Sandy Granzow (or why Google is the answer to everything)
Last night we were sitting around talking about the kids with Hadley and Babi (my mom, aka Helena). As we were talking I had a flashback to a childhood memory. I’ve been having this same flashback ever since Emory was born. It’s a memory from when I was a kid and we went to a family party. The party has been permanently etched into my brain as the prototypical definition of fun. The grown ups were all laughing and having a great time and there were loads of kids and we were all having fun running around playing games into the wee hours of the night.
As I was recounting this memory it suddenly struck me, the name of the woman who’s party it was: Sandy. Oh yeah, my mom said, Sandy…and the last name was on the tip of her tongue…Granzow! And we were both like Wow! Yes. That was it.
My mom wondered aloud, where is Sandy Granzow now. I immediately responded: Google her.
As I was brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed, my mom yelled out, “Do you know who Spikey Jones is?”
“Ahh…do you mean Spike Jonze?”
“Yes, Jonze with a ‘Z’. That’s Sandy Granzow’s son.”
Pretty funny. It’s kinda like something straight out of a movie. Like a strange head trip of a movie.
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