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Good Memories



I had a full day yesterday and was hit by memories of

my summers growing up in a small town in upstate NY.

By the time I was 11 I was left to my own devices. My Mom

and older sisters were gone all day. The girls I hung with

had stay at home Moms. So my house was hang out central. The

house had a huge front porch. We would sit there, play

games, eat and watch the traffic. Our house sat on the main

street. We would go to TT's neighborhood store. Get penny

candy, frozen cups of kool aid, 5 cents a cup. Sometimes

we'd go to some else's house to eat. They knew my Mom

worked so they loved to feed me.
------------------------------------------------------------

We turned into teenagers. We were bold and carefree.

We hitched hiked to the lake. Hung out, talked and got

sunburned. Discovered boys.Discovered ourselves. Summer time

was for sleeping late, relaxing, laughing. Putting all

the troubles behind us on shelf till later. Our guy friends

built cars and were wild. Sun tanned and young. We never

stayed still, energy in abundance. We would meet in a field

overgrown with trees and weeds, it was called "Grease Hill".

It sat behind the factories, secluded, our spot. The field

was mostly flat except for a hill smack in the middle. We

would play football guys vs girls. Each on either side of

the hill. Meeting for combat on the top. Smoked "Old Gold"

cigarettes,drank and talked. We were a motley crew. Ragtag

and young. Eventually at least one or more of the guys

would get pinched for something minor.No big ballers in this

bunch. The police were men that knew our parents and had

watched us grow up.The guys would be a guest on the county

for a couple of weeks to a month. The jail was downtown and

we would stand outside and yell at the cell

windows. They'd sit in that cell window and we'd all talk

till the sheriff's came out. Then we'd run like hell.

Laughing like idiots.


************************************************************
It was the 70's and times were easy. The summer time meant

summer camp for the kids on the other end of town. Our

parents didn't have the money and thought it wasn't

necessary. I loved their response to summer camp, go pitch

a tent in the backyard. So were would. I still can't believe

this, but we were able to obtain bottles of Boone's Farm

Strawberry Hill wine and drink till we were stupid. Sneak

out to hang with the guys. Wake up hung over. Then do it

all over again. I loved "camp".
------------------------------------------------------------

One summer during our teens we discovered what our parents

called "wacky tobacky". I remember the arid smell,the

blue curls of smoke ascending upward and disappearing. Then

cotton mouth, hunger like you can't imagine and laughing

till we cried. Popcorn and chocolate and drinking soda for

the dryness in our mouths. Then we got semi busted by my

mom. Crap...

"Have you been drinking"? "Nope"."Let me smell your breath.

With narrow eyes she sniffed all of us. We were snuffling

back laughs and shaking with the suppression of giggles.

"I know you all have been doing something, and

I pity you if I found out what". okey dokey.

So my Mom was on guard to catch us.

She never did. Believe me she tried.

Pat downs like Attica prison.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

In our little burg mother's would spank you, even if you

weren't theirs. Then make a beeline to call said child's Mom

to enlighten them of the infraction. Oh yeah baby, your

Mom would be standing outside waiting for you. Foot tapping,

hands on hip. waiting. It would seem like the longest walk

of your life. It was bad enough you acted out, but at a

neighbors house !!! What were you thinking ? Not much.

############################################################

There is a prison in my hometown. Not on the outskirts

mind you. It is smack dab in the middle of town. The burg

built up around it. You had to pass it often. Whether on

foot or by car. Some cells overlooked the street beyond the

main gate. There was a man who was always in the same

window when I passed. Through the bars and grating he would

wave,I'd wave back. He had black hair and he was young.

He was always there. Always.

Weirdly enough I didn't get that he was living in that

cell. I was free. That wave connected him to the outside.

Through the years whenever I passed and if he was there at

the cell window ,we did the wave. Somehow he always was.

