Here we go....

I've been set to a dismal task; Dredge up some humiliating memories from long ago, and lay them out here for all to see. So, of course, I'm jumping at it! What normal blogger wouldn't?

David McMahon over on the other side of the planet, has asked his readers to spill their guts about the first girl that dumped them, and wants to know what I'd say to the lady if I ever saw her again today. I think I've already mentioned this little drama in a previous post, but here goes nothin' again anyway.

Her name was Marsha, and we were both about 8 or 9 years old. Se lived next door to me in England when my family was stationed there in the late 1960s. Her folks had the other half of the duplex we were living in, base housing for Americans in a town called Carpenders park, north of London. That place was a snake pit. We moved in there when I was about 6, and all the older kids went after me because I was big enough to be about 10. I didn't have a big brother to show me how to defend myself, and dad was too busy playing golf to notice and teach me a thing or two. Useless bastard!

Anyway, I spent the first few years trying to avoid other people, and the constant fights, and didn't start to go out till I got a bit older and eventually found a set of friends to hang with. By the time I was 8 or 9, I began to find my place there and have a better time. Marsha moved in at about that time, and she and I began to hang out together. Her folks were DOD civilians, while mine were Air Force. We were having a great time, going everywhere together, and playing around, but there was never any kissing or anything involved in it. Then one day, out of the blue, she lowered the boom on me.

I went out to play one summer day and saw her sitting on the edge of the playing field where we kids used to play kick ball. She was sitting with another girl and watching the guys play. I walked up to them and started to talk to Marsha, but she cut me off coldly and told me that she wasn't going to play with me any more. I was devastated. Felt like someone had shot me. I walked home and climbed to the top of the little fence that divided the front yards of the two living quarters and I cried my eyes out.



Here's a shot of that fence, to the right of my folks there. That's my mom and dad, and our dog Missy, making home-made ice cream out in front of the house on some Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, I cried my eyes out for a good while. At one point her father came out their front door and asked me what was wrong. I told him, through the tears, gasping for air, that "Marsha doesn't love me any more!" He made some sort of face and turned and walked back in the house, and probably cracked up laughing after closing that door.

I have no memory of Marsha after that. I moved on to other things, and other friends. I have no idea where she is now, or what happened to her after all that, but I have no feelings of ill will toward her today. Hell, we were babies, and her folks probably put her up to it, thinking we were spending too much time together. I hope she's had a great life, and has lots of kids, and now a few grand kids.

I never had another girlfriend in school. There was never any fumbling in the dark in the back seat of a car, or French kissing at dances, because I never got a chance to try anything in the back of a car, and I never went to any school dances. I tried a few times to get close to a few girls here and there, but none of them ever responded. there were too many cooler, smoother guys around for them to choose from.

I was always the big geeky new kid, and soon learned to avoid the humiliation and stay to myself. The choices I made then impacted the rest of my life. I chose to hang with friends who didn't date, and we all stayed home on Saturdays, watched Saturday Night Live, confirmed in how much smarter we were than all the others, and together avoided the possible humiliation of demonstrating otherwise in public. I read a lot of books, and learned to love the things that made me the educator that I am today. But you could fill the encyclopedia with all the normal things I never learned. I kick myself for that now, but there's nothing I can do to go back and change any of it.

It's a long boring story that none of you need to hear. Frankly, I'm tired of thinking about it. The good news is that now, at this late stage of my life, I'm finally trying to catch up on a few things and work out a few of those lingering issues, and things are going pretty well. Enough said.

So Marsha, if you're out there, I hope you're happy and healthy, and I hope you've had a big family, a great career, and a happy life. Cheers.