Meeting Fred Goldman

My husband, Jerry and I met Fred Goldman last night, sort of. I know I'm a very wet behind the ears blogger, but even with my very limited experience, I am fairly certain that I should be keeping to the theme of “working mom” type stuff, however, we had an experience last night that shook me to my inner core and I felt compelled to write about it instead. I can hear the feverish clicking of unsubscribing all over the land…

Last night, we had our sitter~ YEE HAW! Our ticket to freedom for just a few hours. She arrived about 5 pm and we went to a great dinner, and of course, the restaurant was practically empty because, really, who eats this early except senior citizens having the early bird special. So, after a quick dinner, we ponder, what are we going to do now…so we went to a place that we haven’t been in ages, the mall.

That too, was vacant. We were the only losers shopping on a Saturday night. We went into a large department store, where Jerry looked for shirts in the men’s section. “Can I help you find anything?” a voice asks. We look up to find Fred Goldman. For all you young’uns, he was of course, the father of Ronald Goldman, who if you remember, was Nicole Simpson’s friend who was brutally attacked and killed, when he brought her the sunglasses she left behind on the table at the restaurant where he worked.

This double murder happened on June 12, 1994. At that time, I was a 25 year old single girl, getting ready to go out barhopping with friends. We were on the phone gabbing about what bar we should start at and what we were wearing, oh and by the way, did you hear about OJ? When Nicole Simpson was murdered, her children were 8 and 5, the exact ages of my children now.

We recognized Fred Goldman immediately but we did not acknowledge this recognition, because his fame was associated with an enormous travesty, it seemed inappropriate to mention. It was sort of an unspoken we know who you are because of what happened to your son and he knew that we knew who he was for the same reason. I was so tempted to reach out and hug him and tell him how deeply sorry I was for the loss of his son and how completely unfair it all was. But I knew that I would sob my guts out in the middle of the store. So I didn’t.

We had a pleasant conversation for about 30 minutes, talking about everything. He was just Fred in the men’s section, not a person who was tragically affected by one of the most high profile murder cases in history. I was awestruck at how completely pleasant and kind he was after everything he has been through in his life. He lives every day knowing that the man who brutally murdered his son is alive, free and writing books. I can assure you I would be unfit to live in society.

When we got home, I kissed both of my slumbering kids on the cheeks and stared at them for longer than usual, thinking of Fred.

First Time

Hi! My name is Amy and this is my first time in the blogging universe, so please be gentle. I didn't even know exactly what a blog was until just a few months ago. I live under a rock. Seriously, it just took me 3 hours of blood, sweat and tears to set up this Blogger page, and I still need to make obvious changes. I must be extra remedial, huh?



My husband, Jerry and I have been married for 11 years and have 2 amazing kids: Cole, age 8 and Patty, age 5. We live in Scottsdale, AZ. I work full time as a pharmaceutical sales rep.

I decided to write this blog primarily to help make sense of my role of a working mom. This is a role I have always struggled with. It will be short in length due to the fact that if you are a mom, you have little, if any time to read leisurely. The content will be simple to understand, since my current reading comprehension ability is about a 4th grade reading level. So, here we go...

Today was a monumental day for our family. Patty, our "spirited" child, decided she wanted to spend the night at the camp sleepover. She had been solicited and brainwashed by the multitude of targeted marketing the camp aimed at these little people that this would be THE night of all nights, complete with:

*gourmet dinner: cafeteria style pasta, salad and fruit
*entertaining camp "talent" show"
*critically acclaimed classic movie: "Alvin and the Chipmunks"
and the finale...
*getting to sleep at the camp (on the filthy social hall floor where they eat lunch daily) with a few hundred sweaty, cranky, tired campers, who would be giggling, talking and NOT sleeping...

But wait,...there's more!

In the morning, there was a field trip to... THE CIRCUS!!! So the whole thing was a circus within a Circus.

Who planned these back to back action-packed series of events? Obviously not a parent.

Please keep in mind, this child is only 5 years old. She has never had a sleepover. And she was so out-of-her-mind-excited to attend this life-changing event, she had been on her very, very best behavior for the entire week, which we had not witnessed for about 2 YEARS. What a sublime week of "yes, mommy!" and no fighting with her older brother, Cole all glorious week. Patty has been prime Super Nanny material, if that gives you a picture. The deal was, if she had a "good" behavior week, she could go to the sleepover. Mission accomplished. She was perfect. Who was this child? So, she got to attend.

I picked her up this afternoon, and she was standing upright, comatose. She looked right through me with her dark, droopy eyes, sucking on a chocolate lollipop. Good, I thought, she's zonked. She'll go home and crash. Six seconds in the door and she had reverted back to the Old Patty, having a complete meltdown, totally naked with chocolate surrounding her mouth, stabbing her plastic piggy bank with a fork, trying to get her money out because her brother spent his allowance on a $9.49 Lego set while she was at the sleepover, so why couldn't she go spend her money "RIGHT NOW?!?!" What a picture. And just like that, the good behavior streak was over until another worthy bribe comes along. She was in bed, snoring at 7:15 p.m.