I guess I can carry a torch a hell of a lot longer than most other people would, but that's the sort of person I am. Let me explain.
When I was just turning 13, like most males, I began to notice that the opposite sex was far more interesting than I'd previously imagined. The first thing I noticed was that they had breasts. I know that sounds sort of stupid and obvious, but that's my first memory of puberty, although I had no idea what it was called at the time.
The notice I gave to females leaned just towards general observation of the gender at a distance. I was very shy and unsure of myself at the time.
It wasn't until ninth grade began that I developed my first serious crush. It was a girl I'd known since we'd begun junior high together two years before: Ellen. That's not to say I'd never noticed her, but it was usually the sort of thing where guys would be sitting together at a table in the lunchroom, a girl would walk by and someone would comment on how fine she looked. We'd talk about her attributes in some detail until the next girl walked by.
That fall we were put in the same homeroom, and when she sat down just behind me and I turned around to pass out some form or other, it just hit me right in the gut. I don't know what had happened during the summer, but she had just blossomed. There was an inner glow to her and I was smitten.
Ellen was several inches shorter than I am, maybe around 5'4". She had long, lustrous brown hair, a very pretty face and a body that I thought was just perfect. It wasn't curvy like some of the really popular girls. Maybe the best one-word description would be "pert". She was slender, not huge in the breast department, but nice, with well-shaped legs (I loved seeing her in a gym uniform!) and -- I began to realize this was the deciding facet of a woman's allure for me -- a perfect butt.
In class, she was very smart, a good student, a real firebrand on social issues (this was the late '60s) and quite funny. She expressed herself well and I found that very attractive, too.
I now spent A LOT of time thinking about me and Ellen together in the backseat of a car, on a blanket in the woods, in her bedroom (whatever that looked like), in my bedroom. I didn't have a whole lot of idea at that point what people do in those situations, but I would imagine those soft lips kissing mine and her voice whispering my name. All my old yearbooks will open automatically to the pages where Ellen's picture is.
Part way through the year, I worked up the nerve over several weeks to invite her out. I think it was a school dance. Ellen was very nice about it, but she turned me down. That remains the toughest phone call I've ever made. I was shaking the whole time, hoping beyond hope that she'd say yes, only to be dashed on the rocks of despair a moment later. For weeks after that, I avoided her, kind of difficult when you sit in front of the girl first thing in the morning and last thing in the afternoon. Outwardly, she seemed unchanged towards me, and I began to think that she didn't realize how much asking her out meant to me.
We'd been talking in homeroom quite a lot and I thought there was a bit of attraction there on her part, but I was sorely mistaken. She was interested in a guy one grade ahead of us and that was the person she showed up at the dance with. I went alone with some of the guys, leaned against the wall, and under the pretense of listening to the band play, I watched Ellen dance with Bruce. When a slow number began and he pulled her against him, I died a thousand deaths. In the weeks leading up to my devastating phone call, I had imagined myself in that position.
Bruce and Ellen became an item and frustratingly their relationship went on and on, showing no signs of letting up. I moved on, dated a few girls here and there, found no one very special and tried not think of who I REALLY wanted.
Even when Bruce went off to college, I didn't get a break. He was home about one weekend a month and I always knew when he was coming because Ellen would be increasingly bubbly all week. I loved to see her like this because her allure to me became almost overwhelming, but it was hard to take at the same time.
Later on, in our senior year, I began going steady with another girl in our class, but it was definitely a case of settling for second best. Even so, we became pretty close.
At the end of the year, as our right of passage approached, all sorts of parties were planned, and naturally everyone was interested in going to as many as possible, trying to squeeze out every last bit of togetherness before we went our separate ways, possibly forever.
The graduation formal was an annual tradition at our school -- and an attempt by our teachers and parents to keep us all out of trouble. The only way you could go to this party (held in the gym) was to be a senior or be invited by one. Naturally, I was going to take Debby.
But let me back up a bit. Two months earlier when the jobs were handed out, I wound up, through no connivance on my part, on the music committee, and it was chaired by Ellen. It was our job to audition and hire the band that would be playing and I did everything I could to drag the process out, despite the fact that I was going steady with someone else.
Being around this person who could raise my blood pressure several notches by just walking into a room was a heady experience. I got to sit next to her. I got to talk on the phone with her. I even got to drive her a few places to hear the bands we were interested in.
Those were particularly tough since Ellen was dressed either in tight-fitting jeans or shorts. I had a tough time hiding my nearly constant erections. I don't think she noticed, or if she did, she was too polite (or stunned) to say anything. I'd always carry a jacket or a clipboard or SOMETHING in front of me when we first left the car so that she wouldn't notice. One time we were driving, talking and laughing, and she actually turned to me and put her hand on my forearm to make a point. I just about came right there.
Since many of us were now eighteen and in our state you could drink at that age, a few of the more "select" parties served alcohol. Not that this stopped those who were still underage from drinking, but they were less well attended, shall we say, than many of the other end-of-high school parties. To be invited to one was something special.
The grad formal was scheduled for the day after graduation, a Friday, and it was up to Ellen and me to make sure the band was set up and ready to go at the very grown up hour of 8:00. That afternoon I picked up the phone to find an hysterical Ellen at the other end. The singer for the band we'd hired had broken his leg and they couldn't make the gig. She was beside herself, taking all the blame for the screw-up since she was the one who really wanted this band.
"Let me make a couple of phone calls," I told her calmly.
"What good will that do?" she wailed. "You're not going to find anyone now, or if you do, they're not going to be worth listening to! All the good bands will have jobs tonight."
"I have a couple of ideas."
"We are so screwed! What am I going to tell everyone?"
"Leave it to me."
What I didn't tell her was that the older brother of a friend of my older brother (follow that?) played in one of the hottest bands in the area, The Soul Men. They had been way out of our price range, so we'd never even considered them. They usually played in clubs and colleges, anyway. But I also knew that they weren't playing at the moment because they were breaking in a new bass player.
Crossing my fingers, I asked my brother for help. Within ten minutes, I had Johnny, the guitar player and leader of the band, on the line. By a further stroke of luck, they were just getting set up to rehearse. Explaining the situation, I asked if they'd be able to play for the formal.
"Just a minute," he told me and covered the phone with his hand.
I could hear muffled trumpet and the drums in the background, warming up. The noise stopped, a discussion followed, and eventually Johnny came back on the line.
"We can do it, but not for less than $1000. We usually charge $1500, by the way."
I swallowed hard. The band that had cancelled had only wanted $500. It was too late to call anyone at the school to get the okay for the larger expenditure. Then I thought of the thousand bucks I had in the bank already saved for books and things when I started college in the fall. I still had the whole summer to save up. I thought about Ellen's gratitude when I called to tell her I had the best band in the area ready to play.
