Chimney sweep with guise!
Dave had spotted J, a vision in white.
J was our silver-white blonde. VERY tall, more than even Betty. She was a Rich Town product, and with hair like that, instantly carried a place in the hierarchy. Boys were fascinated, girls wanted to know her. But she colored outside the lines; didn’t dress to show off. No mini-skirts, no heels. And she always smiled–you never heard about her dissing a girl or flirting for fun or revenge. My soon to be ex-friend Bob was fascinated by her, and he had his pick of girls. Even mom, who had her in fifth grade, adored her.
There she stood under a Cotillion spotlight, dazzling in a very short white dress, echoing the 60’s film of Romeo and Juliet. Her legs, now on full view, stretched from here to Philadelphia, even with a pair of flat shoes that looked like they’d been through a war. We were speechless, J never dressed like this. Being from the other side of the tracks, we’d only had her on our radar for a month. God, wait til we tell the guys Monday.
When you danced, she smiled shyly, almost apologetic at what she wore. Unconsciously, she exuded a relaxed, easygoing charm. Which really helped all of us nervous bundles of male hormones.
But what always stuck out was when you looked straight at her, while dancing.
Those soulful deep blue eyes, set off against porcelain-white skin. You were wading in Bermuda-warm tides. She put you at ease with, as Elvis Costello said, “Two sapphires and a couple of rows of pearls”.
Two years later, she swapped beat-up flats for cheerleader saddle shoes and football. Sometimes us guys in the band would yell her name to get a smile and a glimpse of legs (yes, we were musical horndogs).
As sophomore year closed, she tearfully told of her imminent departure from the US with her family. Oh, The humanity! No one ever resigned from cheerleading unless you died, and even then you needed written notice from the county coroner.
Nope, nothing anyone could do. Strangely, I discovered days before she left that she was a rock and roll girl. It would have been cool to have someone to talk music with. Maybe I could have gotten her into Blue Oyster Cult or Springsteen, who knows?
We returned to Junior year, a chasm in our ozone layer. You felt it at house parties, like something nice was missing. The smile and easy conversion were gone; like your favorite record had a skip.
I heard she made it back to the US eventually and has a large internet presence. So, from ‘the young man in the 22nd row,’ this apt song is your theme, J.
Next time–the other two CEOs of Cotillion. Dan Fogelberg has their theme.