Beverly Hills with Grace

We didn't take a vacation this year - even a little one and I felt badly for Grace. Her sisters had something to look forward to every summer when they were growing up, so I decided to take Grace to see a Broadway show here in town. She loves theatre so this seemed a good consolation.

I purchased tickets to "Spamalot" online. When we sent the older girls to New York for their Christmas present two years ago, we got them tickets to this show and they raved - so as show day grew nearer, we started getting excited.

Today was show day. After getting dressed, we left at 11:30 for the 2:00 matinee. I wanted to give time for traffic and a quick bite at the restaurant there at Los Angeles Theatre Center. We made fairly good time and finally did arrive, with minimal traffic, at about 1:00. I pulled into the parking garage and told the attendant that we were there for the show. He looked at me blankly. I said: "At the Ahmanson". He cocked his head and furrowed his brow. I said: "Spamalot. Matinee". He said, "I don't think there is a show today." I assured him there was. He asked if I had my tickets. Of course I did! I pulled them out of my purse. There it was, right there - in black in white. Thursday, 2:00 matinee. Next week.

Now what. We were dressed and there. And she deserved to do something.

"Hey Grace, do you want to have lunch in Beverly Hills?", I ask.

"Have I ever been there?"

"I don't think you have."

"Okay".

I took Wilshire Boulevard all the way from where it begins at Grand Avenue, and headed west, pointing out landmarks along the way.

"There is the old Sheraton Town House where my first husband and I spent our honeymoon". Now how weird was that to point out? "Oh", she says. Bless her heart. She has a mother who is not always playing her "best game".

"There's the old Bullocks Wilshire when department store shopping could include lunch and a fashion show..." "There is the first building I ever worked in in Los Angeles..." (I looked at the building and suddenly realized how many times it shows up in my previously mentioned fascinating dreams. Interesting.) "There is where the Brown Derby used to be before a bunch of idiots tore it down to build that piece of crap..." "That is what is left of the old Ambassador Hotel which housed the Coconut Grove and where Robert Kennedy was killed..." "This is the fabulous apartment I lived in when I was 22. It was built in 1936..." I was enjoying this tour . And so, it appeared, was Grace. Either that or she is excellent at faking it for my benefit. I had forgotten how interesting Los Angeles could be and how great it was to do the tour.

We finally got to Beverly Hills. Beverly Hills was a place to dream about when I was 10. Beverly Hills doesn't really mean much to Grace. It doesn't offer the magic it once held. Grace knows it is supposed to be a big deal but she really doesn't get why. To her, "old Hollywood" means Mel Gibson. And Beverly Hills looks like a lot of other places now days. So I had to talk it up some. But really, how do you talk up the significance of Nate 'n Al's Deli to today's 10 year old? "Carl Reiner is a regular!" Grace: "Was he a big star?" Me: "Well, not really a big star. But he is famous and he wrote for Dick Van Dyke and Sid Cesear and their shows!" "Cool. Were they stars?"

We eat at the Cheesecake Factory.

After we eat (she, the mandatory "chicken fingers", me a salad, and both of us share the chocolate fudge cake), we walk in the stifling heat and I begin to try to point our stores of interest on Brighton Way. I can never explain "Geary's" to her. She wants to care but it will never mean to her what it needs to mean in order for her to care. It is of a bygone day. Or a day when there is ridiculous money in her life.

"Wanna see Tiffany's?", I ask. This is a 'strike gold' moment. "YEAH!" she exclaims. Off we go around the corner to Rodeo Drive - she is impressed by the parking lot. This will be good. We take the elevator up and there, she sees the store. She smiles as we walk into it but I can see almost immediately, she is a bit disappointed. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires are not on display galore. There are lots of silver charms and silver hearts. "Amanda has that", I show her. "Oh. Yeah". No one even remotely resembling Audry Hepburn was there. The most impressive thing she saw was a little coffee table that looked like a Tiffany box. Yeah, not so much see in old B.H.

So we sit outside for a moment - mostly to give the parking attendant enough time to come back from parking my car. And then, a nice young man comes walking out of Jose Eber's salon and asks us of we would like to get a free make-over. Grace is embarrassed but I convince her: "Oh Grace - this is a big deal. This is Jose Eber's salon!" I'm really selling it for her. There has to be something special for her today. The nice man tells her Amanda Bynes has her make-up done there. The roles are reversed. Is she a star? Apparently. Grace is finally sold.

I guess things are slow everywhere. We both sat down and they spent a lot of time on us. Well, a lot of time on me. Grace took 5 minutes and looked fresh and lovely with pale gloss and sheen on her rosy cheeks. It took significantly more time to touch me up. Specifically, one hour and $600.00 worth of product. And I will say - she (an amazing makeup artist named Mary Phifer) made me feel beautiful. Of course that is in the eye of the beholder. But here are the results:

I walked out with considerably less than $600.00 worth of cosmetics but they put one liner, one shadow, and one pencil in a shiny black bag with a pretty logo and pink and orange tissue - just like a present. I made a comment about what a fuss they make with the bags and the nice young man reminded me that: "This is Beverly Hills". Indeed it is.

At one point a very sweet and well put together and beautiful lady walked into the store and said that she had been watching us get made up and she felt she needed to tell me what a pretty daughter I had and that she "looked just like a young lady should look". This endeared her to me immediately - I would have hugged her if I wasn't afraid that I would muss her hair - but Grace was flattered and happy and she felt special.

It turned out to be a really good day for both of us. I'm glad we had it. However, while school starts Monday, she will be absent on Thursday because I owe her one Broadway show.