A Princess Evening
By Elizabeth Fajardo
Just a week after the glitz of the Academy Awards was winding down, our
own California Posse held its Third Annual Dinner Celebration. And what a
magical night it was!
Barely a breeze could be felt on my cheeks as we made our way down the
hill to the Van's restaurant, the sheen of a full moon illuminating each step.
Nadine and Fabby greeted us with smiles and the option to play a poker
hand. Without hesitation, we accepted. Within seconds I was rewarded with
a package wrapped in scarlet tissue, a mystery that was soon to be revealed.
Then my biker prince led us to a corner table beside a mirrored wall. We
were approached by a man with a bag of over-sized playing cards, who
beckoned us to take part. One by one I made my five choices, from poor to
worse. But then again, words, not numbers, had always been a strong point.
There was always next year.
Orange and black balloons -- reminiscent of my San Francisco Giants as
well as the traditional Harley-Davidson regalia -- adorned select chairs.
Once seated, like Cinderella at the ball, I opened the surprise: a silver
goblet with the Posse emblem, perfect for my hot chocolate. So chic, yet
manly, too.
As my eyes scanned the room, I was warmed by the happy, familiar faces I
had often only glanced from behind my Martian-bubble helmet. I especially
took note of baby Kaden, probably born to ride, but whose first inclination
was to grip his tiny fingers around balloon ribbons. Such dexterity would
come in handy, I thought, when he got the feel of that first Harley ride down
the 101 to Tomorrow Land and beyond. His most exuberant babysitter was
Tina, from the Daly City H.A. With every one of her giggles, his grin grew
wider and wider.
So many members of the Noble Creed were present, giving me the sense we
were all one big family. Hugs from Sparky, Phil, and Maria in our home
corner confirmed this cozy feeling. As time went on our table filled up.
Soon Berni, Aris, Merrill (the card dealer), and a one-track-mind football guy
who reminded me of Bob Uecker and his infamous "Must be in the FRONT
row!" line had joined our "team." We placed an order that only a mother
could love, substituting everything for the scrumptious mashed potatoes and,
in addition, special requests of whole milk on the side. Having the two Kunz
sisters nearby at that inaugural royal dance, would've given Cinderella's evil
stepsisters a run for their money having beauty and brains -- and the ability
to kick-ass if Cindy's nasty sibs gave chase.
Before long, the other Liz took the mic and announced the poker winners.
First was Jeff, who carefully chose, most uncharacteristically, a petite
bracelet mixed in among the more popular power tools and the like. Then,
just as I was sinking into oblivion, Liz shouted the name of the person with
the winning low score: "Liz Fajardo." I jumped up and said, "I won!" Like
greased lightening my toes flew to the entrance. Beside my blond mentor, I
selected -- in the tradition of every other real princess -- a dazzling diamond
necklace. "Diamonds are forever," I shouted to no one in particular, and
suddenly my flowery dress seemed to sway with ease.
Mixed in with fearless leader Ray's welcoming words was a slide show
which took us on a trip down memory lane. I began to understand what this
special club was all about. The frames began and ended with Mary's Sarge,
her prince for all time -- the true fairytale.
Last but not least was the raffle, commencing just as saucers of vanilla
delight cooled our palates. I remember Pete being one of the first to stand
when the numbers were called out, appropriately since he was persona non
grata who last year won the favorite red-and-white sweatshirt the little
people are still talking about. But it tickled me princess pink to see Lourdes
and Jeff take turns at the prize table over and over again, like
day-after-Christmas shoppers at Macy's getting all the best buys (and I
should know). At our famed Mashed Potato Table there was little to brag
about since hardly any of the numbers heard aloud began with our pleading
combo of #29. Then just as we'd given up hope, Berni's "32's" came up and
she proudly took one for the team, snapping up a black T-shirt or such.
Diamonds look great over black velvet. Why not cotton? Ah, our table did
have some magic after all.
As the clock ticked close to midnight, my black slippers intact, I began to
realize something deep inside. A happy ending to this evening, or "Good
Times," as Sparky would say, happens because of friends. And I'd been
blessed with so many.
