Loves

  I have alluded to this topic in other stories, but I thought it would be good to bring this subject to a close.  Despite being branded as gay by some people, because I have never married, I have to say that I have been in love at least four times in my life with girls.  One didn't know, because I was too shy to tell her.  One did know, but it ended badly.  One probably knew, when I said goodbye.  And, one sort of knew, because I was persistent.  I have had a couple of girls who loved me.  One I am friends with.  The other committed suicide.  I thought it was my fault for many years, but I had to just let that go.  At any rate, I am still single.

 The first was a girl I met at church.  She really seemed interested in me as a friend.  I had never had someone of the opposite sex care about me as a person.  I fell madly in love with her.  I was in high school.  She was incredibly smart in school and very creative.  I couldn't eat.  I had butterflies in my stomach.  She gave me my first kiss.  I just was too shy to tell her, even though there were people who knew my secret.  Maybe she knew too, but she was seeing another guy.  For about two years, I couldn't think about anyone but her.  When I went to college, I started keeping a diary.  I would end each entry with my declaration of love for her.  Years later, I began to be her muse.  She was doing plays, and I would promote her work.  She was in a bad car wreck that broke several bones.  I couldn't bring myself to see her, as she was pretty messed up.  My father would visit her, as he was in the clergy.  When I went off to seminary in Texas, she was going to graduate school in Florida.  I got the bright idea one Saturday to drive there.  It was only 12 hours there.  I got as far as Shreveport and decided it was a dumb idea.  After I got back from Texas, she had moved back home.  We went out once and later on a mission trip together.  A few years after that, she got married to a nice guy.  They are still together and living in another state.  We are still close friends.

 One thing I have found out about myself is that I am attracted to girls who are smart, classy, and have style.  So, when I met a girl like that at Anderson College, another love blossomed.  It was my sophomore year.  She was a local girl who was involved in Drama like me.  We did everything together.  One Sunday, I was home and called her.  Her mother picked up the phone and told me that she was out with friends.  That was unlike her to be out on a Sunday night. I found out later that she had met a guy who she liked.  At that point, I was in a three-way relationship.  I liked her.  She liked me and the other guy.  When she and I went to Europe as part of a college History trip, we spent just about every waking moment together.  I was extremely jealous of any guy who came in contact with.  On the train from Lucerne to Paris, she had her head in my lap.  She looked up at me and mouthed the words "I Love You".  I mouthed those words back at her, and she smiled.  I was prepared to pop the question to her in Paris, but the time wasn't right.  When we got to Barcelona, she wanted to call the other guy to tell him when to pick her up from the airport and to break it off with him.  I don't know what he said to her on the phone, but when we were in the plane heading back home, she told me that she had decided to marry him.  It was the longest eight hours of my life.  I went to PC, and she went to another school.  Every day, I would send her a letter.  They started coming back return to sender.  For a couple of years, it was pretty ugly.  She got married, but I wasn't invited to the wedding.  She told a friend that she was afraid that I would have objected in the ceremony, and I would have.  Years later, we began corresponding once again.  We are friends again.  I am glad for that.

 I have already written about my third love.  That was Kare in Fort Worth.  She kept me sane during a really crazy period in my life.  Search for Kare in my blog.

 The fourth love was a girl I worked with at Belk.  She was incredibly funny and extremely creative.  She was a writer.  She sort of looked like Steffi Graf for all you tennis fans. She loved horses, and she taught me a lot about those graceful creatures.   She ended up marrying a doctor, and she became a librarian.

 I have had feelings for other girls over the years, but these four were the ones I was serious about.  People keep telling me that I should always have hope of finding someone.  Never say never, I guess.  

Dates

  I have a confession.  I haven't dated girls all that much.  Whether it is because I have been very shy, or because I hate rejection, but I just haven't.  In fact, the first official date I ever had was as a senior in high school.  I asked a girl if she would like to go to Hardee's with me, and she said yes.  It was a spur of the moment thing.  I did hang out with girls during my high school years, but mostly at church and mostly in a group.  There was one girl who I was pretty close to, and we would have long talks as we walked at night, but it wasn't really romantic.  

