Surprise 78th Birthday Trip

We flew to San Francisco for Lunch

Although she loved geography,  my mother hadn't traveled much until I began to take her on trips whenever I could in the 1980s. I wanted every birthday to be special for her.

~Daughter, Morgan St. James

On her 78th birthday I told her I was taking her to lunch, but we had to leave early.

She questioned why that was necessary, and I came up with some BS excuse because I had a very special lunch planned for her. Little did she know that we were flying from Los Angeles to San Francisco for lunch at Fisherman's Wharf. I knew she loved Chinatown, too, so after that I planned to go from the Wharf to Chinatown, do some shopping,  finish with and early sushi dinner at Yamato's Restaurant on California Street in Chinatown, then fly back to L.A. 

Yes, I know sushi and Yamato's are Japanese, but the restaurant actually was in Chinatown right across from a McDonald's restaurant I'd decorated. Because I made several trips to San Francisco related to decorating McDonald's restaurants back then, I'd become friends with the sushi chef. No matter how much time went by between visits, he always greeted me as "Decorator Lady from McDonald's" and made special dishes for me. I thought she would enjoy that.

As we headed for LAX, she asked where we were going, and when I pulled into the airport she said, "Honey, are we going to the Theme Restaurant?" That was a big Space Age looking restaurant at the entrance to LAX.

I shook my head and said, "Good guess, but no. I know you've only been to San Francisco a few times and loved it, so I thought it would be the perfect place to have lunch."

Her eyes widened. "Lunch? We're going to fly to San Francisco for lunch? I can't believe it."

"Believe it!"

In her circle of friends it would have been a rare occurrence for someone to fly to San Francisco just for lunch and I knew she'd really have something to talk about at the Senior Center. Tears filled her eyes and she told me how special I'd made her birthdays. Her 75th was a weekend spent in Las Vegas with VIP treatment from the general manager of the Flamingo Hotel, 76 was New Orleans where she was up on stage dancing with the club owner (see the chapter in "Can We Come In and Laugh, Too?" for that story).

We caught a cab to the Wharf and  walked around, watched the seals and walruses on their platform in the bay, peeked in shops and generally had a great time. Then it was time for our Crab Louis at Alioto's on the world renowned Fisherman's Wharf. I joked that the restaurant was almost as old as she was--not quite, but almost. Mom was born in 1909 and  Alioto's had opened in 1925. She was in "seventh heaven." With lunch finished, we walked to the cablecar stop and I helped her hop on a cablecar, Destination: Chinatown.

After an afternoon of walking around--she was a great walker, better at 78 than me at 48--we went to Yamato's where I hoped my friend the chef would offer his normal greeting. The minute we appeared in the entrance he called out, "Greetings pretty decorator lady from McDonalds. And, who this beautiful lady?" (referring to Rosetta). I introduced her as my mother and he raved about how much he liked making special dishes for me. Mom was beaming.

She'd never had sushi but was ready to try it and he prepared a feast. After that day she asked if we could have sushi on several occasions. It didn't matter how old Rosetta got, she was always game to try something new. Maybe that's where I get the spirit of always being willing to  try new things. However, if she didn't like something, she didn't forget, either. Once I recommended a restaurant and she said she'd eaten there twenty years before and wouldn't go back because the service was awful. 

After being catered to by my friend, the sushi chef, we took a cab to the airport, and that's when I got a big surprise. Our return tickets were gone! I dumped the contents of my purse on a counter, but there were no tickets and the flight we'd planned to take was sold out. I told them we had reservations, and the agent actually saw the bookings, but without the tickets we were out of luck. I had no idea what had happened, unless I'd somehow dropped them and perhaps two people were enjoying a free flight to L.A.

We had the agent check other airlines and found we could buy tickets for a flight that was leaving shortly on the old commuter airline Air Cal. Mom and I hustled to their terminal only to discover a long line waiting to check in or buy tickets. We begged people to let us through the line so we could buy tickets for the flight in time to board it. Mom smiled sweetly as I pleaded.

