1972 - . . .and he has no idea.

. . .and he has no idea.

It’s 1972 – You’re Somewhere Around 16 – You Live In L.A. – You’re In High School – You’re A Nervous Wreck

1972 -  . . .and he has no idea.
. . .and he has no idea.

KHJ – Charlie Tuna – January 14, 1972 – 93KHJ from Mixcloud

You’ve been working on that letter for two months. You’ve known that guy since 3rd grade – you’ve been in love with that guy since 6th grade. Here you are; five years later, 11th grade. A year from graduating and you finally get enough courage to write “the letter” – yeah, the one you pour everything out that you’ve been dragging around in your head since eternity. The letter you started a good 200 times before settling in and letting it out. Handwritten, misspelled – run-on sentences – the great big heart-on-sleeve Love Letter.

You slipped it in his locker during passing period. He doesn’t know it’s from you – he has no idea. Not a clue.

The guy you’ve known since 3rd grade doesn’t even know your name. Has maybe said hi once. Wouldn’t know you if he fell over you. Your friends think you’re crazy – you have friends who are friends of his who say he is a knucklehead – can’t walk and chew gum at the same time. Has no potential.

Still. He’s been living inside your head for way too long – and it’s now or never.

So you sit there – three feet away. You try to act nonchalant, like nothing of any particular importance is going on in your life at the moment. You wonder if you’re too young to have a heart attack. You wonder if anyone else can hear the pounding – it’s so loud you swear its echoing down the hall. You become fixated with anything that’s going on outside the classroom window; a leaf, a breeze, an errant fly. You will yourself not to move. You are convinced you just may throw up.

There’s a tap on your shoulder. You aren’t entirely sure, but you think you’ve jumped out of your skin.

“Two R’s in Darryl, by the way”.

Not sure if the voice is real or imagined. You slowly turn your head to find the voice is attached to a face leaning in and is six inches away from you. It comes complete with grin.

A fine time for every ounce of saliva to drain from your mouth and your palms reduced to soaked rags.

Love just does those things.

And to remind you that 1972, like most years, came with its own soundtrack, here is 90 minutes of Charlie Tuna and Boss Radio KHJ, from January 14, 1972.




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