Tag Archives: Pizza

I Never Met a Pizza I Didn’t Like

15 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites


Author, Poet and ArtistTo celebrate our 57th wedding anniversary, Bill and I went out for pizza. Mama Rosa’s, where we had planned go, was closed for vacation so we schlepped on down to Kelsey’s in Port St. John. We had already celebrated twice, having normally scheduled meals with family members and calling them celebrations, but this was the real thing on the real day.

Bill took me for my first pizza when I was eighteen years old. The restaurant was on Central Blvd in Albuquerque. It was also where he took me for my first lobster. Then when he decided to ask for my hand in marriage he took me there again. I liked lobster fine, and I liked the T-bone steaks at a small diner where they only cost $2.00 a plate, but the love of pizza stayed with me for the rest of my life (so far.)

We did get married and our first month in California where Bill was going to school, we spent every penny we had with barely enough to pay the rent. We didn’t even have money for food. I think we spent it on movies or something equally frivolous. Anyhow, Bill’s friend drove out from New Mexico to visit and our mothers sent care packages. They knew we’d developed a passion for pizza so between them they sent five boxes of Appian Way pizza mix and a pizza pan to bake them on. We got by.

Later when I had a job with Magic Mirror Beauty Salons and Bill worked part time cleaning airplanes our favorite pizza palace was Sir pizza. I’d stop there after a hard Saturday on my feet, get a pizza with everything (except anchovies and green peppers), stop at Thrifty Mart for a bottle of Thunderbird, and we’d spend our Saturday evening watching our tiny black and white T. V. and munching away at our pizza. We loved the cowboy shows such as, “Rawhide,” and “Wagon Train,” and it was a lovely thing to look forward as we went to work Saturday morning. “See ya later, alligator, after while, crocodile.”

We started out eating a whole small pizza between us, but now all we can manage is half, which is great because that means we can stick it in the oven for fifteen minutes the next day and enjoy it all over again.

Listen, the reason we both look kind of funny in this picture is that I asked a man who was in front of us in the paying line to take the picture and he wasn’t sure what he was doing and he took one and it didn’t flash and Bill said take another one and we were both wondering whether he was going to be able to manage it or not. You can see we weren’t overly anxious, but then again who had time to smile with all that going on. We really did enjoy ourselves and are planning many more pizza times to come. We’ll try Mama Rosa’s again on my seventy-sixth birthday which is coming up soon. Y’all come. (You see we live in the South now, so I’ve taken on Southern talk.)




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