I'd heard about senior senior proms and, as a big fan of the sit-com, Hot in Cleveland, I had heard about the senior senior prom...but having not attended my junior nor senior prom as a kid, I took this as an opportunity to have a "once in a lifetime" experience. And I was not disappointed.
The plan was for me to get my things together and drive to Burlington to my girlfriend, Bonnie's house. In order to talk me into going BACK to the city after having spent a week working there, Bonnie offered her place as a resting place for the night. She is a hoot and a holler and we laugh at everything one another says, or as I like to put it--we are in the Mutual Admiration Club.. The MAC.
Now, I CAN dress up and HAVE dressed up? But what does one really pack to spend an evening with 70 and 80 year olds when the "theme" has been loosely dubbed "60's and 70's? I mean, I was raised in the '70's so even I can do that math! These high end of the Baby Boomers? Were raising kids in the 70's so really...were they supposed to don clothing that they had saved from when their kids were teens?
I do vaguely recall the '70s and remember Cyndi Loper and Madonna. Lots of short socks and heels. Lots of pink and black. Leather and lace and really everything in between. Cork platform shoes. Horizontal stripes. Most of the fabrics we wore were "non-breathable" aka synthetic. We used to sweat like crazy just doing the stairs at school. And the fabrics all factory made in China, made me scratch! The 70's to me were a hot, scratchy horizontal nightmare. We teetered around in high sandals, tightly wrapped in bright colors. I recall 1976 being a Bicentennial year and one where I found THE ONLY cotton shift in town. It was red, white and blue, had seems up the front and fit me perfectly.But that dress wouldn't do for the prom, even back then when "peasant dresses" were worn by brides and bridesmaids--we dressed as if we were all yearing for the by-gone days of slavery and mint julips... saying things like, "Daddy's horse had a bad fall," and "Oh, this humidity is makin' me so uncomfortable!" whilst fanning our pretty little noses with one gloved hand and holding a parasol with the other. We wore "body suits"--really they were short or long sleeved acrylic get ups that gymnasts wore to swing around on parallel bars and do flips on mats. But we all had them--mostly scooped necks and tight tight tight. Some snapped at the crotch, others did not, so urinating was always a tossup as to whether we would just pull it aside or disrobe completely...it usually came down to how much TIME we had to pee.
So, getting back to the prom. We arrived all dolled up in a rain storm that frizzed our hair and tried to ruin our makeup. We persevered. And we had a "couples" pic taken. To be fair, most of the "couples" were both women, not because VT is the gayest state around, but because most seniors above a certain age are widowed women. We danced all night to "Rock Lobster" and "Love Shack" (or is that the same song?) and we laughed and ate from styrofoam plates and drank punch from plastic cups. The food was catered and very fancy for a spread set up at a senior center. There were crab rolls and stuffed mushrooms that were rather delicious. Fresh fruit salad. Chocolate dipped fresh strawberries, the works.
We had so much fun dancing in lines following Donna Zeo, the dance instructor that at one point (sober as a judge) I said, "I just do not want this night to end." (Ok shouted it) and the folks there were very happy that we were all there, we multi-aged whipper snappers. The volunteers had genuine smiles. The lighting was dimmed. Festive atmosphere. So much fun.
Bonnie and her husband, David, and I left after the lights came up, the tables were nude and the garbage was hauled to the outside bin. We were raring to go, so Bonnie and I sat up most of the night mutually admiring one another's life stories, struggles and triumphs. It was a wonderful senior, senior prom, one the likes of which this AARP member? will probably never see again.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Tricky Man Friends
So, I've had my share of male friends, most of whom, over the years, have been married. What I mean is, most MEN over a certain age are married. So, it stands to reason that most of my male friends are, indeed, married.
It's tricky being friends with married men, even if they are married to other married men.
Their spouses always and forever, at some point, saunter up to us, give me the "hairy eyeball" and TOUCH the man with whom I am speaking, sometimes on the arm and other times on the chest. This is to signal "cut that out" and the man usually frowns, stops talking entirely and wanders off.
It's a real nuisance to me and I am both publicly annoyed by and amused by this typical, predictable behavior a lot. I can talk to a woman for hours, even if she has a girlfriend or female spouse. It's rare that women get jealous of me when I've got their "woman's " attention. But wives of men or husbands of men are relentless.
Why I even bother is a real question, but I continue to put up with them because really? In all honesty? In my life, there are very few men I can even tolerate. So when I find a good one, I do want to have some sort of relationship with him, even if it involves a constant a tug-of-war with his "beloved."
We are mammals and I really believe we are rarely monogamous, although everyone insists that we are and can't understand how anyone can "stray." I mean, wedding vows are often said by (let's face it) hung-over, desperate people with such cold feet they can rarely even get the words out without screwing them totally up. Watch a wedding video sometime. NOBODY gets them completely right, even when the pastor/priest/clergy is FEEDING THEM THE WORDS almost one-by-one!
I don't mean to say that folks should up and fool around with any old person. I don't condone that or encourage it. But people should UNDERSTAND how it could happen and be willing to overlook or at least try to get to the bottom of the "why," I think. Boredom is real in relationships. Contempt is dangerous. There are just so many times you can hear someone say the same thing, tell the same story with the same inflections before you at least shout inside your head, "THAT? is it!"