Maybe it was her snow white hair or her captivating smile, but whatever it was, everyone let us get in front of them until we reached the front of the line. We just made it onto the flight and when we landed in L.A. she gave me a hug and said, "I can always count on you for something unexpected for my birthday. I love you, honey." That was worth everything! 

CAN WE COME IN AND LAUGH, TOO? is filled with humor and inspiration -- stories covering everything from growing up in as the youngest of ten children in a zany, early 1900s family to using laughter to get through some of the curves life threw her way. Thousands of copies have delighted people all over the globe. Why not get your own copy or give it as a gift. Available in Kindle and paperback. Amazon Select members borrow it FREE.

ROSETTA LOVED SINGING THE FUNNY SONG "I'M AN INDIAN"

Rosetta at 93

Rosetta loved to sing and she had a very good voice. Combine that with her sterling sense of humor and imagine her performing in a show at the local Senior Center.


She was about 82 or 83 when her neighbor Jean Williams, a flamboyant woman of about the same age who ran gambling junkets to Las Vegas, invited her to do a number in one of the shows put on at the Center. Despite her age, Rosetta was always game for most things. She decided to do a funny number, but what could it be? 


Then she remembered one of her favorites--an old Fannie Brice number called, "I'm An Indian." It was a lesser known song that told the story of little Rosie Rosenstein, a Jewish woman who fell in love with an Indian chief and became a squaw. What could be better? Not only was it a funny song, but it lent itself to a great costume. My sister and I had loved to hear her sing it through the years, and now she was to perform it on stage accompanied by another senior playing the tune on the piano.


Rosetta dug out a blanket that sort of looked like an Indian pattern and made herself a headband with a feather, then practiced her dance moves. Even though she was in her eighties, Rosetta had some good moves left in her. Hours were spent rehearsing in front of a full-length mirror, singing: "Look at me, just look at me, I'm what you call an Indian, that's something that I never was before. One day I met an Indian chief named (she called him Itchka Mahogna) and right away he took me for his squaw. He wrapped me up in blankets, put feathers in my head. Between the blankets and the feathers, I feel just like a bed."


Click HERE and you can hear the original Fannie Brice rendition of the entire song.


Finally she was ready to do a test run for Jean and me. She nailed it, Jean gave it thumbs up and the audience loved it. Rosetta was in her glory. She smiled and said, "Now I know what it feels like to be a star."
                                             Morgan St. James, daughter


Enjoy Rosetta's stories in CAN WE COME IN AND LAUGH, TOO? She takes you from being the youngest of ten children, born in 1909, through 1989 when she wrote her memoir. Even when life got rough, her laughter and spirit carried her through. The book has been call funny, inspirational and delightful. A book by an ordinary woman with the extraordinary gift of making people believe in themselves. REMEMBER, Amazon Prime members can borrow the Kindle edition free.

WHEN ROSETTA WAS IN HER MID-80s, SHE REJECTED A SUITOR WHO WAS "TOO OLD"

He was too old for her!

Up until the mid 90s Rosetta was a familiar face in the Pico/Robertson area of Los Angeles. She never learned to drive and went everywhere by foot or bus. Occasionally, she would spring for a taxi. Until she was nearly 89, most mornings she  walked from her apartment at Sherbourne near Olympic to the shopping area on Pico--about a mile walk each way. It was good aerobic exercise, and probably contributed to her good health and youthful attitude.

As Rosetta took her daily walk, always with that great smile lighting her face, she frequently stopped to chat with some of the many friends she'd made along the way. By the time she was 86, it seemed as though one older gentleman waited  in the same spot every morning until she passed 


Finally one morning he struck up a conversation, then walked along with her. After several mornings he asked her out for dinner, but made the mistake of calling it a "date." Much to his dismay, she said she just wanted to be friends. Undaunted, he still waited for her every day. At last she agreed and they had their "date."

It was hard to hold back my chuckles after I asked, "Mom, you said he's a nice guy. I never hear you talk about him anymore."

