8-12-01,Side Streets, Kimbra Traynor Herb, 929 words
Kimra doesn't get out much
By Kimra Traynor Herb
IPS Features
I will freely admit that I don't get out much. My husband and I got married smack dab when he graduated from college and immediately went to live in one of the most expensive cities in the nation: Washington D.C. He was making, like, dirt, and paying for my last semester of college while making the rent on a "luxurious" green shag carpeted apartment, complete with a wild see-through parrot shower curtain in the bathroom. (That was my contribution to decorating back then.) We did not own a bed; we slept instead on a pile of quilts and blankets and never realized why this would cause concern or pity from others. We were, in short, poor but blissfully happy and never really realized that we might be happier in say, a bed or with a real television stand instead of the milk crate which held our little black and white tv.
Oh, our station
has improved since then. Our home now boasts five bedrooms and sprawls around,
but the central decorating theme now seems to be 21st Century Kid Klutter.
Though that early parrot shower curtain has been long since pitched, I still
haven't actually managed to really get it together, decorating-wise. I know what
I SHOULD do now, thanks to countless magazines and visits to more affluent
friends' homes; however, with braces, school fees, clothing, endless trips to
the shoe store for yet another pair of enormous tennis shoes for the
boys....well, there never seems to be enough extra cash on hand to actually DO
those fabulous decorating ideas I have witnessed. "Decorate on a
Shoestring!" My Better Homes and Gardens promises. Hello? Their
"shoestring" must be made of gold because I in no way find five
thousand dollars or less per room to be a bargain.
So..... long
story short, I have been blessed in many ways, but with three boys, never have
seemed to accumulate the kind of wealth that would offer the posh life I
only read about. Truly, I don't mind, and I don't really even notice what we do
or do not have..... until I get an opportunity to see how the "other
half" lives.
That's when I
really reveal my bum-hick nature.
Last
week, the Children's Director at my church and I attended a conference in
Nashville for staff and volunteers involved in Christian Education.
As the children's choir director, I was actually entitled to attend this
conference and take courses about how to improve at my job Prior to going,
Elizabeth (the Children's Director) let me know that she was going to utilize
the opportunity to cash in her husband's frequent hotel stays (he travels
extensively for business) to upgrade us at the Renaissance Marriott. Of
course, I didn't really realize what this meant. "Staying at a hotel"
for us, a family of five, usually means one night at a Budget Inn, or, if we are
feeling really flush and crazy..... a night at the Fairfield. So when the glass
elevator at the Renaissance (which alone was more upscale than any room in my
home) deposited us on the 24th floor (we had to use a special pass key to
activate the floor....an embarrassing display of our lack of knowledge as we
tried again and again to activate the code), I was already sounding like Gomer
Pyle. "Golllllllllllyyyy, Elizabeth, can you believe this?" I said, as
we stepped into our room. "It
has a candy dish!"
That's not
all." She said, perching in a chair in front of a huge glass window with
the city of Nashville spread out in front of us, "we get free food."
Well, shiver me
timbers, those were magical words to my ears. Turned out that we were entitled,
as "special guests" to go to the floor's lounge several times a day
for magical spreads the likes of which I will never see again. Free cokes, free
bottled water, all were ours with just a nod. Oh, and have I mentioned the
ROBES? We had ROBES!
Elizabeth, just
look, we have robes!" I shouted in glee, when I saw them in the closet.
They were luxuriously thick, like ten of my towels all sewn on top of each other
and were emblazed with a crest.
"Take my
picture, quick!" I urged, donning my robe.
Turned out
Elizabeth and I both had forgotten to bring cameras. Darnn the luck! But in my
defense, who would have known I would be subject to such splendor? It was an
amazing trip. I wore the robe whenever I could. I drank somewhere around 100
cokes and ate more than three pounds of brie cheese, tiny exotic pastries,
and special grilled fare. I gained three pounds.
Returning home
was a bummer. Not only did I have to carry my own bags into my house, but I had
to spend the next week unloading the extra weight I had gained from the
endless buffet, and acclimate myself to the absence of the luxurious robe
in my life.
At least I fit
in around here. Back on the 24 floor it was quite obvious that I was out of my
element. Here in my shabby robe and flip flops; I am good old mom who has a job
to fufill. Up on the 24th, I was walking round with my mouth hanging open in
wonder and my stomach bulging from over-indulgence. Told you I don't
get out much.
Good
thing for the world (and my waistline) that I don't.