Other people do look good to us. I, personally, can't pay strict attention to anyone unless I am either doing something rote or concentrating on their very words. So, looking over a man's shoulder to look at another man? Doesn't happen. When I am with someone I am with them. Him. Not crazily, step in front of a bus, with him, but with him. And my mind doesn't wander. My heart doesn't yearn for another person. I have that much respect for a relationship. But when I'm done? I'm done. When he's done, I'm not always done. Therein? Lies the problem.
There was a really funny Seinfeld episode where Elaine broke up with a boyfriend and he? Wasn't done. So the boyfriend said, "No. We actually are not breaking up." Elaine said they were. He said they weren't and so on. The next shot was of them in bed. It took her all episode to ditch the guy because he wasn't ready to end it. And even then I don't think she followed through with it because it was "exhausting" being with him and even worse not being with him.
So suffice it to say that I? Am not done with this current man in my life. He's not circling the drain. He's not turning his back entirely. OR? He could be doing the "Break Up Solution Number One" thing (there is a handbook) called "let her down easily" (code for she could be a crazy, conniving, retaliatory b--tch!) but I don't think so. I have stopped trying to read between the lines. I have read the cards--we're in this for the long haul....and at my age, frankly, that isn't long. And if he is done with me? He needs to more than saunter off brows creased, following the sound of someone else's voice. He needs to "man up" and say so and sit there and suffer the consequences...whatever they may be.
It's tricky having men friends. It's trickier having the one man I do have in my life. Everything is temporary, I remind myself. Everything ends. But my love for this one particular fool? Is still running those rapids, still crashing into the rocks, still finding deep pools to cool off in on those hot summer days. This isn't new love. This is ancient. I wrote on the walls with charcoal with this guy. I tended the fire. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just not.
It's tricky being friends with married men, even if they are married to other married men.
Their spouses always and forever, at some point, saunter up to us, give me the "hairy eyeball" and TOUCH the man with whom I am speaking, sometimes on the arm and other times on the chest. This is to signal "cut that out" and the man usually frowns, stops talking entirely and wanders off.
It's a real nuisance to me and I am both publicly annoyed by and amused by this typical, predictable behavior a lot. I can talk to a woman for hours, even if she has a girlfriend or female spouse. It's rare that women get jealous of me when I've got their "woman's " attention. But wives of men or husbands of men are relentless.
Why I even bother is a real question, but I continue to put up with them because really? In all honesty? In my life, there are very few men I can even tolerate. So when I find a good one, I do want to have some sort of relationship with him, even if it involves a constant a tug-of-war with his "beloved."
We are mammals and I really believe we are rarely monogamous, although everyone insists that we are and can't understand how anyone can "stray." I mean, wedding vows are often said by (let's face it) hung-over, desperate people with such cold feet they can rarely even get the words out without screwing them totally up. Watch a wedding video sometime. NOBODY gets them completely right, even when the pastor/priest/clergy is FEEDING THEM THE WORDS almost one-by-one!
I don't mean to say that folks should up and fool around with any old person. I don't condone that or encourage it. But people should UNDERSTAND how it could happen and be willing to overlook or at least try to get to the bottom of the "why," I think. Boredom is real in relationships. Contempt is dangerous. There are just so many times you can hear someone say the same thing, tell the same story with the same inflections before you at least shout inside your head, "THAT? is it!"
Other people do look good to us. I, personally, can't pay strict attention to anyone unless I am either doing something rote or concentrating on their very words. So, looking over a man's shoulder to look at another man? Doesn't happen. When I am with someone I am with them. Him. Not crazily, step in front of a bus, with him, but with him. And my mind doesn't wander. My heart doesn't yearn for another person. I have that much respect for a relationship. But when I'm done? I'm done. When he's done, I'm not always done. Therein? Lies the problem.
There was a really funny Seinfeld episode where Elaine broke up with a boyfriend and he? Wasn't done. So the boyfriend said, "No. We actually are not breaking up." Elaine said they were. He said they weren't and so on. The next shot was of them in bed. It took her all episode to ditch the guy because he wasn't ready to end it. And even then I don't think she followed through with it because it was "exhausting" being with him and even worse not being with him.
So suffice it to say that I? Am not done with this current man in my life. He's not circling the drain. He's not turning his back entirely. OR? He could be doing the "Break Up Solution Number One" thing (there is a handbook) called "let her down easily" (code for she could be a crazy, conniving, retaliatory b--tch!) but I don't think so. I have stopped trying to read between the lines. I have read the cards--we're in this for the long haul....and at my age, frankly, that isn't long. And if he is done with me? He needs to more than saunter off brows creased, following the sound of someone else's voice. He needs to "man up" and say so and sit there and suffer the consequences...whatever they may be.
It's tricky having men friends. It's trickier having the one man I do have in my life. Everything is temporary, I remind myself. Everything ends. But my love for this one particular fool? Is still running those rapids, still crashing into the rocks, still finding deep pools to cool off in on those hot summer days. This isn't new love. This is ancient. I wrote on the walls with charcoal with this guy. I tended the fire. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just not.
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