Teen Dream

     Sunday March 5th, 1978. Nassau Coliseum, Long Island.  I was 13 years old and this was, by far, the most incredible day in my young life. I was about to see the love of my life, Shaun Cassidy!!! AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
      The show was sold out, but my father had managed to purchase 4 tickets and I was allowed to invite 2 of my friends. There was no question how would come with me for this miraculous event, my best friends Susan and Mary Ellen.
      The cacophony of screaming teen boppers grew louder as the arena filled, anticipation mounting until it was almost palpable, but I was oblivious of it all. My heart slammed in my chest, excitement coursed through my veins until I thought I would burst. I tugged on my father's shirt sleeve for the millionth time. "Dad," I shouted above the din, "what time is it?" The show was scheduled to begin at
2.  He pulled his cuff back so I could see his watch. 1:40, a mere 20 minutes; but to me it was almost a lifetime. Would I last that long?
      1:55. I turned to Susan next to me, "Let's get the banner ready!"
We had ripped a white sheet lengthwise and painted, "YOU'RE OUR TEEN DREAM!!!" in the brightest red we could find. Susan unfolded it, gave one end to Mary Ellen and grabbed the other end, while she held up the middle. We turned towards each other for one final delirious moment. Suddenly, all of the lights went out, plunging all us into darkness. For a nanosecond there was a collective silence. OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!!!
      We heard him before we saw him, He was singing the first verse of one of hit songs:
                                                                   "Well I was sixteen
                                                                     and sick of school
                                                                     I didn't know what I wanted to do
                                                                    I bought a guitar
                                                                   I got the feeling
                                                                   That's Rock 'n Roll"
     Just as he sang the last note, the entire stage explode with blinding light. And there he was...my sweetheart, the only guy I would ever love, Shaun Cassidy.
     A few years later, I met my first boyfriend, Michael. After an agonizing soul searching, I decided that it was time for Shaun and I to move on. I promised that he would always have a special place in my heart.
     Shaun took the news very well.


                                                                     
     


     

Don't Laugh

My first attempt at poetry. Tell me what you think.

Snowflakes

Cold

Cold air

Cold heart

Cold soul

I think I was about 7 and was ironing

The never ending chore

With only one happy thought

Warmth

Gram

She was at least a million years old

Wiser than God

Laughed at the Devil

She stepped silently into the room,

Placed her hand on the freshly starched shirts of my father’s

Both of us knowing they’d be ruined by tomorrow’s light

It didn’t matter; he and Momma had to look respectable

When they entered the bar.

Gram’s touch was as light as a butterfly,

Filled with rainbows

Promise

Hope

Draped in the black wool shawl

I’d knitted her for Christmas last year,

Disaster though it was,

She wore it everywhere.

Proudly.

“Come child”,

Her voice was a caress,

Like the finest velvet.

And for a moment,

I forgot who I was.

We stepped out onto the covered porch

I held her elbow as we descended

The icy steps

She looked up

Up

Up

At the steel gray sky

As snow silently fell,

Covering all of the ugliness

“Look Emma…”

Her voice was barely a whisper.

Her finger, gnarled with arthritis,

Gestured to the snowflakes

Accumulating on her shawl.

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

Yes. Yes, they were. All intricate designs of crystal lace.

“You know something?” She leaned close to me, her voice the softest whisper

I shook my head.

“No two snowflakes are alike.”

My head spun so fast, I felt the world tilt.

“Really? Honest-to-God?”

Her smile warmed me

Warmed my cold, cold heart.

“My dearest Emma…”

She caressed my cheek,

“You will always be my snowflake.”

 

What's Your Name, Little Girl, What's Your Name?"

I probably shouldn't write about this because it happened within the last year, but...well, all is fair in Love and Laughter. Anyway, I met this guy, Brett, on one of the more reputable dating sites. We went through the usual process of emailing, talking on the phone before agreeing to a 'Meet and Greet' at the only local bar in town. As a rule, I don't like to meet an online date at a night, especially at a bar, but Brett seemed like a straight-up kind of guy and the place we were meeting was only a few a miles from my house should a quick escape be necessary. I arrived first and waited as close to the bar's entrance as I could so we wouldn't miss each other. When I saw long, jean clad legs unfold from the Ford pickup, I was intrigued. As he stood, adjusting his Stetson (it had to be a Stetson-- a guy like this would only wear the best), he glanced towards the entrance and spotted me, certainly catching my curious expression; I mean, this guy was hot, Mel Gibson hot. So why was he looking for girls on a dating site? Then again, I wasn't exactly chopped liver...We chose a table outside, away from all of the ruckus at the bar, ordered drinks and talked ourselves speechless. It wasn't until the waitress reminded us that it was 'last call' that we realized that it was already 2 am. Brett held my hand casually as we walked towards my car. He whispered so softly that I could barely hear his "May I?" as he kissed me so ...tenderly...that I didn't want him to stop. Ah, but alas, he did, stepping away towards his truck. "I had a real nice time tonight," he smiled.
     " Me too." I felt like a teenager on her very first date. I turned to unlock my car.
     "Hey, hang on there, darlin'...I just thought of something."
 Oh really?? I'll do anything, I promise!!
       "I have to make a run down to Atlanta tomorrow morning to make a delivery" He had told me earlier that he and his brother manufactured a specific tool necessary for hand-dipped candles. Didn't make any sense to me, but what did I know?  "I'd sure appreciated the company, especially with a lady as beautiful as you."
Did I have anything going on tomorrow? Hell no!!  "Okay..."

Brett and I headed southwest to Atlanta. We bantered back and forth, and time seemed to fly by the time we backed towards the Receiving Dock of our destination.. While Brett and the Receiving Foreman named Rick unloaded the. truck, I found my way to the ladies room. I washed my hands and glanced at the reflection in the mirror above the sink. Damn, I looked pretty good for a 40ish year old broad. I sauntered back to the receiving area and found Brett and Rick shootin' the shit. Then Rick's gaze settled on me and he asked," And who is this lovely lady, Brett?"
     "Oh damn, sorry Rick. This is Lisa."
LISA??? Was he nuts?! LISA????
Rick nodded his head in approval, "Pretty name, Lisa is. Reminds me of that 'ol painting hanging somewhere in France.  Well, it was very nice to meet you, Miss Lisa.. Keep an eye on this guy," he motioned with his thumb to Brett. I just smiled and climbed in the passenger side of the truck. Lisa?? Where the hell did he dream that one up? I mean, Lisa is a beautiful name-if that's indeed your name. But Brett and I had been emailing, phoning, had spent hours together last night and this morning talking about, what I'd assumed was everything. How could he possibly not know my name?

Brett climbed into the truck and started the engine. "Rick's a good guy. Sure took a liking to you," he grinned before we pulled onto the highway. I tried to think of a tactful way to correct his mistaking my name, but there wasn't one.
     "Hey, I'm starved, " Brett announced, "Wanna get some lunch?"
     " My name's not Lisa." I blurted it out so fast, that I almost didn't understand myself.
     " Whaaaat? Your name's not-"
     "Lisa. My name isn't Lisa. It's Kim."

Needless to say, Brett and "Lisa" never make it to a third date. And  after that little mishap, I insist on being called Kimberley, then inevitably Kimmie. I don't think my name is a difficult one to remember. Unless you're a Stetson-wearing guy named Brett.