Author: 610rrandtr

The Viciousness of Girls As I mentioned , Steve was 3 years older than I. He told me this story several years after we started our get-togethers, after I vented to him the way Dan had treated some girl. There was a junior high dance in the gym. As was the norm in the 60’s,… Continue reading Steve’s scar

In case you doubted what a monster father is really like The complete recording: Cliche phrase? Maybe, but Kent State was a “defining moment” for anyone over 12 years old. You can be killed for standing up against the war. No one will give a shit, and the person that killed you gets to walk… Continue reading Kent State–I Hang My Head

Now I ask ya: What’s life without the ironclad discipline of a schedule? “Operation: Morning” begins the night before. Mom pulled her car out of the driveway into the street. The old man arrives around 5:30, pulling right into the garage. She pulled back in behind him after supper. Downstairs alarm first. She gets up,… Continue reading The Morning Schedule

Just to show how sheltered we were One thing I will never forget about seventh grade was that we never saw a brunette before. All the girls in our little class were either blondes or browns. Now we have 3–count ’em–girls with seriously long hair black as a midnight panther. Hey, didn’t Delilah have black… Continue reading Exotic Girls aka Greetings to the New Brunette

Ah, to bathe once again in hormones……… One of the first things I had to do in junior high was bring the nurse my hay fever meds. Until that wonderful first frost lifted the curse of the cat people, I needed my pills to keep from devolving into a sneezing pile of protoplasm. So I… Continue reading I’m not in Kansas anymore

And people wondered why we didn’t trust anyone over 30 Off the bus, we came in the front door (not the side ones with 1910 concrete stating “Boys” and “Girls”) to be greeted by signs saying ‘Welcome’ and ‘Turn left for auditorium’. The auditorium looked huge. No folding chairs–it had actual seats bolted down. It… Continue reading The Foon

neither rain nor snow…. Taking the bus to our ‘new’ old junior high via a long ride to ‘poor town’. Early September morning. We’re half asleep. Not even the rabbits in the field are up this godamn early. The shoes are tight, my shirt is stiff with Easy On spray starch. No one murmers, we’re… Continue reading Get on the Bus!

The last gasps of the dying debutante nation. In August, I got a letter on high end paper that suspiciously resembled a wedding invite. The formal invite inside was for a cotillion dance to be held at the big hotel downtown in early October. The last chance for snooty mothers in rich town to parade… Continue reading Cotillion

One summer, I had my tonsils out when I was around 7 or 8. Too many sore throats. I know it’s unheard of today, but–my mother stayed in the same room with me. She was having some tests before she had her hysterectomy. In the sixties, they used ether to knock you out. It was… Continue reading My LSD Trip

Daddy makes some changes… In sixth grade, daddy left borough council. He never explained why; I know he wasn’t paid much. However, he was thrown a bone: one year on the county-wide committee to bring sewers to more rural areas. I’m betting other council members grew increasingly uneasy with his bigotry and racism. Those guys… Continue reading Will wonders ever cease?