I wondered why John was taking me to a place called the Gaslamp Strip Club, in the trendiest part of San Diego. But we were meeting one of my most favorite people, Nelson, so the where didn't really matter. I was relieved to find out that it was a restaurant, if just barely. It seems they provide fabulous meat (or tuna), but they make you cook it yourself. No one is stripping - but the walls are covered with Vargas prints.
Vargas prints! My mom had a Vargas diary - I still have it somewhere around here. I think I have managed to hang on to a frightening amount of my parents' and grandparents' possessions. I pity Bill or his children having to go through it all, but I've no intention of pitching it for as long as it still gives me pleasure! Guess I'm not a minimalist at heart, eh?
ReplyDeleteAnd I was worried about anyone recognizing the Vargas reference. My Father-in-law had a couple of Vargas type tasteful pin-ups, autographed to him. He died right before my oldest was born - his first grandchild. When we moved from Seattle, I found one of them and my son immediately took it back to Sacramento. Full circle. My husband was an only child and ended up with everything, a lot of which we still have - so I totally understand how easy it is to hang on to stuff.
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