Trying to decide the subject matter of my first blog post was difficult. After all, it's a historic moment (well, at least for me), and I didn't want something too dramatic or (heaven forbid) dull. Overwhelmed by the pressure, I made the decision to go with simplicity and post a photograph. Pictured in the image above is my great aunt, Ruby, and her husband, Charlie, from sometime in the 50s. I adore this photo. Perhaps it's the romantic notion of a time long lost or that I'm related to the figures in the image. Either way, I find myself staring at it quite often from the confines of my home office.
Ruby was a looker, huh? I love her hair and the clothes she's wearing. I only wish I could see it in color. The funny thing is, I've never called her my "Aunt Ruby." She's always been "Irv" to me. When my mother was a youngster, she couldn't pronounce "Ruby," only, "Irv," and the name stuck. To this day, she's crazy Aunt Irv. She worked for the telephone company for many years, and she and Charlie, a firefighter, lived a quiet, humble life together. Charlie died several years back of a heart attack. But I can still hear his chuckle, and I have so many memories of fishing with him when I was a child. Aunt Irv is still very active, and for a woman in her 80s, she has a real cunning sense of humor and somewhat of a potty mouth.
But perhaps my favorite aspect of this photograph are the endless bottles that seem scattered about, evidence of a truly fabulous night at whatever bar or club they happen to be socializing in. I can only imagine what life was like then. I somehow picture it as so much more glamorous than today.
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