By Elizabeth Fajardo
By Elizabeth Fajardo
Just a week after the glitz of the Academy Awards was winding down, our
own California Posse held its Third Annual Dinner Celebration. And what a
magical night it was!
Barely a breeze could be felt on my cheeks as we made our way down the
hill to the Van's restaurant, the sheen of a full moon illuminating each step.
Nadine and Fabby greeted us with smiles and the option to play a poker
hand. Without hesitation, we accepted. Within seconds I was rewarded with
a package wrapped in scarlet tissue, a mystery that was soon to be revealed.
Then my biker prince led us to a corner table beside a mirrored wall. We
were approached by a man with a bag of over-sized playing cards, who
beckoned us to take part. One by one I made my five choices, from poor to
worse. But then again, words, not numbers, had always been a strong point.
There was always next year.
Orange and black balloons -- reminiscent of my San Francisco Giants as
well as the traditional Harley-Davidson regalia -- adorned select chairs.
Once seated, like Cinderella at the ball, I opened the surprise: a silver
goblet with the Posse emblem, perfect for my hot chocolate. So chic, yet
manly, too.
As my eyes scanned the room, I was warmed by the happy, familiar faces I
had often only glanced from behind my Martian-bubble helmet. I especially
took note of baby Kaden, probably born to ride, but whose first inclination
was to grip his tiny fingers around balloon ribbons. Such dexterity would
come in handy, I thought, when he got the feel of that first Harley ride down
the 101 to Tomorrow Land and beyond. His most exuberant babysitter was
Tina, from the Daly City H.A. With every one of her giggles, his grin grew
wider and wider.
So many members of the Noble Creed were present, giving me the sense we
were all one big family. Hugs from Sparky, Phil, and Maria in our home
corner confirmed this cozy feeling. As time went on our table filled up.
Soon Berni, Aris, Merrill (the card dealer), and a one-track-mind football guy
who reminded me of Bob Uecker and his infamous "Must be in the FRONT
row!" line had joined our "team." We placed an order that only a mother
could love, substituting everything for the scrumptious mashed potatoes and,
in addition, special requests of whole milk on the side. Having the two Kunz
sisters nearby at that inaugural royal dance, would've given Cinderella's evil
stepsisters a run for their money having beauty and brains -- and the ability
to kick-ass if Cindy's nasty sibs gave chase.
Before long, the other Liz took the mic and announced the poker winners.
First was Jeff, who carefully chose, most uncharacteristically, a petite
bracelet mixed in among the more popular power tools and the like. Then,
just as I was sinking into oblivion, Liz shouted the name of the person with
the winning low score: "Liz Fajardo." I jumped up and said, "I won!" Like
greased lightening my toes flew to the entrance. Beside my blond mentor, I
selected -- in the tradition of every other real princess -- a dazzling diamond
necklace. "Diamonds are forever," I shouted to no one in particular, and
suddenly my flowery dress seemed to sway with ease.
Mixed in with fearless leader Ray's welcoming words was a slide show
which took us on a trip down memory lane. I began to understand what this
special club was all about. The frames began and ended with Mary's Sarge,
her prince for all time -- the true fairytale.
Last but not least was the raffle, commencing just as saucers of vanilla
delight cooled our palates. I remember Pete being one of the first to stand
when the numbers were called out, appropriately since he was persona non
grata who last year won the favorite red-and-white sweatshirt the little
people are still talking about. But it tickled me princess pink to see Lourdes
and Jeff take turns at the prize table over and over again, like
day-after-Christmas shoppers at Macy's getting all the best buys (and I
should know). At our famed Mashed Potato Table there was little to brag
about since hardly any of the numbers heard aloud began with our pleading
combo of #29. Then just as we'd given up hope, Berni's "32's" came up and
she proudly took one for the team, snapping up a black T-shirt or such.
Diamonds look great over black velvet. Why not cotton? Ah, our table did
have some magic after all.
As the clock ticked close to midnight, my black slippers intact, I began to
realize something deep inside. A happy ending to this evening, or "Good
Times," as Sparky would say, happens because of friends. And I'd been
blessed with so many.
By Elizabeth Fajardo
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