I probably do not remember much about my junior prom because it was not one of my greatest moments.
I have always loved being with “the guys” and doing what guys do, talking trash, drinking beer, camping or hiking, fishing, shooting, driving down new country roads, or just sitting around sucking on a cigar (well, it was cigarettes in those days) and enjoying the peace and quiet of the moment. So, I suppose this made me a bit independent with the ladies. I mean, women were just a lower priority in those days.
It was nothing for me to take a girl home in the middle of a date and then go either look up my male friends or continue the “double date” as a fun loving chauffer! I think I have already mentioned this, but once when a girl complained about me tapping the gas peddle around and around the Beacon, pretending my dad’s ’64 Pontiac had a racing cam, I took her home and drove Barry and his date around the rest of the evening! Sad, I know, but very indicative of the way I thought about life. If someone does not enjoy you the way you are, the hell with them or her. There are plenty of fish in the sea, I would think, and not worry about it in the least.
So it was on Junior Prom night in l963. Charlotte was a lovely little blond girl with a nice smile and pretty legs, best I remember. I can remember where she lived with her big brothers and how I worried about dragging something off the undercarriage going up her rocky drive way.
What I do not remember is what she did to piss me off!
Some time during the prom evening I simply left the prom without her! It must have been serious enough in my mind at least, but looking back it was a shameful event for which I never apologized.
I left with two other guys who were also fed up their dates. The decision was we could be having so much more fun driving the back roads to Wartburg and Oakdale with a six-pack of beer. So off we went, satisfied that we did not need a girl to make us happy.
All the girls at school thought we were awful pigs, but the guys, even though they would not say it in earshot of a girl, thought we were cool! It was all forgotten in a couple of weeks and we all started dating again – after all, most of the under classmen had not heard of our deed!
Senior year prom was an after thought for me. I knew the prom was coming, but really did not want to be bothered with fancy clothes, flowers, and the formality of such an event. However, once I learned that all my friends had dates, I decided I had better get one.
Now, I am not saying that Becky was all that was left, because she was not. Let us just say that Becky had not been asked before I came along. She was a very attractive brunette, with pointy glasses, a huge smile full of teeth, and a nice tall curvy body for a sophomore. I had noticed her before this and had considered asking her out, but never seemed to get around to it. So, I asked her to be my Senior Prom date, and she giggled her acceptance.
I remember mom insisted I bring her by the house before we went to the prom for pictures, which in those days was an old Brownie Hawkeye loaded with black and white Kodak film. As you can see, the photo is not the best in the world, but it serves to document that the event did occur.
I can remember arriving at the Cumberland Middle School gym, where the prom was scheduled. I remember a friend, Arty, was the organist in the evening’s band, all bands had organs in those days, and they were playing “The House of the Rising Sun!”
After this, my memory fades to black. I am left with only the memory of the night and that I did not leave her stranded. I remember taking her home and giving her one short kiss, which was enough to discover she had halitosis! It was our first and last date.
I have always loved being with “the guys” and doing what guys do, talking trash, drinking beer, camping or hiking, fishing, shooting, driving down new country roads, or just sitting around sucking on a cigar (well, it was cigarettes in those days) and enjoying the peace and quiet of the moment. So, I suppose this made me a bit independent with the ladies. I mean, women were just a lower priority in those days.
It was nothing for me to take a girl home in the middle of a date and then go either look up my male friends or continue the “double date” as a fun loving chauffer! I think I have already mentioned this, but once when a girl complained about me tapping the gas peddle around and around the Beacon, pretending my dad’s ’64 Pontiac had a racing cam, I took her home and drove Barry and his date around the rest of the evening! Sad, I know, but very indicative of the way I thought about life. If someone does not enjoy you the way you are, the hell with them or her. There are plenty of fish in the sea, I would think, and not worry about it in the least.
So it was on Junior Prom night in l963. Charlotte was a lovely little blond girl with a nice smile and pretty legs, best I remember. I can remember where she lived with her big brothers and how I worried about dragging something off the undercarriage going up her rocky drive way.
What I do not remember is what she did to piss me off!
Some time during the prom evening I simply left the prom without her! It must have been serious enough in my mind at least, but looking back it was a shameful event for which I never apologized.
I left with two other guys who were also fed up their dates. The decision was we could be having so much more fun driving the back roads to Wartburg and Oakdale with a six-pack of beer. So off we went, satisfied that we did not need a girl to make us happy.
All the girls at school thought we were awful pigs, but the guys, even though they would not say it in earshot of a girl, thought we were cool! It was all forgotten in a couple of weeks and we all started dating again – after all, most of the under classmen had not heard of our deed!
Senior year prom was an after thought for me. I knew the prom was coming, but really did not want to be bothered with fancy clothes, flowers, and the formality of such an event. However, once I learned that all my friends had dates, I decided I had better get one.
Now, I am not saying that Becky was all that was left, because she was not. Let us just say that Becky had not been asked before I came along. She was a very attractive brunette, with pointy glasses, a huge smile full of teeth, and a nice tall curvy body for a sophomore. I had noticed her before this and had considered asking her out, but never seemed to get around to it. So, I asked her to be my Senior Prom date, and she giggled her acceptance.
I remember mom insisted I bring her by the house before we went to the prom for pictures, which in those days was an old Brownie Hawkeye loaded with black and white Kodak film. As you can see, the photo is not the best in the world, but it serves to document that the event did occur.
I can remember arriving at the Cumberland Middle School gym, where the prom was scheduled. I remember a friend, Arty, was the organist in the evening’s band, all bands had organs in those days, and they were playing “The House of the Rising Sun!”
After this, my memory fades to black. I am left with only the memory of the night and that I did not leave her stranded. I remember taking her home and giving her one short kiss, which was enough to discover she had halitosis! It was our first and last date.
