I have spoken to my great uncle Elliot a grand total of three times in my entire life and one of them was when I rocked the duties of Flower Girl at Ronnie's first wedding. Since Uncle Elliot had missed my Grampy's funeral last week, he drove up from Florida to pay his respects and visit my grammy, his sister. They would bond and reminisce. Speak Yiddish Pig Latin like they did when they were ten and think they're hilarious.
Just to see how she was doing, I called up Grammy, who broke out her mad skills in slathering AWKWARD across an otherwise straightforward phone call. She asked me point blank if I wanted to say hello to my great uncle Elliot. Ummm. Sure.
Uncle Elliot required little if any prodding to launch into a tale about his years at Radio City Music Hall playing in the pit orchestra. He'd watch the girls audition for the Rockettes. The first cut was a test. The Silver Dollar Test. They'd make the girls hold three silver dollars. One between their thighs, one between their knees and one between their ankles. The auditorium would get very quiet and then you'd hear a silver dollar drop. CUT!
I said, oh. ok. well. it would be nice to see you while you're in town.
And Uncle Elliot replied, Yes, I'd like to see your set.
I can't be sure, he's 85, he was low talking, but I kind of swear that's what he said.