President Carter, that is.
Let me go back a few days. Brian received an invitation to a Bat Mitzvah for one of his guitar students, to be held this coming Saturday. He had no idea what one brings to a Bat Mitzvah (card? gift? both?). I didn’t know either, but I called up one of my charming adult piano students who just happens to be Jewish and she determined that a card and small gift would be appropriate. She also suggested that I go to a local bookstore, Changing Hands, as they have a decent selection of Bat Mitzvah cards. Brian works pretty much all the time, so I was dispatched to pick up the card and gift. I put it off until today. No big deal, right? Just run over to Changing Hands and pick up a card and something appropriate to go with it…shouldn’t take more than a half hour. Right?
Wrong. The parking lot was a madhouse and there was a line from the front door of Changing Hands to Baskin Robbins, three doors down. Channel Five was there with their van and reporter and cameraman. I still thought maybe I’d find a parking spot and dash in quickly since the line was for clearly for some random event that didn’t pertain to me. Alas, as I drove past the front door, I noticed that it was completely blocked off. Eh. No big deal, I’d go somewhere else, like the Borders in Mesa.
Mission accomplished, I went home to eat a quick dinner before heading out to Scottsdale with Elise and Jeremy for a art opening at the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art. Jeremy knew all about the madness at Changing Hands. Jimmy Carter was there, signing autographs to promote his new book, Palestine: Peace Not Aparteid.
Just think—President Carter could have potentially helped me pick out the perfect Bat Mitzvah card, had I waited in line long enough. How oddly appropriate.