 When I got to college, the number one thing on my mind was passing my classes and then having fun.  Once again, I hung out with girls but didn't really date.  Group dates were the thing.  Get drunk.  Get high.  Have fun.  That was kind of our mantra at PC.  Theatre people were a little different than the other students.  There were a lot of parties.  One, in particular, where I pinched a girl's butt with ice tongs at a fraternity party.  She couldn't sit down for several days.

 When I moved to Texas, the girls I dated were from work.  Kare, Charlotte and Alex were the main ones.  We had a good time.  Unfortunately, the seminary thought I was anti-social, because I didn't date any girls on campus.  They just didn't interest me.  Besides, my dates liked to drink.  Seminary girls were not as free.

 After moving back to South Carolina, I did go out some with girls from work or church.  There was a rumor going around Belk that I had dated almost every girl who worked there.  If that was true, I would be dead now.  My heart couldn't have taken it.  I did have a few girls I went out with.  Maybe 5 or 6.  One girl in particular I wanted to date.  I mustered up the courage to ask her out.  She said no.  That was the inspiration for the song "She Said No" that was recorded by The Cobbwebs.  The companion song called "She Said Yes" was a fantasy song about what would have happened if she had said yes, and I wasn't prepared for that.  But, she said no in real life.

 There was one girl I dated, when I worked at Rich's.  I took her to my high school reunion.  We went out to eat several times, but she would embarrass me by sending food back for not tasting right.  She did it to try and get free food.  I found out that she lied to me about many things in her life, so I had to break it off.  I can't stand lying in a relationship.  

 So, casual dating isn't really something I do.  Unless, you would call going to lunch with a work friend "a date".  You probably wouldn't.  

Posture

  I seem to have always had rounded shoulders.  I'm not sure why, but I can't remember a time, when I didn't.  When I got into elementary school, my posture seemed more pronounced.  I couldn't sit up straight in school.  I was always slouching in a chair.  I thought it was because my head weighed more than my body.  After all, I was pretty skinny, and I was pretty smart.  My teacher thought it was something else, and she told my parents that I needed to be seen by a doctor.

 I really didn't want to go to a doctor about this, but my parents were worried.  They did a battery of tests and x-rays.  They found I had scoliosis.  I saw the x-ray and the curving of my spine.  I had no symptoms, but it came as a shock to my parents.  The doctor suggested that I wear a back brace to see if my spine would straighten up.  My parents bought a back brace from a mail-order company.  It was made of stretchable material and was kind of like wearing a backpack.  Before going to school, I would put it on under my clothes.  I couldn't move around much, but it did force me to sit up straight in a chair.  I know that some kids wondered why I had changed my posture, but I never told them I was wearing a back brace.  I didn't want to be teased.

 It got to the point, where I didn't want to wear the back brace anymore.  It was just too confining.  I had difficulty breathing, especially at recess.  My parents insisted that I wear it, so I would put it on in the morning; take it off at school; and put it back on going home.  I know that it didn't do much good that way, and my parents didn't see any improvement, so they told me I didn't have to wear it anymore.  Success.

 As time went on, I continued to slouch and be hunched over, but I just learned to live with it.  When I got to college, I found that it was an advantage to hunch over.  I would be walking to the mall at Anderson, and some nice lady would stop and ask if I needed a ride.  Of course, I did.  It worked especially well, when it was cold.  Yes, I manipulated people back then.  When SC had a governor who bent over, I would be mistaken for him.  We kind of looked alike.  I got a free cheeseburger at Wendy's because of that.  

 As far as I know, my spine is still curved a little.  I have done exercises in the past that have helped me get straighter.  But, I will probably always slouch.  It feels good.  And, I actually think I look cooler than those old sticks in the mud who have to sit up straight all the time.  I have learned one lesson, though.  If someone offers you a ride, you had better know who they are.  Times have changed.  A word to the wise.

Diversity

  From an early age, I was taught to treat everyone equally.  The concept of "diversity" didn't enter into the picture for me.  Why were people diverse?  Aren't we all just one people?  I learned the hard way.  

 First, it was after Dr. King died.  I was riding my bike near Five Points and was attacked by some black kids.  They threw rocks at me.  I asked why they were doing that, and they said I had killed Dr. King.  I told them I hadn't been anywhere near Memphis, but they said white people killed Dr. King.  They were judging me, because I was different than them.