"Well, honey, he's just too old for me. During dinner he me told he's ninety. Okay he still drives, goes to the gym every day and is a fine-looking fellow--tall and erect with a good head of silver hair, and he's really funny, but what do I want with an old man? She lowered her voice, "Besides, I think he's looking for a sex partner. So, it was a dilemma. You see, I'm too young for him, but I'm too old to be anyone's sex toy."

The poor old gent continued to hound her to no avail. That's all for today. Thanks for following this blog. ROSETTA'S DAUGHTER, MORGAN ST. JAMES

 Love Rosetta? Read her funny and touching memoir. CAN WE COME IN AND LAUGH, TOO?

Excerpt from CAN WE COME IN AND LAUGH, TOO?

Via Photoshop Rosetta was the model for Flossie Silver
 and her own father (at about the same age) the model for Sterling Silver
 in the Silver Sisters Mysteries

CAN WE COME IN AND LAUGH, TOO?

Our household was strictly Orthodox Jewish, which included several traditions. I learned to read Hebrew at a very young age and my father would settle back in his favorite chair while I read the Hebrew newspaper to him. Now that I’m old, I can’t read a word of Hebrew. I can’t explain why that is, but as an adult I definitely didn’t get involved in religion much. Maybe that’s why I’ve forgotten Hebrew, but I can still speak Yiddish.  When I do go to temple, it is either Conservative or Reform and I usually only go on the Jewish High Holidays. After my sister Jean and my brothers got married, my sister Edna and I were the only ones still at home and we knew we wanted to be part of the modern world.

My father was a very kind, gentle person and had a great sense of humor. Mama loved to laugh, but not like my father. She was much quieter. He did all the grocery shopping because my mother never had a chance to get out of the kitchen. Cooking for at least twelve people every day was a full-time job. 

FLYING TO FLORIDA IN THE 1940s

Rosetta's mother and sister Jean in the 1940s in Florida

Every year Rosetta's brother Al made it a point to send his mother Mathilda and his sister Jean to Florida during the harsh Chicago winters. Jean was eighteen when Rosetta was born, and as the oldest of ten children she had been a little mom to several of her siblings. Jean's help made it easier for her mother to care for so many kids, and Al always treated her as a second mother.

Traveling by air in the 1940s  was far from the norm, but Al knew the trip by train had become very taxing for his mother. Although it was extremely expensive in those days, he convinced her that it was the only way to go. He drove them to the airport and as they sat in the passenger area waiting to board the plane, Mathilda was mentally prepared for the adventure of actually flying through the air.

Mathilda, a very little woman, was small but mighty. To give you an idea, Jean was only five feet tall, and you can see how much shorter her mother was.

However, there was a young couple also waiting to board the propeller plane that day, and the young woman was absolutely terrified.

As Rosetta related the story, even though Mathilda spoke very little English, she approached the young woman and with Jean's help got her message across. Essentially it was:


"I'm an old woman and I'm not afraid of this newfangled contraption. You are a young beautiful woman and should be fearless, but if it will help, please hold my hand. I will give you some of my courage."


In later years, the roles switched and Jean became the one taking care my Grandmother. Both of them lived into their 90s while Rosetta's father died in the 1930s. It is no mystery where Rosetta got that indomitable spirit. Although her mother was generally a very quiet woman, there was an underlying strength and she passed it along to her ten children. When Rosetta was still alive, she said their father, my Grandfather, had a fantastic sense of humor and that was why the family was always laughing, regardless of the situation, and the neighbors asked if they could join the laughter. Rosetta got the best of both. Her mother's gentle strength and her father's humor.

Read her stories in "Can We Come In and Laugh, Too?" Over 6,000 copies downloaded since May. Also available in paperback.

A FAMILY PARTY PACKED THE PEOPLE IN

THANK YOU TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE BOUGHT "CAN WE COME IN AND LAUGH, TOO?"

In this photo Rosetta is sitting in the front row. Her mischief-maker brother Phil is right behind her, wearing the paper crown.


Back in 1920, there was a really large family in Chicago. It is amazing how they managed to fit all of those people into the apartment. Of Rosetta's seven brothers and two sisters, all but Jean (who is standing by the piano) were absolutely zany. Jean was reserved. Maybe that was because she was the oldest and had helped raise so many of them.

