Déjà vu – First Car – First Kiss

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Today’s Blog Post

Déjà vu – First Car – First Kiss

I am stumbling to find the words that will make sense this morning. How can I describe the scenes in my mind that have been bubbling there for a few days now? They are popping up in rapid sequence – oh boy.

It is all because of my grandson Clifford that this is happening I am sure. Most of this stuff was hidden and I think almost forgotten. But now with his coming of age this past weekend with his 15th Birthday, and me moving past the age with my 66th – here it is again… bubbling up! Hokey Mokey!

Flash Back
It is April 1960 and I have just turned 16 years old. This was to be the magic year – all guys knew that. It was the year to achieve my driver’s license. I was going to be allowed the privilege to drive the family car sometimes. That was the most I could hope for I was sure.

Up to that point I had been doing kid stuff… and playing kid’s games in the community. But everyone knew when you hit the 16th marker you would put away the kid stuff and become like the rest of the older teens that were all driving and hanging out with their friends at the drive-inn restaurants. These older guys all had hotrod cars of some sort or other. If they didn’t have their own they had their dad’s car which was not too cool but they got to the A&W anyway.

Along with the cars came another kind of awkward to think about item… at 15 at least… and that was the girls that hung around these guys with cars. Their shiny hotrods were like chick magnets that brought in some very different girls from the Grade 7,8 and 9 girls that I had known up to that time. This new bunch that hung around the Hotrod Crowd were better smelling and wore make up. They just looked better some how.

But at 15 and then moving into the magic 16th Birthday – the girls didn’t seem near as important as the idea of actually driving and having that magic, powerful piece of paper that said I was a MAN… my driver’s license.

It wasn’t many days after the 16th Birthday that I wrote/drove my driver’s license and passed.

Two major things were about to happen that would change my life forever… these are part of my bubbling scenes in my mind today… oh boy… the “Manhood Passage”!

First…
I had an extremely FAT AUNT. She was also short… and being almost as wide as she was tall – she looked FAT. Her name was Wilma. I am breaking out in a cold sweat just typing this… sheesh!

Wilma and my uncle Ralph had a daughter by the name of Kathy. Kathy was older than me and was something like the girls that were with the guys with Hotrod Cars. She was different from my younger sisters and her sister. Just different for some reason…. Couldn’t figure out why… just… different.

I had just turned 16 and these relatives had shown up from BC for some reason. Some one mentioned that I had just had my 16th Birthday.

Wilma was loud. And Wilma gave a whoop and looked at me… asking loudly… “So have you ever been kissed?” I was 16 but still very shy and bashful to say the least. Kissing was not something that I EVER HAD CONSIDERED AS PART OF MY LIFE! YUCK! HOW STUPID CAN THIS LOUD WOMAN BE?!?!?

My blushing and head down stance called for another whoop from loud, Fat Wilma. Her daughter Kathy beamed from ear to ear as she joined her mother in a feigned taunt… “Sweet sixteen and never been kissed… Sweet sixteen and never been kissed… Sweet sixteen and never been kissed…!”

By this time I was blushing big time and my sister had joined the taunt.

The strong arms of my little Fat Aunt grabbed me and she tried to kiss me.

Good God in Heaven… what… is this woman nuts…? where is my mother and father? I fought for all I was worth and now everyone was laughing! This was to be a death throw… a final moment on my being on earth… but there was NO DARN WAY THAT THIS FAT AUNT WAS GOING TO KISS ME!

I fought hard… and warded this Fat Demon off. But being a “Woman Wrestler” that I was sure she was… she did her next big move… she reached down and slipped her powerful Fat Arm between my legs and scooped me up like I was a piece of drift wood… I crouched slightly to protect my private parts and then her other arm slipped easily between my neck and shoulder… swish I was air born and laying across her shoulders of the Fat Demon… and SHE WHOOPED spinning me in circles like a trophy all the time chanting “Sweet sixteen and never been kissed…”

If you haven’t figured it out by now – as I was held tightly across Fat Wilma’s shoulders and being spun in circles there was nothing I could do. I was defeated. And I guess I must have stopped fighting…

That was the moment that Fat Wilma realized that I was broken like a calf being branded… and she whopped again… “Okay Kathy KISS HIM!” and everyone in the room whooped for her to do it!

