37 to 50

13 is a weird age. Or at least, it was weird for me. After several trips to Florida to house-hunt (spring break, a few days tacked on to a long weekend, etc.), my folks closed on our house in December of '73. Their plans allowed me to finish 8th grade so I could graduate from St. Jerk's with the kids I'd been with since kindergarten.

There was no real sense of the clock ticking down; we'd been in the same place my whole life, we'd visited Florida, but I had no frame of reference for relocating.

I did the stuff I'd always done. Hung with Doris on weekends (mostly), although I had a few slumber parties with my BF from school, Lorie. She was the only girl in her house (2 brothers and her dad, her mom had died several years earlier), nowhere near as spoiled as I was, and she loved my mom's cooking. She was also the source of my first porn book, a sleazy little volume called "Hot Slot"---I think she acquired it from one of her brothers---which was eye-opening in every sense of the word.

Also that December, about a week and a half before Christmas, I decided that our Christmas tree *really* needed to go up---so I went down to the garage and dragged it up the driveway, the front stairs, through the vestibule, up a full flight to our apartment, and set the darned thing up. Afterward, I went into the bathroom for the usual reason, and discovered blood.

Now, Mom had been saying for a while that she would have supplies ready for me when the time came. Well, guess what---she didn't. I suppose it would have been too much to expect---this was, after all, the woman who told me time and again, "No matter how old you are, you'll always be my little girl"---of course she wasn't going to believe that day would come if she could stick her head in the sand and avoid it! And since she'd hit menopause not long after I was born, according to her, she didn't miss them.

I can understand, with her background, why she'd want me to feel secure and protected and loved---although my experience was somewhat different, as you can tell by now---but she really was the product of a different age. Between being older whan I came along---40-something mothers of grade-schoolers were NOT the norm in those days---and having been raised by her maiden aunts, she had a rather prim outlook on sexuality.

Aftr reading "Hot Slot", I asked her what an orgasm was, and OMG, that was awkward---for her. To this day, I wonder if her reaction was because she didn't know or just didn't know how to deal with an enlightened and precocious 13-year old.

I remember that spring as a welter of hormones and insomnia. "Hot Slot" disappeared from beneath my mattress, which Mother staunchly denied, but its work was already done. I also became enamored with the Steve McQueen movie "Papillion". Doris and I formed a clubhouse in an old barn a few blocks away and I was finally allowed to do things like take buses to the new Staten Island Mall. Not much compared to how Peter had gone gallivanting all over New York for as long as I could remember, but it was the most freedom I'd ever had.

A few days after my 8th grade graduation, we left Staten Island, and spent three days migrating to Florida: me, my parents and Lady in a 1968 Plymouth Fury II.

I thought of it as an adventure---it was Florida, a tropical paradise where they launched rocket ships!---but I had no idea how different it was from everything I knew.

* * * * *

Next: Florida, high school, and fandom....


.

37 to 50

13 is a weird age. Or at least, it was weird for me. After several trips to Florida to house-hunt (spring break, a few days tacked on to a long weekend, etc.), my folks closed on our house in December of '73. Their plans allowed me to finish 8th grade so I could graduate from St. Jerk's with the kids I'd been with since kindergarten.

There was no real sense of the clock ticking down; we'd been in the same place my whole life, we'd visited Florida, but I had no frame of reference for relocating.

I did the stuff I'd always done. Hung with Doris on weekends (mostly), although I had a few slumber parties with my BF from school, Lorie. She was the only girl in her house (2 brothers and her dad, her mom had died several years earlier), nowhere near as spoiled as I was, and she loved my mom's cooking. She was also the source of my first porn book, a sleazy little volume called "Hot Slot"---I think she acquired it from one of her brothers---which was eye-opening in every sense of the word.

Also that December, about a week and a half before Christmas, I decided that our Christmas tree *really* needed to go up---so I went down to the garage and dragged it up the driveway, the front stairs, through the vestibule, up a full flight to our apartment, and set the darned thing up. Afterward, I went into the bathroom for the usual reason, and discovered blood.

Now, Mom had been saying for a while that she would have supplies ready for me when the time came. Well, guess what---she didn't. I suppose it would have been too much to expect---this was, after all, the woman who told me time and again, "No matter how old you are, you'll always be my little girl"---of course she wasn't going to believe that day would come if she could stick her head in the sand and avoid it! And since she'd hit menopause not long after I was born, according to her, she didn't miss them.

