So much has changed. So much.
And so I’m wondering. Does this still happen?
I remember being so young. I was in second grade. How old would I be? Seven I think. If my math is right, I think that I was seven years old in second grade.
I had a crush on my Teacher. Little Scotty. I was hot. I was “hot for Teacher”.
Second grade.
Does that still happen? Kids, little kids, having crushes - little candy hearts floating in bubbles over little heads. Kiddie (candy) crushes - for Teachers?
Was that a “Just Me” thing?
I’m thinking no. Not just me. And - not just then. I’m thinking that there is something in our animal kingdom, sentient DNA - there must be - to keep those little hearts welling up. Something timeless.
^^^^^
And from there, fifth grade. My buds and I, we all had a bad crush for Teacher.
But - - - she did not return our love. She did not choose any one of us. She rejected us all. She went from Miss to Mrs, right before our eyes. Broke our little hearts. How could she?
And then sixth grade, I think maybe for the first time, not just me, wide spread, overall interest in peers. No one in particular, but just overall, taking notice. I remember sixth grade - “guy talk, some have been known to call it “locker room talk”. (Sixth grade - locker room talk.)
One girl, she was all the hub, all the bub.
“Is she stuffing?”
Every boy, inquiring mind. We wanted to know.
All the boys in my class, hours of consideration - speculation - long, too long looks - creepy, little creeps…
Snips and snails and puppy dog tails. That’s what little boys are made of.
^^^^^
And then Junior High, jet fuel hormones, and no planes to fly, nothing to do with that stuff. Tons of crushes on this girl and then that.
Boy talk, obsession. A different crush with every season.
Junior High is madness. Peak angst. How does anyone ever make it through that cruel and tortured time?
And on and on
Like government work, all thought and prayer - and nothing - no action - ever - nada - nothing
Until - one day
Lighting strikes.
I’m thinking - opening scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey. (A very old, 1968 movie, with a title that begins with the then 33 years into the future year - 2001. Wrap your head around that. I don’t know. Somehow, it strikes me - funny.) I digress.
Fast forward, eleventh grade. I was sixteen. Not soooo sweet. OK, maybe a little. I was kind of, a little bit - sweet. I went roller skating, a night out, something to do, roller skating was - A Thing - really, it was, quite a thing. Disco music + Roller Skating, like Peanut Butter and Chocolate. A Thing.
There was a DJ spinning tunes at said roller rink. He announced a Sadie Hawkins song. He called - “Sadie Hawkins”, which means that normal protocol is (for a moment) turned upside down.
Boys become prey. Girls choose boys.
And low and behold, two girls walk (skate) up to me and my very good - bestie friend and they tag us. They choo, choo, choose - US.
We practically fell over. We were - High School losers.
**** Seesaw swingin' with the boys in the school
And your feet flyin' up in the air
Singing, hey diddle diddle
With your kitty in the middle
Of the swing like you didn't care ****
(song lyrics - very good, very cool, song lyrics - Boston band - Aerosmith)
^^^^^
Photo:
We were children. Children playing dress up. We were cute, weren’t we? Cute children, kids playing dress up.
Forty five years ago, today. My Parent’s dining room. A photo taken before my High School (cafeteria) Junior Prom.
She lived on the north side of Oneida lake. A haul, long distance relationship - at that age - far away.
Long distance telephone calls. Remember those? Expensive, big money telephone time. (The world WAS bigger then. That’s something that really has changed.)
She told me that she liked the way I moved, the way that I skated to a song. I caught her eye, skating to a Van Halen song, my “style and ease”. “Dance, dance, dance the night away.”
And then, another guy - a closer to (her) home town guy, he caught her eye. Stole my girl. What a floozy.
She gave me the boot. Made me cry. Broke my liddle heart. Heart break.
Hey Bud, Love Hurts. (another song)
But time heals. My Mama said, “there’s lots of fish in the sea”. Did she make that one up?
Some great. More great Girls than not. Girls, love, amore.
The start of my journey - to My Love - My C, to the person, to the place, where I was meant to be.
Pick yourself up. Brush yourself off.
We all gotta start - somewhere.
Forty five years ago. Dance, dance, dance the night away.
I envy you this. Growing up, I liked a couple of girls, been with more than some of my straight friends, but really, I was pushing down the feelings bunched up behind the threatening perception that I was gay. For me, being on the edge the first time of acknowledging my desire to another man, it felt like my synapses would cause the brain cells to melt and I was certain something was quite damaged in me as my body trembled.
So many loves went unconsummated, fear blinding me from seeing that these guys I found so incredible were actually trying to tell me they wanted me. I just couldn’t see it and simply frustrated them and myself. It was a long, hard road, filled with lots of disasters, bad choices, and a bottomless pit of anxiety.
I look at young men growing up gay, or such not defining themselves because they don’t need to, and I think how much easier it would have been for me to be young now, how much more fun I would have had.