Inflation Hits Home
I come from the union of a large Greek family on my dads side with that of a small Wasp family on my mothers. It didn't last long. But that's not my story here. There's nothing in the world like a Greek wedding. It's a party like no other. Loud, raucous and fun. Especially when you're a kid. And even more so when people start throwing change. That clinking across the dance floor really gets the party started.
My family tradition has always been to let the kids collect the change. Whatever they catch they keep. I was the kid rubberized knee panels sewn into dress pants were invented for. As soon as we got to the reception hall I'd be circling the dance floor like a cheetah on the Savannah ready to charge into the herd for the kill. Only go after silver, don't be fooled by pennies. I know the sound of a quarter over a nickel on over 30 different kinds of hard woods. White pine is my favorite, it has a pleasant 'ting. All the cousins would get $10 or $15 at every party.
When Lisa and I decided to get married it was the one thing about getting married that I really looked forward to; the day when my family would throw money at me and the next generation would scoop it up. Keeping the family tradition alive. On the day we forgot to tell Lisa's family about the tradition. My family threw money while her family looked on in horror. My cousins collecting the change with Lisa's family ordering their kids to behave themselves. The kids caught on quickly and wanted in on the action too. We had to have the DJ explain the tradition and the Santamaria kids sprang out like an over wound Swiss watch. One of Lisa's cousins came up to us with about $30 cupped in his shirttail thinking he had to give it to us. He was doubly psyched when we explained it was all his. That's how the extended families met for the first time but it did get the party started.
I was the kid in the family who figured out that if I sold my change back to my drunk uncles they'd keep throwing it. I'd grab about $3.85 in a handful and bring it up to them for a quick Fiver. They'd throw it back out without counting it. It didn't take long for my cousins to figure out that little trick too. I'd usually clear upwards of $40 a party, with my cousins pulling in about the same. We had it good. Or so we thought.
Last night at dinner, my cousin Marianne told me that the family no longer throws change anymore. Kids are coming home with $80 - $100. My incredulous reply? "Bastards! They Throw Bills Now?"
I'll miss that sound but at least the party keeps going.
My family tradition has always been to let the kids collect the change. Whatever they catch they keep. I was the kid rubberized knee panels sewn into dress pants were invented for. As soon as we got to the reception hall I'd be circling the dance floor like a cheetah on the Savannah ready to charge into the herd for the kill. Only go after silver, don't be fooled by pennies. I know the sound of a quarter over a nickel on over 30 different kinds of hard woods. White pine is my favorite, it has a pleasant 'ting. All the cousins would get $10 or $15 at every party.
When Lisa and I decided to get married it was the one thing about getting married that I really looked forward to; the day when my family would throw money at me and the next generation would scoop it up. Keeping the family tradition alive. On the day we forgot to tell Lisa's family about the tradition. My family threw money while her family looked on in horror. My cousins collecting the change with Lisa's family ordering their kids to behave themselves. The kids caught on quickly and wanted in on the action too. We had to have the DJ explain the tradition and the Santamaria kids sprang out like an over wound Swiss watch. One of Lisa's cousins came up to us with about $30 cupped in his shirttail thinking he had to give it to us. He was doubly psyched when we explained it was all his. That's how the extended families met for the first time but it did get the party started.
I was the kid in the family who figured out that if I sold my change back to my drunk uncles they'd keep throwing it. I'd grab about $3.85 in a handful and bring it up to them for a quick Fiver. They'd throw it back out without counting it. It didn't take long for my cousins to figure out that little trick too. I'd usually clear upwards of $40 a party, with my cousins pulling in about the same. We had it good. Or so we thought.
Last night at dinner, my cousin Marianne told me that the family no longer throws change anymore. Kids are coming home with $80 - $100. My incredulous reply? "Bastards! They Throw Bills Now?"
I'll miss that sound but at least the party keeps going.
posted by Dean ASC at 6:47 AM
5 Comments:
I need some money. Can I crash the next Santamaria event in the Rock-town area. I'll let a male lucky single cousin stay at my house!
The truly tragic thing about this tradition is that at some point we're expected to grow out of the urge to grab the money and become the drunk uncle throwing it. Besides, UC?!?
You don't see some flawless 3 carat beauty on this typing finger, do you? If so, I wouldn't be able to type and give Pinko Punkass the finger as much as I do!
Send the cute Greeks my way. Have spare room in bed, willing to share!
3 carats will make your hand useless for being anything but a trophy wife.
All chauvanistic kidding aside, I thought more of you then just a pretty face. Your blog sounds like you've got goals beyond the next hair and nails appointment.
Correct, I have to meet with Audi dealer and discuss the new car after I meet with the Architect and investment folks too.
:)
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