Friday, January 20, 2012

SECRET TEENAGE MEMORIES

"I'm still haunted by the things I did for a Klondike Bar"
....Anonymous
Some funny things I remembered about my teen-aged years. I better write them down before I forget them.

This is based on a letter to my brother who is 2 years younger. It's about things that happened 50+ years ago, so spare me the righteous indignation.


Dear Bro,

Remember when I had one of my boyfriends over and you put on some music for us to listen to when you went to bed? A zillion years ago? He and I laughed when we heard it and you came back in a huff and took it back upstairs. It was John Phillip Sousa's marches. Not exactly the most romantic music I've ever heard. I hope you have reconsidered your taste in music for romantic occasions.

I seem to remember I mentioned something to you recently about "sexual abuse"? I don't think that was technically true. That was what Mom and Dad thought. I thought I was gonna marry the guy. I guess they thought I was too young. I must not have agreed with them (like when they hinted I should stop smoking) so instead of them taking me to a psychologist or a minister to advise me, they took me to a lawyer who yelled at me for 30 minutes about how hard it is to be married and make it in the world and to raise kids, etc. (I bet he never said all that to his wife!) It's one of my funnier memories. Mom and Dad were strange. Or they were just horrified to learn that girls like sex as much as boys.

One time, too, I took one of Mom and Dad's miniature whiskeys to a teen-aged party. I found out I was the only one there with a spiked drink. The party was really boring and the "band" was playing the same unknown song over and over. So I called Mom and said there was drinking at the party and would she come and get me. Bet she bragged to her friends for years about that. I wasn't even invited to the party, I crashed it.

I came home from a party one time drunk on sloe gin. (I heard from guys drinking boiler makers that they wouldn't touch sloe gin with a ten foot pole. It was a college-aged party. I was almost 18.) I came in the front door and discovered Mom had waited up for me. So I faked being sober and said good-night, went upstairs and fell onto my bed completely wiped-out. I prided myself on pretending to be sober at a moment's notice. (I haven't had a drink now for 37 years. It stopped being funny and became, well...just stupid.)

Do you have any funny secrets? Like the time you came home drunk and asked me for a goodnight kiss. You probably forgot that. I said: "Go to sleep, you jerk." That's before dirty words got more acceptable in the 60's. (I learned how to say shit in 1963 and took it from there.) So in the 21st Century I could've said, "Go to sleep, you asshole."

There are just not enough words to describe a younger brother, are there?

I'm in a silly mood but all this is totally true.

Love, Sis


Isn't  this the face of an angel?

PS: Oh yeah, I remember when we were little being mad at you for something so I hit myself on the shoulder and pointed out the red mark to Mom and told her you hit me. Ha ha. But I guess you got even with me the time you locked me out when I came home from school one day. You stood inside and made faces at me laughing that wicked laugh. I was so mad I put my fist through the glass. I got in big trouble for that. (BTW, why didn't you let me in? I had to pee real bad.)

Notice to readers: I might have been a drunken slut but my brother was a BRAT.

We're friends now, and we're both real nice.


My brother wrote me with some teenaged secrets of his own:

Dear Sis,

I remember one time I was walking home from a friend's house late at night because we'd been working on my car there. A local cop pulled up. I looked at him and said; "What?! am I walking too fast?". He said, "Oh it's you. Where's your car?. I told him and he said must be true "because you're wearin' coveralls and have grease on you. Hop in and I'll give ya a ride the rest of the way."

[Our town only had one cop. He had his own car painted to look like a cop car. Gotta love those small towns. ~S]

We used to walk all over too and ride my motorcycle. One night I went the wrong way on a one-way street near the church and the cop was comin' the other way. I stopped. And he stopped and looked at me, then put his hand in front of his face and said, "I didn't see a thing, get out of here." We were only going as far as the house on the corner where the guy lived who was on the back of my motorcycle with a 6 pack we'd just bought at 7-11.

Are these funny or scary? Kids is all nutz.















3 comments:

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

gee - I typed something and musta pushed the wrong key and it went away. Anyway - hey, I wonder what comment was removed? It wasn't mine. Mom knew more of what was going on then either of us thought, some she filled me in on so I'm sure there was more. I remember taking the trash out and keep on going and come back hours later (after Dad went to bed).

Sandy Schairer said...

The comment I deleted was mine. I took it out and added it to the blog.