Big Sal

My friend, Big Sal, was honored this weekend. Her husband and family threw her a big, splashing bash for her 60th birthday. 60 is the new 40 and she doesn't even look 40. As usual, I'm surrounded by freaks of nature -- and she's a natural beauty -- no Joan Rivers plan involved.

She's also crazy. She has crashed more cars than I can count. She put the wrong gas (regular instead of diesel) in her husband's company vehicle. She lost some diamond earrings and convinced that one of her dogs may have eaten them, she spent days checking their poop and having them x-rayed. I don't want to know what that cost.

On her actual birthday, she brought tiaras to the pool on Labor Day and girlfriends walked around with crowns. She is the accessory queen. We all got plastic tiaras but she found a great crown in a second hand store, complete with rhinestones. She also provided boas. She is my shopping guru.

The husband and I showed up at the party, ready to salute our friend. We knew most people but I found it interesting that the first person we met at the top of the stairs was our governor.

She may giggle like a schoolgirl or make us all laugh. She's got friends in high places. Mostly, she shows me what it's like to embrace life, embrace friends and family, and show the rest of us how to balance dignity and abandon.

At the pool on Labor Day, Big Sal was flipping and diving off the board. I did too. (It's a rule that I have to do it at least once a year.)

Once I admired a jacket she was wearing. She gave it to me. She bought it at the Goodwill and she'll find another one.

We call her Big Sal although she is tiny. The "Big" part is a reflection of her spirit and her heart.