Not long after classes began in September, she entered into a relationship with with a much older man, guy by the name of Rex, about 16, who had curly hair and one of the coolest cars around. Funny, I can't remember if it was a c. '50 Ford two-door or a '50 Merc. Either way, it was lowered in back and had frenched headlights.
The blow to my self-esteem was devastating, and riding past her house on my Whizzer* brought no solace.
I yearned for a better world, a nation governed by men devoted to fairness and equality, a power structure which would have required Rex to share and share alike. Imagine, a law giving me ownership of that rod --and hence, presumptively, claim to the company of the lovely Margie -- on alternate Saturday nights.
I yearned for a better world, a nation governed by men devoted to fairness and equality, a power structure which would have required Rex to share and share alike. Imagine, a law giving me ownership of that rod --and hence, presumptively, claim to the company of the lovely Margie -- on alternate Saturday nights.
While it comes too late to spare me a life of regret, it is heartening that the egalitarian forces of President Obama are working so hard to spare other stricken lads such pain.
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3 comments:
I'm not so much on the practical value of early '50s American automobiles: They tend to run a lot better in nostalgic memories than they do in the here-and-now*, but that Whizzer would be the berries for a Broad Ripple runabout...
* (I noticed this morning that Kroger's still sells 'starter fluid' in the automotive sectionette. How quaint. I wonder where you spray it in a computer-controlled, port-fuel-injected engine, and why you would need to?)
Our rods worked pretty well, though admittedly at the expense of a lot of fussing. Unless your dad was rich you graduated from 10th grade as an expert in replacing points and condensers, adjusting carbs, setting timing, and deploying bailing wire. At 40,000 miles you started worrying about ring & valve jobs. You budgeted for crankcase oil.
At that age, in those times, however, we were about as interested in parking qualities as driveworthiness. Four on the floor was not universally admired. :)
If the inequities suffered in childhood resulting in my then and now cynicism, were exchanged for equality with the end result of wimpy-assed mush, then I'll take the inequality.
When I was that age, I didn't have a Whizzer, so you were one up on me.
And I never got the girl, either.
Now I'm depressed, Jim. (enter sad trombone)
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