I can understand, with her background, why she'd want me to feel secure and protected and loved---although my experience was somewhat different, as you can tell by now---but she really was the product of a different age. Between being older whan I came along---40-something mothers of grade-schoolers were NOT the norm in those days---and having been raised by her maiden aunts, she had a rather prim outlook on sexuality.

Aftr reading "Hot Slot", I asked her what an orgasm was, and OMG, that was awkward---for her. To this day, I wonder if her reaction was because she didn't know or just didn't know how to deal with an enlightened and precocious 13-year old.

I remember that spring as a welter of hormones and insomnia. "Hot Slot" disappeared from beneath my mattress, which Mother staunchly denied, but its work was already done. I also became enamored with the Steve McQueen movie "Papillion". Doris and I formed a clubhouse in an old barn a few blocks away and I was finally allowed to do things like take buses to the new Staten Island Mall. Not much compared to how Peter had gone gallivanting all over New York for as long as I could remember, but it was the most freedom I'd ever had.

A few days after my 8th grade graduation, we left Staten Island, and spent three days migrating to Florida: me, my parents and Lady in a 1968 Plymouth Fury II.

I thought of it as an adventure---it was Florida, a tropical paradise where they launched rocket ships!---but I had no idea how different it was from everything I knew.

* * * * *

Next: Florida, high school, and fandom....


.

Just as a heads-up

I'm on my Melbourne stay-cation with Mb and her SO. I've brought my 'puter*, so I ought to be able to update as usual, barring unforeseen circumstances.

The A/C is actually cold enough that I've had to put on a jacket, and I foresee the need for sleeping under a blanket (not sheet, blanket). It's divine!

Spent the day running around...SO's dad is in hospital, where they visited him (Hence the house-sitting, it needs housekeeping on the scale Mb excels at). I don't know him personally, have had enough medical scenarios in the last year that I had ZERO desire to go in, so I sat in the car in the parking lot. I was in the shade, and because I'm acclimated to no A/C, I didn't even break a sweat.

After the driest July on record, it poured Sunday afternoon, which may have given us ever-so-slightly less brutal temps. Also, I had the foresight to bring a fresh spiral pad with me---on sale for some absurdly low price at WalMart in time for back-to-school. I spent a half-hour or so---didn't check my pocket-watch---focused on pursuing an idea across the pages. (foreverhermit, I think you'll like it.)

Mb and I cruised Salvation Army and Goodwill, which is how I happened to have a jacket with me in August. No major purchases; we came back to base camp and rounded up SO to go for dinner---the Chinese buffet, of course.

We got back and I went and took a nap, as I'd gotten slightly less than four hours sleep the night before---which is why I'm the only one up at this hour, though not for very much longer.

================================

* Huzzah to the portability of laptops, and a rousing THANK YOU, SBJB!

.

Just as a heads-up

I'm on my Melbourne stay-cation with Mb and her SO. I've brought my 'puter*, so I ought to be able to update as usual, barring unforeseen circumstances.

The A/C is actually cold enough that I've had to put on a jacket, and I foresee the need for sleeping under a blanket (not sheet, blanket). It's divine!

Spent the day running around...SO's dad is in hospital, where they visited him (Hence the house-sitting, it needs housekeeping on the scale Mb excels at). I don't know him personally, have had enough medical scenarios in the last year that I had ZERO desire to go in, so I sat in the car in the parking lot. I was in the shade, and because I'm acclimated to no A/C, I didn't even break a sweat.

After the driest July on record, it poured Sunday afternoon, which may have given us ever-so-slightly less brutal temps. Also, I had the foresight to bring a fresh spiral pad with me---on sale for some absurdly low price at WalMart in time for back-to-school. I spent a half-hour or so---didn't check my pocket-watch---focused on pursuing an idea across the pages. (foreverhermit, I think you'll like it.)

Mb and I cruised Salvation Army and Goodwill, which is how I happened to have a jacket with me in August. No major purchases; we came back to base camp and rounded up SO to go for dinner---the Chinese buffet, of course.

We got back and I went and took a nap, as I'd gotten slightly less than four hours sleep the night before---which is why I'm the only one up at this hour, though not for very much longer.

================================

* Huzzah to the portability of laptops, and a rousing THANK YOU, SBJB!

.