Hip-Hop Grandmas

I have a distinct memory of being in my room when I was in either 5th or 6th grade, and Grandma made a sudden appearance. She and Grandpap had come over for the evening and were playing cards with my parents. Apparently my brother or sister had won the TV battle, since I was playing up in my room instead of hanging out, watching TGIF on ABC or some family movie. My brother was probably watching baseball.

Anyway, I'm in my room, listening to the radio and the dance party/remix set that came on after 8:00 pm was jamming. All I needed was a disco ball and I was ready to bust a move. The Electric Slide started to play and I continued playing or reading or whatever I was doing. I'd heard Grandma come upstairs, and when she heard the music, she came in, "I love this song!" I smiled and laughed because I knew it was true. Grandma and Grandpap used to go out dancing most weekends, so I wasn't surprised.

Grandma: Why aren't you dancing?

Me: Oh, I don't know it.

Grandma: It's easy! I'll show you.

And that's the story of how Grandma taught me the Electric Slide in my bedroom. Growing up with such an influence, I'm rarely flustered at the actions and comments of, well, grandmas. So it should come as no surprise, that this past weekend I wasn't fazed by a few things.

Over the weekend, my mother-in-law, M, and I traveled to the Allentown, PA, area to go to my husband's cousin's fiance's bridal shower (did you get that?). We stayed with D's step-grandmother, A (D's grandfather passed away last year, but A is a part of this very small, close family). On Friday night, we piled into A's car to go out to dinner. Now, I wasn't actually surprised, but I was curious when I heard Ke$ha playing on the radio. Later, on the way back to the house, A addressed the interesting choice of music, now playing a little ditty by Ludacris.

A: How do you like my radio station, C?

Me: It's pretty good. Not what I'd think you'd have on, but I'm not complaining.

A: Well, they play different stuff during the day, and then in the evening it switches for more of what the kids to listen, so I just never bother to change the channel. I don't mind it.

Me: That's cool. I don't know which is funnier, that you listen to this station or that my 4 year old niece knows all the words to these songs.

A: Well, last week I was in the car with my daughter and my grandkids and they had their iPod hooked up. We're driving along and all of a sudden, I say, "That's Usher." Just about blew them away.

I laughed, and then A admitted that she cheated a bit because Usher had just been on Oprah so that's the only way she knew his name. Regardless, I was impressed that she recognized and remembered the song. It made me wonder if she could do the Electric Slide. (I checked our wedding photos and couldn't find any evidence of such behavior, but that doesn't mean she wasn't out there!)

The next day, after the shower, we had come back to the house and A said, "I need a drink," meaning she was parched and wanted some water, but the way it came out made us giggle that it was happy hour. This sparked something for A and she had M and I follow her to the basement so we could help her with something. She opened one of the cabinets and we saw this:

About 40 bottles of varying alcohol that hadn't been touched since the late 1970s, so far as M and A could determine. It had been added to over the years (wine that D's grandfather had received as gifts from work and such), but no one had actually consumed any of it and many bottles were totally untouched.

A: What do I do with it?

Me: I think we need to dump it. If it's that old, it's not good any more.

A: Even the unopened bottles?

Me: Yeah. With the temperature changes and humidity down here, I don't think any of that could have survived one year's worth of temperature swings, let alone 30.

And so it commenced. I'm sure my Irish grandfather rolled over in his grave when I poured a 5th of Seagram's down the drain. As I popped corks from wine bottles, they disintegrated and it wasn't long until the entire basement smelled like a distillery.

Before we started, I sent D and text: We're going to help A empty out the liquor cabinet from the 1970s.

In return, he wrote: I wouldn't drink any of that if it's that old.

I didn't know what to make of that: My husband thought his wife, mother and step-grandmother were going to get totally sloshed on a Saturday afternoon by drinking 40 bottles of booze or he thought I would actually drink 30 year old liquor. (He told me later he was joking about us drinking it.)

When we were done, this is what we accomplished:


Oh, the humanity.

And poor, A is so concerned about throwing the bottles out. Living in a small town, she's planning to throw out a few at a time, so as to not cause suspicion that she had a wild party.