Respect for my elders

I've been showing a lot of respect for my elders this year----especially those who turn 60 before I do. Let's see----Janis, Robin, Andrea, Phil, Denise, Elena, Helen, Smokey, Lesle, Harmon, Susan, Joanne, Greta (you old fool you), Gary.

Those are the ones I can think of, off the top of my head. I had to write a special note at my book signing the other night to Marla who's gonna get really old on May 19. I also just met a neat lady named Melissa who turned 60 last September. And, I know that my coffee cult friend and classmate Donna Coulter hits the magic number May 22. Surely, there are many, many more, but these folks can receive their elderly notoriety in Slightdetour today.

Well, today is also "double, oh, no, I'm 60 day."

Laura Delamarter attended one of my birthday parties down on Euclid a long, long time ago. I had just turned one. My short, curly brown hair was putting on some healthy growth by that time. There were balloons and little girls and boys who'd been dressed and spit-shined by their proud June Cleaver mommies. I don't remember the refreshments or the presents, but I've got some photos tucked away of the event, and it looked like we were having fun as one-year-olds.

Laura attended a few more of my parties over the years, and we've managed to keep contact, albeit occasionally, ever since our infant days in good ol' Sandpoint. The Delamarters and the Browns lived down there by the old junior high, which is now being so beautifully restored.

The Browns moved to a farm in the country in 1950 and later, the little Brown kids had a new step-father named Harold Tibbs. So, the little Brown kids spent the rest of their lives explaining to everyone why their name was Brown and their younger siblings were named Tibbs. I still get asked that question, even though my name hasn't been Brown for a long time.

Anyway, we all remained friends with the Delamarters, and they eventually moved to Boyer, later finding their way to the country about a mile north of us. It was the Pennington place at the time, but it had previously served as the childhood stomping grounds of Alice and Bill Woolsey and their clan. Now, Ralph Sletager owns it.

When Laura Delamarter came to the country, I was ecstatic. She had been my longest friend, having attended that first year birthday party. I spent most of the rest of my childhood roaming the woods at their place or sitting in Eleanor and Paul's bedroom at the Singer sewing machine. I also ate a lot of Eleanor's cinnamon rolls.

Laura lives off in Oregon now. She has four beautiful children who probably have children of their own now. Her mother Eleanor always stood out as one of my lifetime heroines, having shown more patience that even Job or June Cleaver could muster when it came to helping me learn how to be a less-than remarkable seamstress. The main aim was to get the damn thing done before all those ripped-out needle holes outnumbered the remaining threads of fabric.

Today, Laura Delamarter has turned 60. She's still my longest friend, and I salute her. She's a beautiful lady. She doesn't have that white blonde hair anymore, and my little stubby brown curls have seen more than their share of cover-up dye. I doubt Laura has as many wrinkles as I do because she gave me her tunafish sandwich crusts, which fattened me up while she remained skinny. My extra flab provides much more potential for a good age wrinkle or two.

Happy Birthday, to my dear friend of so many years.

And, then there's Andrea Venishnick Carlson. While growing up, we didn't know each other as well as we do now. After all, she went to Washington School down there in the south part of town---on the good side of the tracks. My first encounters with Andrea occurred in seventh grade when we all converged on that old junior high, near where Laura and I had sprouted.

My memories of Andrea back in those days were how neatly dressed and sophisticated she was as a 12-year-old, no less. Seems like there was musical talent involved too. And, she was Lutheran.

Another friend Joanne Buhr was Lutheran like Andrea. Andrea and I didn't banter so much about the superiority of Catholics over Lutherans and vice versa quite so much as Joanne and I did. I knew even then that all Lutherans were giving us fish eaters a run for our money. Unfortunately, it didn't make me a better Catholic with a pure white soul. I still had plenty to divulge on my semi-annual visits to the dark confessionals.

Well, we all know about Catholics and what they've endured these days. Haven't heard too much bad news about Lutherdom except for an occasional peep from my favorite pastor over there in Western Washington. Don't know how strong a Lutheran Andrea is these days, but I'm pretty sure Joanne has kept the faith.

Andrea and I have become good friends during our adult lives. Of course, having taught two of her three children helped, and my longtime respect and friendship for her education-loving mother Pat had a lot to do with our later appreciation for each other. I was honored to speak at the dedication of Sandpoint High's auditorium to Pat Venishnick. The whole family came that day, and since that time, Andrea and I have kept up a pretty good correspondence.

Well, my dear friend from Bend has turned 60 today also. I salute her and wish her the happiest of days as she reaches this milestone of turning "really old." And, as the young 'un in the crowd, I'll continue my inflicting cocky jabs until I can't run any faster to escape the same demise that, in my mind, signals merely a date on the calendar but not a state of mind.

And, in my state of mind, we all still have undyed hair, soft and smooth skin, sharp hearing, a mouthful of good teeth and great vision---not only for the small print on restaurant menus but also for many good adventures ahead.

Happy 60th Laura and Andrea. Love ya,

Marianne