Sunday, February 19, 2012

My Funny Valentine

Who is this man sitting next to me in bed, his index finger moving at intervals over a tiny handheld LED screen, absorbed in his Apps and Tweets?

He somewhat resembles a guy I met in the snackbar at Oberlin College more than forty years ago, but his hair is thin and grey and sticking straight up more often lately, as he’s taken to rubbing his head to ease the stress of thinking hard. He consumes about 12 pills a day to control his cardiovascular disease, including Prozac so he doesn’t worry about it, and a huge nightly goblet of medicinal red wine. He loves his dog Rocky and eats the exact same breakfast every day—Cheerios with neatly cut banana slices all over the top, and a big glass of orange juice. The grandkids call him Bepa. 

It was 1966 when we met, and this guy made quite an impression on me, considering a rather strange start. Introduced by a mutual friend who slipped into the booth to say hi, he asked me out on a date—the movies, a double feature at the Apollo Theatre. The thing was, he had a date with somebody else for the second show (she was baby sitting in the early evening). Well, okay...

So I sat through Our Man in Rio with this guy, and then sat by myself through The Girl with the Golden Eyes. Interesting…I encountered the guy with his second-feature date in the lobby afterward, and he suggested the three of us go off to a party at a friend’s… I was intrigued enough to tag along, but stayed just minutes and walked myself home to my dorm. David Ford was this guy’s name, from Livingston, New Jersey. Smooth operator…

The next day the “test” continued. I was invited to the movies again, this time just myself, to see Toshiro Mifune in The Seven Samurai at Hall Auditorium, but David and his friend dared me to wear an Iron Man t-shirt they gave me. I did, with a black skirt and a single gold hoop in my left ear. Strange days…That evening, a first kiss, just one.

It was just about this time of year that we met, because I remember us one evening writing each other’s names in the snow on Tappan Square, that center of campus crisscrossed with paths under huge elm trees, before the ravages of Dutch Elm Disease. Dave…Wendy… He had big soft brown eyes and brown hair and lived in a room above his landlady’s house at the northeast edge of town by the elementary school. He was studying sociology, and cared about social justice. He loved animals. He actually listened to me when I talked.

We just kind of started talking about our future life together. We’d have a pool table, and maybe some pet monkeys. A playful, joy filled life.

 It’s nice to look back and remember. 

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