A number of years ago, sixteen, if you need me to be more precise, I entered a contest, hoping to win the first prize. Ten thousand dollars to use on my business would have been so appreciated. I had just gotten out of the hospital and needed some cheering up in a very big way when I got a phone call from the editor of the woman’s magazine that had sponsored the contest.
She told me I did not win but was very close. I think she said one vote, but how could it be that I lost by one vote? Did Jeb Bush have anything to do with it? If I’d gotten that one extra vote, it seems, there would have been a tie. Now losing by two votes made sense. Actually, losing did not make sense at all.
The woman bearing bad news was surprised that I took my loss so well. Second prize was not a lesser sum, it was having my picture in the magazine. I remember telling her I was happy I had made it that far in the process, thousands of woman had applied.
The magazine came out at the same time my mom was in town, Provincetown. I had rented a friends condo and Ebon and I took her for some fun by the beach. The most fun we had was Ebon, with his funny French accent, reading the magazine article about me. Well, it wasn’t ALL ABOUT ME……. There were other runner-ups. Bet none of them had so much fun being a big loser. Mom and I were laughing so hard, I think we were crying.
Ebon must have gone back to Boston ahead of us, he was not with us when we went on the sunset cruise through Cape Cod Bay, looking for whales. People out here call it a whale watch. I call it, looking for whales.
I remember buying the tickets, I was not making tons of money (am I now?) With Mom being a child of the depression and me being a child of the sixties, we had different ideas about wether we should go. The tickets were something like eighteen dollars a piece. Mom was hesitating and I convinced her. (It was not a little tourist trinket or something she could buy when she got home. I don’t think they sell tours of Cape Cod Bay in Alabama.) Her sensible nature took a back seat to my sales pitch.
I stood out on the goofy thing on the bow for most of the trip. Mom did come outside for part of the time. We had a picnic and watched a momma and baby whale swimming alongside the boat. Mom went inside to warm up. Like a little kid, I was not going to miss one single moment outside on the ocean. The sun had gone down and someone did a wonderful job hanging the moon. Excited as a ten year old, I ran to the window and knocked to get mom’s attention, pointing to what I saw off in the distance. The beautiful moon and a sweet schooner, lit up with white lights along the mast, brought me the wonder of Christmas magic, with my mom, out on Cape Cod Bay.
OK….now back to the contest..
The winner of the contest was a woman from Chicago. I am sure her essays on her life were no more interesting than mine. In fact, I am QUITE sure of that. She had two kids, a husband and a cute little house with a white picket fence. My kid was twice as cute as either of hers, and three times as funny, so that should have counted for something. But what really tipped the scale in her favor, I am sure, was the white picket fence.
Well, I just moved into a house with a white picket fence so I WANT MY MONEY! And if it doesn’t just drop out of the sky like I think it should I will certainly entertain myself with dreams of what I would do with it if it did.
The greatest thing about having such a big imagination is, I can travel and I don’t need to buy the ticket.
I am planning a trip to Africa for my sixtieth birthday. Ebon was teasing me, like I’ll never get there.
A few years back I called one of my girlfriends from high school. I told her I was going to the Serengeti on my honey moon. She was very excited and wanted to know where I met my fiance. “Sharon….let me tell you about the honey moon first.” I told her all about my dreamy honey moon and THEN told her, ” Just as soon as I meet him I will let you know the location.”
If I don’t get to Africa, I will have had so much fun dreaming about it that I really won’t mind too terribly much. All I really need to do is make a little trip to Chicago, find the woman who stole my money and take it back. Ten thousand dollars will certainly be enough to hire a pilot with a bi-plane for my flight over the Serengeti.
