Further evidence you’re from another planet.
Big mixup – a mistake. Earth got picked. You got sent.
That’s the only way you could explain it.
And there was that language thing.
Whatever language you’re speaking, nobody’s understanding.
Your dad got it in his head that you needed a girlfriend.
Not just any girlfriend – a special girlfriend.
A girlfriend who goes to your school – a girlfriend who is in your grade and who you have avoided like the plague ever since Junior High.
Cynthia was the last person you wanted to go anywhere on a date with. She was annoying – she had a voice like a fire hydrant. She was testimony to the virtues of Aquanet hairspray. She was a Department store full of opinions. She wore braces.
Why was your dad so gung-ho on your meeting up with her?
She was the daughter of your dad’s boss at work. A guy he had been trying to impress and get on the good side of for at least the past year.
Why the sudden interest in your romantic life?
Dad was in line for a promotion. A promotion that meant a big raise – an office with a window – and moving to San Francisco.
Two out of three were okay. You’ve been bugging your parents for a stereo ever since Surfin’ Safari came out. The weekly skirmishes over the Magnavox in the Living Room had an aura of World War 2 1/2 around it. Dad was a Percy Faith kind of guy – Theme From A Summer Place was a prerequisite to falling out of bed on Saturday morning. Crossing the 38th Parallel was when you came home with a brand new copy of Eve Of Destruction and did your best Barry McGuire impression to your horrified parents.
So a raise would mean a stereo – and maybe a down payment on a used car, since you’d be getting your license before Summer.
Moving to San Francisco? Leave all your friends behind and move to a place where it rained all the time? Not real hot on the idea. But the pluses outweighed the minuses. So you swallowed your pride and agreed to call Cynthia, think of something pleasant to say and laugh a lot.
She had no idea who you were, even though you’re in half your classes together. You could sense oil hitting water within seconds. This was going to be a dental appointment.
You mentioned the connection between your dad and her dad and they thought it would be nice if you knew each other. You felt your arteries harden when you said that.
She grunted, sighed and went “okay”. A movie. Friday night – You both saw My Fair Lady, so that was out. You suggested The Silencers. She suggested The Group.
Remembering your mom’s sage advice to “try and be an adult” – you opted for her choice and agreed to meet outside the theatre.
Clearly, neither of your parents had been on a date since Truman was President. You struck a compromise with a sport coat. The three-piece suit was on some other planet.
You milled around the Theatre Box Office, hoping she forgot. She was sitting at the bus stop, looking at her watch.
She looked up – saw you and rolled her eyes. Yeah, she knew you. You got the impression she felt the same way about you as you felt about her. It had “night to remember” written all over it.
Her braces were gone – they came off earlier in the week. Her face looked different. Maybe the street light had something to do with it. She didn’t reek of hairspray, she no longer had “big hair”. It was the same Cynthia – she still didn’t like you.
It didn’t make sense – so you sat down on the bus bench next to her and asked point-blank; “you think I’m disgusting, don’t you?” She nodded. Your jaw dropped. At least she was honest. “Why?” – she proceeded to read off a litany of things she didn’t like about you – all the way down to how bad your teeth were.
Aside from the teeth, she was listing off everything you couldn’t stand about her. In all fairness, you had a Dental appointment, but still. . .
You quickly arrived at the point where you couldn’t stand each other for no reason. Rumors – friends spread rumors. Friends who just like stirring up shit. Friends who make shit up.
The movie had already been running for a half-hour while you were busy uncovering your own dramas, realizing you were nothing like either of you imagined.
You were across the street from Dolores Drive-In. Because your added incentive included a wad of cash, you suggested heading over to finish the interview and eat something. Since you were no longer convinced you’d start shooting each other, she agreed and you sidled across Wilshire to grab a booth where you spent the next few hours realizing life had taken an interesting tun.
Blame the dim-flashing bulb above your head that what was going on was the start of what was going to be a serious relationship; one that stood a big chance of heading into forever-and-ever territory had it not been for your dad actually getting the raise – getting the office with a window and getting a moving-allowance to relocate to San Francisco.
Unfortunately, your dad’s boss – the guy you were setting up his daughter to drift off into happily-ever-after with, was laid off and out of work. Your dad got blamed for some political back-stabbing he knew nothing about, resulting in a fist fight at the bar after work.
The prospect of the two families getting together for holiday niceties was quashed and Cynthia’s name was banished from your home forever. From that point on the relationship of a lifetime was relegated to rumor status until you were safely out of your respective homes.
But on that Spring night in 1966 the future looked bright and you realized love could happen anywhere at any time for any reason, whether you knew it or not.
Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the radio, it occurred to you that Cynthia had a very nice voice and you could listen to it for hours. Don’t know where the fire hydrant analogy came from.
Here is around 90 minutes worth of Humble Harve from KBLA – April 4, 1965 to chew on.
