I wish sometimes that my brain would show me the marvelous way it works. I often refer to it as a mental Cuisinart, which is about as close as I can come to it. I suppose a Dyson vacuum would also make a good analogy, as everything I’ve ever seen, heard, tasted or experienced gets sucked up into the brain bag, waiting for the day when there’s no choice but to empty it, which thankfully, is every day.
I say this because random things and people come to mind. A great example was last night. On the Home Shopping Network (which I don’t watch, but got stuck on momentarily), Twiggy was showing off a new line of clothes, ones that featured zippers. As we know, I have a thing for zippers, which led to a casual remark to the Janmeister about a coworker at Associated Grocers who wore jeans to work that zipped from the top of the tummy to the top of the butt. