First Dates

During the past few weeks, a lot of thoughts of years gone bye has prompted me to spend time looking through old yearbooks and pictures from the late 1950s and early 1960s. I remember some of the things that I really enjoyed then before I had real responsibilities. Going to dances and meeting new girls and how long it took to get the courage to walk up and ask a girl to dance with me. I was shy and always afraid that she would say no or that I would get my words mixed up. I was almost surprised that some would look at me and put their hand out for me to lead her to the dance floor. Sometimes the song would be half over and the next song would be a fast song and I would not be as confident in my feet so I would thank her and lead her back to the area she was before. Sometimes, the girl was a far better dancer than me (it did not take much) and that is fun for the guy. Most guys will not admit that they have two left feet, but a girl that dances really well will follow your lead and make you look like you know what you are doing. I loved those dances whether they were teen-hops or later the special dances like The Star Dust Ball (I think that is right) or Senior Proms where I wore a Tux and thought I looked like an adult.

I remember taking a sweet red-headed girl to the 9th Grade Prom at Burbank. She was sweet for not laughing at my dancing. That was my first date when I drove the car to pick her up and take her to the school. I did not have my driver’s license yet, only the learner’s permit so my Mom was in the backseat, even though she had never even been behind the wheel before. Dad’s decision, so OK. I still have the picture from that night. I remember just a couple of weeks into the summer, I had saved some money and done a few things for Dad and he agreed to let me use the car for a real date without Mom in the backseat. I asked that sweet red-headed girl if she would go to the movies with me. I almost did not know how to act when she said yes. I remembered talking to her Mom again before we left her house it was a long conversation and her Dad joined the conversation. I remember putting my arm around her shoulder and her sitting in the middle of the seat next to me. I remember kissing her on the cheek while we were stopped at a light and not having any idea what she would do. That was the first time I had ever kissed a girl. We went to the Garden Oaks Theater, but I don’t remember a thing about the movie we watched. No that was not the girl I married, but it was a time in my life that I remember well.

Most of those my age can tell a story similar to this with their unique situation, but we don’t do that much these days. We may watch a movie with our kids or Grandkids that have similar scenes, but we don’t take time to tell our stories. We just say I remember the “good ole days”, but that does not explain why we smile when we say it. During those moments we shared with someone we liked and enjoyed being with, nothing else mattered. No smartphones, no commercials every 7 minutes, no other people trying to talk louder than the other people in the room – just you and your date. The feeling that you were so lucky that she was with you. Youth was an awkward time with many firsts and many disappointments. Those disappointments and the effort to try again and improve your relationship skills were useful in preparing for real life. To know how to bounce back up when you get knocked down. We learned how Puppy Love felt, what a broken heart felt like, and most of all we learned that life goes on. We did not want to do harm to ourselves or others, we just looked forward to another opportunity to try again with someone new. That is how I will describe the “good ole days” from the youth’s perspective. I believe it gives people grounding with relationships that seem to be missing today.