 Next, it was in my Senior year of high school.  There was some construction going on at Flora.  A black worker was digging a trench, and the dirt caved in on top of him.  His fellow workers tried to get him out, but they couldn't.  He died.  A rumor started going through the school that a white worker had purposely buried his co-worker and killed him.  Of course, this was untrue.  But, it was enough to start off having some black kids fight some white kids.  We didn't have many black kids at Flora at that time.  Busing had just started in Columbia.  The fights got out of control, and the police had to be called in to quell what became as a riot.  There was some broken windows and damaged property.  Some of us tried to bring the temperature down some.  I really think some of the rioters were doing it to get out of going to class, but it just got worse.  Finally, the administration stepped in and cancelled classes for a week.  We went through a series of seminars on race relations and respect for one's school.  It was called "Give A Damn".  We learned a lot about others, and what they dealt with at home and in school.  After the week of training, things kind of calmed down.  The coroner said that the worker had died from the loose ground caving in all top of him.  His supervisor was cited for not realizing that the soil was loose and could be dangerous.  The damage was repaired.  

 Fast forward to my time at Rich's Department Store.  There was an issue brought up about some people being marginalized or discriminated against company wide.  Our store was not as bad as some others, but Rich's felt that we needed to go through diversity training.  I have to say that most of us did the training to be able to get off of the floor for an hour.  

 As I have stated before, I am not a racist.  I have known many people who are, and they make me sick.  Most of them were taught that from their parents or grandparents.  Some just never knew the difference.  I have seen Klan rallies.  I have seen burning crosses.  I have seen people with different skin colors be pushed around.  I have seen people with different economic backgrounds be ridiculed verbally or physically.  I have seen people with different sexual orientations be laughed at.  I have been accused of being a racist by people who don't know me.  The bottom line is this:  we can all be proud of our heritage.  Mine happens to be German, English and French.  We can all be proud of how far we have come from our ancestors and their sacrifices.  We are a diverse culture.  We should embrace that.  On the other hand, we should always work to be one people with a common goal, and that is to love one another.  Or at the very least, accept one another for who each person is.  Life would be so much simpler.

Phone

  As I have said before, I have been known to do phone pranks.  There is something about not being seen that appeals to me.  And, the one you call can't reach through the phone and hit you.  That is a plus.

 At Anderson College, each suite in our dorm had a phone in the hallway.  If you wanted to use it to call out of the school, you had to go through the switchboard and get an outside line.  Any long-distance call had to be collect, because the school wasn't going to pay for it.  Our parents got a lot of collect calls.  Then one Sunday night, things changed.

 One of my suitemates picked up the phone, but the school's switchboard didn't answer.  He dialed a number, and it went through without help.  Then, another one of my suitemates did the same thing.  He could call his parents without it being collect.  We had a phone that could bypass the switchboard.  And as it turned out, our phone was the only one that could do it.  We went around our dorm and told other students.  We had a free phone.  The line formed down our hallway.  

 After the novelty wore off, we started to make prank calls by ordering pizzas to non-existing addresses.  We spent almost the entire night on the phone.  The next day, we found it didn't work anymore.  The school found out and repaired our phone line.  No more free calls.  The nice thing was they didn't make us pay for the calls, since they couldn't be sure who was calling whom.  Good thing.  We might still be paying that bill 50 years later.

Stitches

  When I was a kid, I had a large mole on my upper thigh.  The thing was about the size of a dime, and it had a bump on top of it.  It wasn't really sore to the touch, but it was somewhat worrisome to my parents.  At first, they thought it was a birthmark, but the thing grew a little over time.  They decided that I needed to have surgery to have it removed.  It could be cancerous.  The surgery was pretty painful, but the tests showed it was benign.  I got stitches and was told to be careful.

 Of course, the word "careful" is not in a kid's vocabulary, especially in the summertime.  You hear it all the time from your parents.  But, a kid wants to have fun.  Whether one is careful or not.  

 The stitches hurt when I walked.  The sharp edge of one end would stab me in my thigh.  Thankfully, they told me that they wouldn't be in me for very long.  Maybe a couple of weeks.  I could deal with that.  Some friends asked if I wanted to go to the roller-skating rink, which was about a mile from my house.  I asked my mother, and she said I could go, but I would have to be careful.  I could watch others skate, but I couldn't skate myself.  After all, she wanted me to be careful.

