Hi, it’s Christina –
Good Morning! Today’s blog
is completely personal. It has NOTHING to do with writing, marketing, books,
Tweets, there won’t even be a writing challenge today. So, if you want to stop
reading now, I totally understand.
(The photos are not quite synced up to the paragraphs, but you'll get the idea.)
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| Yup, these were like mine - not that I would be photographed in them. |
Picture if you will, it’s 1978, the height of loud bands, lava lamps, psychedelic
posters, and “what was I thinking?” fashion. Now imagine a twelve year old girl
with rose tinted coke-bottle glasses, frizzy dark red hair, not the clearest
skin, and a big mouth, trying to navigate her first day of middle school in a
brand new town.
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| My glasses are in my lap. If you look close you can see the dents from them on my nose. |
Got the image? Not overly appealing is it? Fast forward to ninth period,
the last period of the never-ending school day, and it’s gym class. Gym class
where for the very first time you were required to change clothes, in a locker room,
in front of roughly forty, not so nice, cliquey girls who have all known each
other since pre-school. (Back then you were born and raised in our small town,
and if someone new moved in, they must have been an alien from outer space.)
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| Not really my gym class, but you get the picture |
Thanks to thirty second changing abilities as the rest of the girls made
their way to the gymnasium, I was able to survive the ordeal without having to
crawl under a rock. So there I was, sporting terry cloth short-shorts, a
matching (fabric wise if not color wise) shirt, knee high tube sock – complete with
three stripes (two weren’t cool), and brand spanking new, could be seen from
space, white Keds (we couldn't afford Adidas). Yup, I was the fashion plate.
I manage to make it to where everyone else was seated, thankfully
without tripping and landing on my coke-bottles, and sat – slightly off to the
side because of course no one would make room for the new girl by them – and I
observed the class. My first thought was, wow some of these kids are big. Little
did I know at the time, we were the only mixed grade gym class.
The gym teacher voice boomed through the room, causing a burning behind
my eyes. I had never in my life seen such a large, frightening woman. She
reminded me of Bela Karolyi in drag. I prayed the gym floor would open up and
swallow me whole.
Then, because I was too busy being terrified, I completely
missed what the Amazon said, and had to scramble to catch up with the class. Thank
God she hadn’t scared my deductive reasoning abilities out of me, and I was
able to properly line up with the other girls on the north wall of the gym. The
boys were line up on the south.
The lines began to move eastward along the walls, then turned
toward the middle where each boy and girl was paired up. As I shuffled forward,
I kept eyeing the door on the east wall, and wondering if anyone would notice
if I slipped out, but a move so bold would have required courage, and after the
day I’d already endured, bravery was in short supply.
As luck would have it, the string of boys my age ended a few girls
before me, and I was paired up with one of the ninth grade boys. He was taller
than me, which wasn’t a difficult thing to be, I believe the proper word back
then was husky, and was turning several shades of red. Okay, he may be older,
but he wasn’t liking this any better than I was, so at least I had someone to
hopefully commiserate with.
Next the Amazon with the megaphone voice started barking more orders and
I began to wonder if they spoke a different type of English from my previous New
Jersey town. My confusion must have shown on my face, because the guy next to
me, mumbled something. As much as I hated to, I had to ask him to repeat what
he said. For a nanosecond, he looked me in the eye, blurted “Square Dancing”
then looked away. |
| Cheri took this picture of us |
Mother of God! This is gym class! We’re supposed to be playing kick ball
or dodge ball or having scooter races, not square dancing. What kind of
cockamamie town did my mother move me to? That door along the east wall was
looking better and better.
We were herded into groups of eight, and told to square off. Obviously I
was the only one in the room who had absolutely no clue what I was supposed to
be doing. My only consolation was none of the other kids looked all that happy
about having to dance.
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| One of many parties at my 1st apartment |
The music began, the Amazon began to squawk out commands, and everyone
obeyed, except me. My partner took pity on me and dragged me along through the
steps. When the time came to promenade, and I had to take his hands, I was met a
with sweaty, clammy, mess. As nervous, and as embarrassed as my painfully shy
partner was, he was still trying to help me.
Well, we made it through that God awful day, and the next three weeks of
square dancing. By the end of it, we had become friends. He would look in my
eyes when we spoke to each other, and his hands were dry when we needed to promenade.
Since he was in 9th grade, and I was in 7th, that
9th period gym class was the only time I would get to see him. Then
June came, school was out, and the next year he was going to the high school. I
would probably never see my first friend in my new town ever again.
Fast forward to August the following year, to the summer between 8th
and 9th grade. I have made a very best friend, Cheri, and she played
a saxophone, and was going to be in the high school marching band. Since the two
of us were inseparable, I went with her to band camp at the high school. I sat
on the sidelines, watched, and fell in love. Yup, I’m a total dork, but I
thought marching band was the coolest thing in the world.
