Memories often coalesce around a particular subject. Putting together the proper chronology of events decades after they occurred proves difficult with only a few signposts, such as historical events or personal milestones. Winding through the many layers of gray matter the cerebral retrieval system gravitates toward a unifying theme. In the case of Samuel Morse Junior High, as I am sure it is for most stories involving adolescent males, the subject is girls. Amazingly, a few years earlier these same creatures were irritating imbeciles covered with cooties. Through some twist of fate nature riddled boys bodies with hormones which when we saw even the least attractive girl put us in a state we usually found embarrassing and which today we ironically go searching for a blue pill to achieve. Linda was the first person I knew that used the now fairly common phrase, “my mother’s boyfriend.” While still at Grantosa Drive she started to wear makeup and had a boyfriend in junior high. His last name was Zinudes, which made us laugh since it sounded like she was saying, “the nudist.” At Samuel Morse she wore deep red lipstick and a white mohair sweater. We were in Mr. Sawyer’s English class when we both bent down to pick up something off the floor. She was a row over and a few seats ahead of me. For some reason she was turned in my direction and the first thing that caught my attention as I looked up were her breasts. My only experience with naked female flesh prior to that time had been in the pages of poorly hidden magazines. Here I was staring at a junior version of the reason people paid good money to be served beer by a person with pointed ears and a cottontail. When she looked up into my eyes I knew I had to get myself back up into my seat and start writing before Mr. Sawyer figured out what was happening. Even though I can’t clearly picture them together I am fairly certain Linda and Shotsie were friends. Unlike Linda, Shotsie, whose given name escapes me, was a successful student. Like Linda, though, she knew how to capture a young boy’s imagination. Other than the mohair sweater, there were three fashions that plagued junior high boys at that time: the mini-skirt, fishnet stockings, and my personal favorite, the empire waist. No one wore an empire waist better than Shotsie. Usually, she and I did not hang out together. We probably didn’t have too many mutual friends. However, I remember a few times being in a small group out on the playground after lunch. Unlike Grantosa with its organized noon hour activities, lunch hour at Morse was just a time to hang around and talk. Most of the time it was just discussing some new song or television program, or who was going steady or breaking up with whom. But, Shotsie liked to talk about her physical interests such as lips, tongues, ear lobes, necks, and fingers. It was thrilling to hear her talk. It was also scary when she started to ask questions. Again, I’m not certain, but I think I probably made up stuff since I had no experience. For that matter, I’m not certain she had any experience either, but I’m certainly glad she was willing to talk. It let me know it was not just boys who were interested in this new game mother nature had presented to us, but girls were curious, too. Comments welcome.
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