 When we got to the rink, I sat down to watch the others skate.  My friends didn't know about my recent operation.  They saw me just watching them and asked me to come out on the floor and skate with them.  I had skated before.  I had a problem in stopping.  I knew that you were supposed to point your toe toward the floor to let that rubber thing slow you down, but that was just hard for me.  Thanks to peer pressure, I started skating slowly.  I was being careful.  I felt the stitches rubbing against my thigh, so I decided to quit.  Trying to stop, I saw a metal pole near the side of the rink and tried to grab hold of it.  The pole hit my stitches, and they broke.

 I started feeling blood on my leg.  I knew I was in trouble.  I left and got back home.  My mother saw the blood on my pants and then saw my underwear soaked in blood.  She gave me a chewing out about not being careful, and then my parents took me to the hospital to get stitched up again.  Another two weeks with stitches.  I didn't go anywhere until the stitches came out.  I have a small scar from that surgery, which my parents hoped would remind me of being careful.  It never did,

 

Concerts

  I love going to concerts.  Listening to live music is something I like to do.  And, I need to confess something:  when I go to a show, I will sing to the music and sometimes even dance.  It isn't really dancing.  It is more like moving to the beat.  I would never win an award for dancing.

 I have been to all kinds of concerts.  Rock, Country, Blues, Classical, Pop, Comedy, Soul, Religious, and combinations thereof.  Among the artists I have seen (sometimes more than once) are:  Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr and His All-Starr Band, Elton John, Chicago, Bob Dylan, George Carlin, BB King, Ray Charles, Micky Dolenz, Richie Havens, The Who, Goose Creek Symphony, The James Gang, Willie Nelson, Delbert McClinton, Climax, Atlanta Rhythm Section, Johnny Cash, The Carter Family, Andrae Crouch, Mountain, Canned Heat, Judie Tzuke, Billy Grammer, Gary Lewis, The George Shearing Quintet, John D. Loudermilk, Lester Flatt, James Gregory, Peter Frampton, James Taylor, Mac Frampton Triumvirate, Mac Wiseman, The Ramsey Lewis Trio, Steel Pulse, The Shirelles, The Four Tops, The Temptations, Tom T. Hall, Jerry Clower, Wet Willie, Three Dog Night, George Jones, Dr. John, Roger McGuinn, The Carpenters, Barry McGuire, Gene Cotton, Crosby Stills and Nash, Tiffany, Minnie Pearl, Boz Scaggs, Earl Klugh, John Mayall, Steve Martin and Martin Short, Sam Bush, Aretha Franklin, Sid Caesar & Imogene Coca, Maurice Evans & Helen Hayes, Buddy Guy, Koko Taylor, George Clinton & Parliament Funkadelic, The Rolling Stones, Billy Preston, Johnny Winter, Silers Bald, Styx, The Fabulous Thunderbirds, Lee Greenwood, Little River Band, Living Colour, Ricky Skaggs, Jerry Seinfeld, Irma Thomas, The Preservation Hall Jazz Band, The Five Blind Boys, Sheila E., Morris Day and the Time, Bonnie Raitt, Kiss, David Lee Roth, and more.  In fact, the first concert I sort of went to was Ike & Tina Turner.  I parked outside of the Coliseum in Columbia and listened to their show from a block away.  It was that loud.

 There are a few regrets.  I wish I had seen The Beatles in concert.  Although, the crowd would have been so loud that one couldn't have heard the music.  I also wish I had seen the solo concerts by George Harrison and John Lennon.  That would have been cool.  The loudest show was The Who.  The music was loud, but so was the guy next to me screaming in my ear.  I could feel my brain move around in my skull, and I got ill.  I had to leave during the encore and throw up.  After that, I would sometimes bring ear plugs.  Most of the shows that I go to now, one doesn't need ear plugs.  The music is for old people.  

 And, what was the best concert I have ever witnessed?  A hard question to answer.  It would be a toss up between Elton John 1973 at the University of Georgia; Bob Dylan 1997 in Columbia SC; Paul McCartney 1993 in Atlanta GA; and everybody else.  Except one.  Judie Tzuke was booed off of the stage, because we wanted to see Elton John.  I felt sorry for her, but she just wasn't very good.