Donna and I were 24 years old when we got married. A few months after we moved into a small third floor walk up in Arlington Heights, we got a call. The fellow said “I would like to welcome you to the neighborhood and stop by and bring you a present.” I looked at Donna and briefly explained. She shrugged – “maybe it’s the ‘welcome wagon‘.” I turned back to the phone. “Sure” I said. And we set up a time for him to visit. A present. Sounded nice.
A week or so later there was a knock at the door and there stood this smiling chap holding a bag. “May I come in?” “Sure,” I said. “May I sit down?” “Sure.” With that, he started telling us about how Donna and I needed to plan for the future. The best thing that we could do for ourselves would be to plan for that day when we wouldn’t be around. Donna and I looked at each other. The fellow wanted to sell us plots — ideally a 6 pack — in Memory Gardens which was down the road. “This is the best time to buy,” he said. I guess they were having a sale. . . .
We did not buy plots that night – or any night. But we did get the free – and to this day – incredibly memorable – gift. Two tubes of Pringles potato chips.