Time passed. I am so unaware sometimes,

I lifted my hand to wave, it's then that I noticed the

change, his hair was WHITE. I was living my daily life,

freely. I had become a young woman. It was a habit that

without notice or acknowledgement had covered over 20 yrs..

When I moved away, I was passing the prison for the last

time. I looked up at the window, upper left, second window

in, it was ...empty.

Was he gone. Had he been released ? Or was he released into

the prison cemetery. His time finally ending. I'll never

know.
************************************************************
Those summers are in the past now, memories of young

girls, sun tanned and wild. Carefree and not afraid. Ghosts

of who we were, before husbands and our own children.

Memories of a summers when we had life by the balls.

Most of those people made it to adulthood intact. Some

didn't. Prison for a few. Suicide for 3, life was too much

for them to bear.

My oldest childhood friend has been in my life since

kindergarten. I was 5, she was 6. She's blonde with green

eyes. Me dark brown hair and brown eyes. She tall, me short.

We had our first children 7 months apart. Me first, a girl.

Her next, a boy. Mine dark haired, dark eyes. Her son blue

eyed and blonde. Their first names are the female & the

male pronunciation of the same Italian name. Their middle

names both begin with M. We've had each others backs for 45

years. Me 3 kids, her 5. We both have been married twice.

Once as teenagers,once as adults. Other men raised our first

children. Their fathers just didn't have time. Our 2nd

husbands are men of good quality. We are both Grandmas who

listen to 70's music. We really get where our kids are

coming from.

2 Peas in a Pod
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I want to close with one more memory. I haven't thought

about it in a long time. It still makes me smile. A nice

place to stop and visit down memory lane.

Growing up in the burg you dated neighborhood boys. Then

one summer I met a guy who was a most excellent person.

Physically he was a wonderful. Tall, lean, hard bodied like

teenage boys are. He had a butt you could bounce a quarter

off of. A few freckles tossed across his cheeks. A 100 watt

smile. He wore my favorite uniform of Levi's & white T.

His arm muscles were cut and defined. Lord,Lord !!

You could see his wash board abs behind his T shirt.

I remember when we met.We were out with hanging with mutual

friends. He was shy and unaware of himself.

I had just broken off a thing with a guy who liked himself

too much. I wasn't looking for a boyfriend of the dating

kind. Just a friend. This guy was introduced to me.

DAMN !!!

He spoke so nicely. I swear my mouth went dry. As usual my

friends decided to hang at the park. We walked, talked and

laughed. He hadn't had a girlfriend in a while. Was new

to the neighborhood and had been introduced to my friends.

We became friends. We hung out. Kind of inseparable.

It was the typically evening, hang out, say the goodbyes

and drift towards home. We walked home in silence. It was

weird. I didn't want a boyfriend, he didn't want a

girlfriend. We were emotionally dysfunctional. Same kind

of home life, no real affection from our parents. Needy for

some validation. Needy for physical attention.We get to the

spot where we parted ways. Well out of no where a kiss of

massive proportions. We looked at each other and broke out

laughing. We shared that kiss, a seal on our friendship.

Friends with kissing bennies. We NEVER, NEVER went further.

No need. It was that way through our early 20's

Life took us in different directions. It never changed our

friendship. We'd run into each other. Always checked in

on each other.

I was moving away, I said my good-byes. I saved him for

last. I hadn't seen him in months and he hadn't a clue I

was leaving. Good friendships pick up where you leave them.

I found him and told him my plans. He asked why. I told him.

He understood. One of those times in life when the right

thing is the hardest decision to make. We had been an

emotional anchor for each other. We knew even when time

passed without contact, that we were still in the same town.

Now that space would be wider.I left. He didn't have phone.

We'd send messages via mutual friends.

Then we lost contact all together. Life's journey.

I never saw him again.

But, yesterday I thought of him, my friend,

who now would be middle aged like me.

Yet......he'll be forever young in my mind. Locked away

like a precious keepsake. Something good from my past.

Not tainted, not sullied, pristine, frozen in time.





















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