordinarily, I will ignore or silence the call but I was awaiting the return of several important calls I had made earlier. I picked up my phone and when I did not immediately recognize the number, excused myself to my parents and answered the call. I apologized when I hung up after telling them who it was. I thought I was going to get to listen to a comment about my generation (my children's too, for that matter) and our disconnect (or over connect, for that matter). Manners were of huge importance in my family and I really knew better than to get that phone in ordinary circumstances. But my parents understood and a conversation about the youth and lack of respect was averted! Instead, I was told another very funny story about my grandmother.
My grandmother, La Jolie Grandmere, was (as you know if you are a regular reader of this blog) friends to many dignitaries, royalty, film stars, notable authors, scientist, cosmetic industry giants, just to name a few. Once I was born my grandmother traveled to the States a good bit to visit with my family. Often she would have lunch with my mother, often she would dine alone.
"Important" men would gather, dine and conduct business at their tables. If they were of real importance a telephone would be delivered to their table. This long preceded cordless phones and cell phones. To make such a phone call was quite expensive. It was almost always men who conducted such business back then.
My grandmother would always ask for a telephone to be brought to her table if she was out and dining at one of these upscale restaurants. If my mother was with her she would say "Linda, I'm trying to look terribly important. Who shall we call?" And then this terribly elegant and sophisticated woman would start to giggle. When my mother was not with her she would ring my mother up at work and quietly tell her, again with a slight giggle, that she was calling so that she could seem "terribly important!" This became a bit of a running joke between the two of them!
Even my grandmother knew not to take herself too seriously. My silliness was indeed inherited!
As a child I remember dining at a restaurant in the heart of the theater district called Ma Bells. There, there was a telephone at every table. I was fascinated!
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| La Jolie Grandmere, Cannes, circa 1970 |
My grandmother, La Jolie Grandmere, was (as you know if you are a regular reader of this blog) friends to many dignitaries, royalty, film stars, notable authors, scientist, cosmetic industry giants, just to name a few. Once I was born my grandmother traveled to the States a good bit to visit with my family. Often she would have lunch with my mother, often she would dine alone.
"Important" men would gather, dine and conduct business at their tables. If they were of real importance a telephone would be delivered to their table. This long preceded cordless phones and cell phones. To make such a phone call was quite expensive. It was almost always men who conducted such business back then.
My grandmother would always ask for a telephone to be brought to her table if she was out and dining at one of these upscale restaurants. If my mother was with her she would say "Linda, I'm trying to look terribly important. Who shall we call?" And then this terribly elegant and sophisticated woman would start to giggle. When my mother was not with her she would ring my mother up at work and quietly tell her, again with a slight giggle, that she was calling so that she could seem "terribly important!" This became a bit of a running joke between the two of them!
Even my grandmother knew not to take herself too seriously. My silliness was indeed inherited!
As a child I remember dining at a restaurant in the heart of the theater district called Ma Bells. There, there was a telephone at every table. I was fascinated!