Here's To the Girls

This was originally published on FB. I'm reposting to encourage people to read my Blog. New Entries coming. Subscribe at Dr. John's Blog
My last post had mostly to do with growing up in the 50's and early 60's and, because it was about being a boy, it was about being with the boys. But there came a time when it became about the girls. (In all fairness, for some of us it remained about the boys but for most of us it turned to thoughts of the fairer sex at around 13.)

The rituals of dating back in the day were so much more structured and rule governed! How we navigated it is something to still cause amazement. Things were not casual! The girls wore so much more clothes than they do now. Going on a date took girls time. I mean they had to fix their hair. Remember, prior to about 1968, we were still in the era of "big hair." Many a love's labor was indeed lost because it was a night to wash hair. This mysterious ritual apparently involved metal cylinders, salves, gels, nets, and machinery, not to mention gallons of peroxide. Girls "did" their hair; often in packs. Of course, "I can't, I have to wash my hair," was also a kiss-off. One waited anxiously after hearing that line to hear the hoped for follow-up, "But I'm free tomorrow." Without the follow-up, a guy was left to dangle like a hooked fish that was not even attractive enough to throw back in the water but was abandoned to slowly, and silently, expire on the dock.

Of course, when we began dating, none of us was old enough to drive. We had to rely upon the mercies of our parents to escort us. This was amazingly awkward. It was generally the guy's responsibility to arrange transportation but on occasion the girl's parents would drop her off. My favorite dates took place at my house or a girl's house. Generally I preferred a girl's house. Living in a tiny row house, there was no place to have privacy, not to mention that I had a younger brother who delighted in sitting on the steps in his underwear. (This was actually the result of his prepubescent hypersexuality, which he never outgrew, but I won't go into that.) I tended to date above my class and so all of my girlfriends at least lived in semi-detached houses. 

I remember, during one of my first dates, when I was maybe 14, I gave my date a string of hickeys all around her neck. Her parents were not amused. I honestly don't know what got into me except for my intense desire to get into her, which I knew was not about to happen. My mouth suddenly became my primary (and only) available erogenous zone. Of course she was banned from ever seeing me again but, in a manner that held me in good sway over the years, I groveled and debased myself to her parents until they relented. From then on, my romantic escapades did not leave marks!

To this day I swear that the girls I dated had devices on their chests that signaled their mothers if my hands strayed within 3 inches of their daughter's breasts. As long as we were only kissing, we could be in bliss in the living room. As soon as my itchy twitchy fingers began to close in on those globes of imagined Nirvana, some mother would come through offering, cookies, cake, tea, "I just need to get a magazine" and my guilty hands would fly from their botched appointment with paradise.

No, the only real sexual pleasure to be had was pornography. In my youth pornography consisted of the lingerie section of the Sears catalog, especially the Juniors. The only other pornography was 8mm black and white "smokers" that one stole from one's father, who had them to show at the VFW. These films were notable for the fact that the men always left their socks on.

There were a couple of girls whose mothers insisted upon coming with us on dates to chaperon. These relationships did not last long. See, there had to be the promise at least of some action. Kissing was fine, at least for the first year or so. Then we were into baseball; 1st base, 2nd base, etc. I actually am one of the few guys who executed a balk. Unfortunately while this resulted in a dead ball, I was not awarded an extra base.

In the 60's girls often wore girdles. These were undergarments that were the modern equivalents of chastity belts. They were absolutely impenetrable. Girls wore them ostensibly so that they might look slimmer. Indeed, the girdle made girls thighs look like overstuffed tubes of polenta. To this day I believe girls only wore these contraptions to make it easier to say "no." ("I can't I'm wearing a girdle.") To prove my point, after 1969 I never saw another girdle. Girls went from layers of protection to "Hey sailor!" More on the sexual revolution though in another note. This is about the end of the age of innocence, at least mine.

I was not especially popular with the girls when I was a young teen. This is because I was something of a dork. I was a singer, which was not cool, especially since I was not a rock singer. I was into obscure blues artists which was not (yet) cool. I was scrawny and non-athletic (not cool). And to top it off, I was in such denial about how much of a dork I was that I strutted about like I was hot (which made me more dorky). This did finally change, but not until I got into my older teens.

Prior to about 1967, girls still got pinned, ala Bye Bye Birdie. If you didn't pin a girl you gave her your ring. If not a ring, an ID bracelet. I think the first time I went steady, I so loaded my girlfriend down with cheap metal jewelry that she caused an insane racket just by moving. At least I always knew where she was.

I have always fallen in love gladly and rapidly. While I have been happily married for many years now, my wife is not my first love as I know I am not hers. Indeed, it is in some part our previous experiences that have allowed us to understand how to maintain a relationship (so far). But every other woman I ever loved, I loved intensely. Some of the most intense loves were when I was a young guy. I still love everyone of those girls you know. Not the women they are today, I don't know most of them anymore. No, I am still in love with the young girls of my memory, frozen forever in time. Even though virtually every one of them broke my heart, stomped me flat and left me hanging, every once in a while, like tonight, I take them out and they make me smile and sigh. I still love you girls and I'm glad we shared some time together all those years ago..