My Real Memoir
By age 16 my infatuation with girls had gone malarial; no net could contain me. I flirted shamelessly with anyone and everyone I found attractive. I never mentioned other girls to my pen pal Judy, for example. Why? Because she was cute and I wanted to keep that option open—even though she lived 1,000 miles away! (See birthday poem above.)
I did have a girlfriend. Sort of. But Kelle and I would savor one another only to run off and sample the other flavors in the candy store.
On a chilly night at Huntington Beach (our wheels were petpetually turned toward the ocean), I took a romantic walk with an “older woman,” a pretty Latina named Valerie. We kissed. Again and again. I knew that, at 18, she was “experienced,” so my hands began to wander. But Valerie said, “No, don’t spoil it. You’re my knight in shining armor.” (See yearbook quote above.) Years later, due to my youthful passion for dating girls of every ethnicity, my adult daughter accused me of “virtue signaling.” But honestly, it was more like “variety signaling.” I simply wanted to try all the candy in the candy store. Not very PC, I know. Add it to my well-stuffed “Mitch’s Mea Culpas” folder.
When adorable pink-cheeked Helen asked me to the Valentine’s Day Dance, I showed up with a huge sunflower I’d found in a field. I started to pin it on her, saying, “Let’s be different!” But then, in response to her look of unbridled terror, I brought out an actual corsage. Once we figured each other out, we got on famously. A remarkably talented singer/actress, Helen would eventually be the leading lady in a whole array of stage musicals. She would also, later that year, become the leading lady in my buddy Marc’s life!
Kelle and I started dating again after she and I were cast as a down-and-out married couple in a heavy drama Waiting for Lefty, our school’s official entry at SoCal high school play festivals. Our ongoing attraction soon intermingled with conspiratorial pride as our play scooped up prize after prize.
And then she was cast as Louise, the lead dance role in our school’s production of Carousel. Entranced, I watched from the wings as she leaped and spun, and thought, Why am I dating anyone else?
So naturally, I asked her to the Prom. And it was truly magical. The sweetly stunning Kelle and I danced and laughed until they closed the doors to the ballroom. And then we extended our night by exploring L.A.’s Little Tokyo until it too closed down. When a droopy-eyed shopkeeper asked if we’d just gotten married, we laughed. But I remember looking at her and thinking, In a different version of our lives, maybe. It was the most perfect date we ever had.
And also our last.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Don’t leave us hanging Mitchie….
Why was it your last date with Kelle?
Well, no one died or got hurt, Jeanne, at least not physically. I’ll get to the next part in an upcoming Memoir post, I promise.
Mitchie
I didn’t go by “Mitchie,” Joy. Ever! But for some reason, both Valerie and Helen addressed me as that in their yearbook inscriptions.
A couple of us noticed!
Magical memory dates are things to be savoured forever. Even if one happened to be the last. I’m glad no one died. I’ll wait for the next post to learn about the non-physical hurt. You certainly survived whatever it was. ❤
I/we did. Thanks, Gail.
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Ah the olden, golden days. Father Knows Best. The blush of youth. No burdens, no pressures, no mortgage. Did it really happen or aren’t we remembering it well?
A blend of both, I suspect, Bob.
That is what being young is about…it’s much better to sample at 16-18 than 40.
True that, Max.
You had good tastes Mitch!
Good story, but come on, man, you must finish it. I know there is more.
Oh, alright: I died the next day. But I got better. (See reply to Jeanne above ;>)
It sounds like things didn’t work out in the long run, but you have fond memories.
I do indeed, Vera. And Kelle and I have remained lifelong friends.
The memories, the love, the sheer joy of life, at that age, …’twas a lovely share, and I’ve read the comments and answers, so I needn’t ask what happened, …😇
Awww 🙂 You kept the pictures and letters for a very long time. It is so beautiful!
Thank you, Martina!
You were quite artistic back in the day, and your juvenile romances are hilarious. You sweet talked extraordinarily well with poetry.
;>) Thanks, Nancy. I did love to doodle, and clearly had a good time spoofing Elizabethan poetry with my less-than-perfect phrasing.
I hope you explained to your daughter that there was no such thing as virtue signaling back then.
Oh, there was virtue signaling all right — it just wasn’t called “virtue signaling.” 🙂
What I was really thinking was there weren’t many people dating other races for the purpose of appearing virtuous because that was not seen as a virtue .
Yes, you’re right about that. My point was that although society’s notions of what constitutes virtue have certainly changed, moral preening has been around forever. I grew up surrounded by it, and I’m ashamed to admit that I indulged in it myself more than once. 😵💫
Hey Mitch–have you written a blog about how you met your wife? If so could you share the link ? I would love to read that story. 🙂
Hey Katie. I’ve written about it more than once. Here are a couple that come to mind: https://mitchteemley.com/2017/01/13/mixed-blessings-2/
and https://mitchteemley.com/2022/01/20/something-wonderfully-wrong-3/
Thank you so much!! 🙂
Reblogged this on The Writing Journey and commented:
A great tale/biography and I can see why you became such a good writer, Mitch
Your story reminded me of when I was at high school. I used to write love letters for my close friends to their girl friends.,,and charge them!? A young budding entrepreneur (big word, eh)!
“Life is what happens in between making other plans”
http://www.thedriverthenurseandthewriter.wordpress.com
Hi Mitch
Thanks for another follow
IF you want to go on a journey (destination unknown), you can follow me. Thanks and enjoy the trip.
happy travelling
“the world’s fourth worst writer” (here in “Sleepy Hollow”…where I’m safest just writing and sharing)
http://www.craigsblogs.wordpress.com
http://www.craigsbooks.wordpress.com
Best wishes from the First City to see the light
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1MmIKtVy0PQ-LaAwGIEeKvIObgCXIC7G0/view?usp=sharing
PPS
Don’t worry about the world ending today…
it’s already tomorrow in scenic and tranquil ‘little’ New Zealand
‘The Art of Memoir’
A great tale/biography and I can see why you became such a good writer, Mitch
Your story reminded me of when I was at high school. I used to write love letters for my close friends to their girl friends.,,and charge them!? A young budding entrepreneur (big word, eh)!
“Life is what happens in between making other plans”
http://www.thedriverthenurseandthewriter
PPS
Thanks for another follow and happy writing + creating, Mitch
IF you want to go on a journey (destination unknown), you can follow me. Thanks and enjoy the trip.
happy travelling
“the world’s fourth worst writer” (here in “Sleepy Hollow”…where I’m safest just writing and sharing)
http://www.craigsblogs.wordpress.com
http://www.craigsbooks.wordpress.com
Best wishes from the First City to see the light
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1MmIKtVy0PQ-LaAwGIEeKvIObgCXIC7G0/view?usp=sharing
PPS
Don’t worry about the world ending today…
it’s already tomorrow in scenic and tranquil ‘little’ New Zealand
Another great memory, Mitch! I have such fun reading your posts.
So glad, Kellye.
That last sentence makes me wonder!
I confess, I like cliffhangers, Ann.
My prom story is sad. My boyfriend was in college and you had to get permission from the principal to bring non high school students. And of course it was denied. BUT. He was a musician/ guitar player and he and his friend were hired to play intermission at MY prom that I didn’t get to go to. I’m still bitter lol
:>( Glad to see you added a LOL, Susie.
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