A family party was no small affair. The laughter resounded through the building, and the neighbors always hoped they'd be asked to join in.


Rosetta was eleven when this Halloween party photo was taken. To the right you can see the huge mirror where her brother Meyer  experimented with stage makeup day after day while he practiced different characters. His big desire was to be a stage actor. Her brother Charlie would probably be playing the drums in another part of the apartment, and Rosetta said she never knew what kind of character makeup Meyer would be wearing when she got home from school. 


Meyer didn't make it as an actor, but according to her brother Al, Meyer did wind up playing the coronet with one of John Phillips Sousa's bands for a year before going into sales. Many of the brothers played an instrument and  Rosetta shared the banjo with her sister Edna when they got older.

RESPONSE TO KINDLE PROMOTION OVERWHELMING

Rosetta is on TOP-Again!

Rosetta Schwartz 1909-2006

That's her at the top of the heap back in in the 1920s during a day at the beach. Her sister Edna is the one on the left.


The response to the free Kindle edition of Rosetta's memoir on June 6-7 was overwhelming. In two days nearly 5,300 copies were downloaded followed by many more people buying copies from Amazon for only $2.99.


Rosetta almost made her 97th birthday, but If she had lived long enough to see this response and realized how many people will now read her stories and tell their friends and relatives about her book, she would have been ecstatic. After all, when she was approached and asked to write about her life, her answer was, "But I'm  not a writer, Honey."

Oh yes she was. The book came about because I turned one of her favorite phrases around and used it on her: "You can do it." And, she not only wrote Part I of the book, she did it with a flair for comedy in a tightly written memoir.    

                        Morgan St. James

From Part II: 

I remember when Aunt Rosetta walked into a room it was painted with sunshine.  Soon that room overflowed with laughter. Laughter is contagious and let me tell you Aunt Rosetta was the primary carrier.  Even though she is no longer with us, I know that she is spreading sunshine and laughter somewhere.  

Nephew Sandy Schwartz, her brother Charlie's son 

The Thing in the Corner

Today I had lunch with my cousin Sandy (Rosetta's brother Charlie's son) and gave him his copy of Can We Come In and Laugh, Too?. I showed him where his contribution is in Part II and then we reminisced about Rosetta.


Somehow we began to talk about modern appliances. My mother Rosetta was certainly all for keeping up with modern technology although she never learned to use a computer and didn't embrace some of the things we use every day to make life easier.


That brings me to the "thing in the corner."


My sister and I had decided to buy her a portable microwave oven  in the late 1980s. We figured it would make it easier for her to heat things up quickly instead of waiting for the oven. We put a big bow on it and presented her with our wonderful gift.


She said, "Honey, let's put it right in the corner. See that space on the counter?" That's where it went, and she was right. It was a perfect space. However, when I'd visit her, I noticed that she still turned on the oven and the protective clear covering was still on the door of the microwave. Finally one day about a year after we'd given it to her, I said, "How do you like using the microwave?"


"Well, I haven't actually used it yet." 


"Why not, Mom? Look at all the time it will save you."


"Honey, why would I want to save time? At my age, (she was around 80 then) I've got lots and lots of time on my hands. In fact, sometimes I have to figure out things to fill the days. What would I do to fill the time the thing in the corner would save me? Maybe I'll try to use it one of these days, but not right now."


She never did use the thing in the corner, but from that day on, that's what she called it. Eventually, after she had mini-strokes and had to move to an assisted living residence, I inherited the thing in the corner. In fact, that old thing in the corner, now about 23 years old, has rarely been used and sits on a cabinet in one corner of my guest casita in Las Vegas. And it still works.



Her dishwasher was rarely used for anything more than keeping dirty dishes out of the way until she could fill the sink with soapy water, then wash and dry them. One time we had a big dinner at her apartment and after I loaded the dishes I said, "Where do you keep the dishwasher soap? We might as well just run the load now."


She looked at me for a minute, then said, "Why, I don't have any."


"Did you run out?"


"No, I've never had any and don't even know if the darned thing works."