Oct 3
The leaves have all turned colour, most of the poplars and all of the ashes have lost their leaves, carpeting the lawn in gold. Today it is grey, windy and cold. There is the hint of snow in the air. I drove to the city today to have breakfast with family who I have been avoiding for a while. I get like that at times. The further south I drove, the worse the weather became, the road turned from dry to wet and as I hit the city limits, it began to snow. Not heavy, but enough to stay on the windshield of the trusty Chev 4X4.
Driving south on 14th street, the snow became harder for a moment and as I drove down the hill past the Winter Club, candidate signs for the upcoming election began to line the road side. Something tweaked the back of my mind as I drove past, but it was fleeting and the snow was heavier as was the traffic and concentration on the road was paramount. Soon I was at the restaurant and the feeling was long gone. We had a nice meal together and my mom got a new nick name. Your Majesty. You had to be there. At 11 we parted ways. It had stopped raining and snowing, but the wind was still blowing hard and cold from the north foretelling what is to come.
As I drove back north on 14th street, I came to a stop at the traffic lights on Northmount drive and once again saw the election signs and the memory at the back of my mind came back. Then, The Story In Your Eyes, by the Moody Blues, came on the radio and the memories flooded in.
In October of 1971, one of my high school friends dad was running for a local alderman. My friend asked some of us if we could help out. One of the things he was looking for, was to have some people standing on a corner waving signs. He said there would be four girls coming along, so I took a look at my buddy Frank, shrugged my shoulders and said why not. Being around girls was always a good thing. So the plan was made and at the end of the school day we headed over to the old ’48 4X4 Willies Jeep Wagon that was our combo transportation/party vehicle.
During the summer, we had used this wonderful vehicle to go camping and partying in the bush and had painted it with black and white zebra stripes. Rumour had it, that it had served as an ambulance in the Korean War, but we didn’t care. It had a lot of room in the back and we had installed a couple of wall mounted bottle openers we had stolen from somewhere in the back. There was no such thing as twist off caps back in those days and ‘church keys’ were always in short supply. I had sprained my ankle some weeks before, so I had the coveted seat in the back behind the driver’s seat perched on top of a couple blanket covered cases of beer. Did I forget to mention there were no seats in the back and only two front doors? My buddy Frank was in the back with me, as normal, and our other buddy Jeff had dibs on the shotgun seat. Frank and I were no dummies. Sitting shotgun meant you had to get out and move the seat forward so other people could get in and out. John of course was driving, it was his Jeep after all. He and Jeff were smoking some, ahem…and discussing which of the four girls they would claim, both of them seemed to know all of them. As if, give me a break. Girls are nice, but hey, no time for that stuff. I could hear the pool hall beckoning me and we had some serious bar time scheduled for that night.
Our school had a long parking lot and it was not uncommon for a bunch of us jocks to play parking lot football at lunch. The girls with cars usually parked in the middle of the lot and sat on the trunks or hoods playing hard at not paying attention to us guys. There was always a gaggle around the girl I had my eye on and her little red Falcon. My task for that day was to play DB and as chance would have it, the ball was thrown to a receiver just in front of this gaggle and I leaped up and intercepted it, forgetting I was not wearing sneakers, but my normal high heeled cowboy boots. Oops. Instead of being the big hero in front of the girls I was in a whole lot of hurt. I couldn’t even put any weight on it, let alone be the tough guy hero and shrug it off and walk away.
So, there Frank and I were in the back of the Jeep a few weeks later chuckling at the non-existent chances of the two lady killers in the front seat, when the four girls showed up. The afternoon had turned sunny and warm and the first three girls crawled into the back, their jackets and purses held in their hands and lover boy Jeff was chatting up the last one. Frank knew the first three, I didn’t, so he introduced Susan, a buxom blond, Vera, a thin long black haired beauty and Carla, another cute black haired wonder. Frank moved over by me to share the beer boxes, leaving the milk crates we had stolen for the girls, who sat across from us. Always the gentleman my buddy Frank. The girls having short skirts had absolutely nothing to do with it.
So, after a few choice words from John about having a time schedule to meet, lover boy, let the last girl get into the jeep and she came in a hurry. I didn’t have time to pull my injured right leg out of the way and she tripped over it and landed right in my lap.
“Hey Marg,” I said. “Long time no see. How was your summer?”
Holy shit, I says to self. She done all growed up over the summer. The little 16 yr old that had asked me dance the February before had blossomed. She was wearing short shorts, a tight yellow sweater and knee high socks. Her short blond hair was now shoulder length and she was about to give me shit for tripping her, when she saw the crutches propped in behind me. Then she jumped off my lap and sat down beside her buddies and that was kind of the end of it. That day.
We had a couple more placard waving sessions together and I thought, what the heck. There is a big dance coming up and it would be kind of nice to have a date for once, so I asked the cute little blond Marg if she would like to go. I also told her I had no wheels and would have to meet her there. Usually a date killer that comment. Not a problem, she said.
The night of the dance, I wandered in. My ankle had healed up enough for me to walk by then, but not wear my well-worn in cowboy boots and my mom absolutely refused to let me out of the house for my big date with sneakers, so had to put on the penny loafers everyone else wore, a turtle neck under an alpaca sweater. But no one talked me out of wearing my nice loose boot cut blue jeans. There she was looking for me at the entrance to the gym where the dance was to held with her gaggle of buddies and ah shit! The tall shapely brunette I had had my eye on since grade ten and sprained my ankle trying to show off for, was one of her buddies! Oh well. Marg and I went in, I paid the fee and we started to have fun. Marg had a twinkle in her eye that you couldn’t help but notice, her playful personality was infectious and at the first break, she dragged me over to hang out with her buddies. Most of them I had grown up with and really, due to the fact that they liked to pick on me all the time, I didn’t really want to be there. Ingrid, the girl I kind of had the hots for and her bestie were nowhere to be seen.
My bud Rob wandered by and started to chat and as the music started asked Vera to dance and by the next break, we were two couples. Rob had a wild ’64 Chevy Impala that we cruised in looking for races and girls and he volunteered to drive the girls home. Marg was staying at Vera’s that night, at least that’s what she said, and it was not all that far away, so we dropped them off and we headed down to the strip to cruise.
That Monday, I noticed Marg was in my biology class. Not only that, but she had a third period spare like I did. Soon after that, we were hanging out together all the time. The next semester we made sure we had as many classes together as we could and found some spare lockers that were empty and moved our stuff into them. We went to the senior prom together and the graduation dance. The next year we were married and two years later parents.
Amazing what one stop light, a song and some election signs can do.
Marg. Have I told you today how much I love you?