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| Believe it or not, this picture was taken right before I got ready for the date. Check out our wallpaper... |
The only problem was, I didn’t know how to play an instrument, I couldn’t
read music, and I was fairly certain I had some form of impairment because right
& left confused me to no end. The band director didn’t have an issue with
all my shortcomings, and even helped me to decide on an instrument. So my
entire freshman year, I went to every band practice, every game, and every
competition, even though I was just learning how to play the flute, and
everyone else in the band had been playing since 4th grade. I had
some serious catching up to do.
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| Our engagement picture |
Back to August and band camp. Yup, you guessed it, my square dance
partner, was in the band. He played trumpet. The friendship proved fortuitous,
because whenever the freshmen were told to do any of the grunt work, he, an upperclassman, would say "not you two" to my best friend and me, and we’d be able
to avoid the abuse.
Over the next few years, we were in the same circle of friends, so we
were together quite often. His best friend, Kevin, “adopted” me as his little
sister, and me, an only child loved having a big brother. Kevin and I were inseparable
as well. We were best buds, but that was all, just best buds.
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| March 31, 1990 |
June of 1982 rolled around, and Kevin and my square dance partner, Paul,
graduated high school. Kevin went off to the Marines, and my partner went to
community college. Kevin would write me every day, and come to visit whenever
he was on leave. During one of those leaves, my friend Lisa confessed to me she
had a huge crush on Kevin, and begged me to set them up. Being a good friend, I
did.
BUT, my “brother” had a stipulation. He would only go out with Lisa if
we went on a double date, with Paul. I loved Lisa dearly, and I loved my “big
brother”, and I KNEW they would be perfect together, but there was no way in
H.E. double hockey sticks I was going on a date with Paul. Paul, my “brother’s”
best friend, Paul the trumpet player, Paul, my square dance partner; he was a
friend and nothing more, and I had seen him exactly once since he graduated
high school.
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| Our 1st addition - PJ |
Lisa’s tears had me relenting, but believe me, she got an earful the
whole time we were getting ready. Whatever, I could live through a movie and
then getting some ice cream at Bricken’s afterwards, but that was it. Deal
done. Obligation complete. Lisa and Kevin would be together, and I could go on
my merry way.
What do they say about best-laid plans?
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| St. Maartin - our 1st "Why the heck did we get married?" weekend. |
Well, twenty-five years ago today, I married Paul. Paul, my “brother’s”
best friend, Paul the trumpet player in the marching band, Paul, who with the
aid of my “brother”, dragged me, kicking and screaming, into the back (3rd)
practice room in the band room and proceeded to give my sixteen spanks on my 16th
birthday, Paul, my 7th grade square dance partner.
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| Our family grew... |
Over the past thirty-seven years, we have had good times and bad. We’ve
laughed, cried, and fought – it gets real ugly around here when the Giants play
the Cowboys. We moved from an apartment to a condo to a house, and we managed
without killing each other. We survived raising three children. He puts up with
my strong personality, my less than June Cleaver housekeeping skills, and my harebrained
ideas.
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| ... and grew |
We are still polar opposites, and we don’t see eye to eye on much, yet
somehow we’re making it work. I give full credit to our “Why the heck did we
get married?” weekends. Every 12 – 18 months, since our son, our first born,
was two, Paul and I spend a long weekend away, just the two of us. Our friends
and family teased us about this, but now, twenty-five years later, most of them
understand how important those “us” times were.
Now, as our last little chick starts to prepare to leave the nest, we
know when she’s gone, we’ll still be okay. We will find things to do together,
because even after all these years, we still like each other, we laugh
together, and we still enjoy each other’s company. A rare and beautiful gift
for sure, and with God’s grace, I will be able to do this same type of blog
post when we are celebrating our 50th Anniversary.
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| Our 1st WtHDWGM? weekend |
Okay,
just to tie up some loose ends for you, before I go. 1) “The Amazon” – actually
turned out to be one of the nicest people, and now as an adult I realize she’s
not all that large – 5’9” perhaps. 2) Square dancing ended up being one of my
favorite gym activities, though they no longer have it as part of the school
curriculum. 3) Although I don’t get to see her ever, I’m still friends with
Cheri, and she was even one of the bridesmaids at our wedding. 4) Lisa and
Kevin ended up getting married, but unfortunately it didn’t work out, but they
have two beautiful daughters and they remain good friends. 5) Our next “Why the
heck did we get married?” weekend is going to be the first week in June, a
cruise to Bermuda, an anniversary gift from my mother.
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