Kathy moved into my face quickly and puckered up her soft lips… I was bugged eyed. Smack! She got me…on the cheek and Then Smack again on the mouth!!!!

Wilma lowered me to the floor and let me go. Kathy grinned… and I blushed. Defeated! I was not sure what had happened to me. I tasted Kathy’s lip stuff on my lips and felt her lips still hot on my cheek.

It was a very confusing moment… I wanted FAT Wilma to do it again… and Kathy to kiss me again.

I am blushing now… sheesh… that is one powerful 50 year old, bubbling scene in my head.

Second…
It was sometime after Fat Wilma and Kathy did there thing… that my Dad asked me to come with him for a drive. He explained that now that I was 16 years old he thought that I should get a car. I couldn’t believe my ears. I was about to get a CAR!

Dad had already been looking for something that might be good to drive.

At that stage our family car was a 1951 Pontiac that I had taken my driver’s license test in. It was pretty fancy and I doubted that Dad could get one this new. It was now 1960.

He talked to me on the way from the city to southern Saskatchewan and the farming area that my mom came from. Dad said that he had been thinking that it might be fun for me to get an older car to fix up. He had told me stories about his first car that was a Ford… a “Model T” that he had virtually built himself. It was not likely possible to get one that I could build like his… but we would see. He knew a farmer that had an older car that we could look at and maybe we could get it.

We pulled into Ed James’ farm yard and the dog was barking.

Ed met us. Dad had talked with him in the weeks before. He knew we had come to look at the old car.

We rounded the barn and there it was… a completely rusted, no roof as it was rotted out, and up on bocks with no wheels, 1925 Model T Ford. The floor was filled with bird manure.

Dad looked it over and talked to Ed. It was all there. It had run well until about 1950 when Ed had put it on blocks and left it to die a quiet prairie death.

Dad looked at me and asked, “Well, would you like to buy it?” I shook my head quickly in the affirmative.

Dad said, “Go ahead and make your own deal.” nodding towards Ed.

I stumbled a little and asked Ed how much he wanted.

Ed said in the slow farmer way, “Well I don’t want to charge you too much… how does $10 sound?”

I beamed and replied, “YES!” The deal was done.

The tires were in the tool shed hanging up. They needed air. We filled them up. Bolted them in place and with a tow rope pulled it out of the spot beside the barn.

I was sitting on the old pail steering it back to Regina as my dad towed me and my new car with his 1951 Pontiac. No boy was more happy that I was… sorry… No MAN was happier than I was at that moment. Dust flew, chicken and bird manure flew out the open top and the old car flapped and rocked and rolled down the highway one more time. I think the car had a smile on its face. REALLY! I sure did!

Talk about FLASH BACKS.

Last week my grandson Clifford not only had his birthday but he also received a call from his other grandfather. His grandfather’s mother had passed away. This grandfather’s name is Doug.

Doug asked Clifford if he wanted to buy a car. Clifford asked how much. Doug replied, “One dollar…” And Clifford bought his first car when he was fifteen.

And yes… it is a FORD too… a Tempo which is in relative terms about as old as my old 1925 Model T. BUT He got his for a dollar.

Now the question is… when will he get his first KISS? This tall handsome, athletic grandson of mine just thinks all girls are kind of stupid… at least that is what I think he wants me to think…

Clifford doesn’t have a FAT Aunt Wilma… and I doubt very much anyone will be able to pick him up on their shoulders… as to a cousin Kathy.. Clifford is the oldest and the others are little girls… like his sister….

Hmmm???

~ Murray Lincoln ~
http://www.murraylincoln.com/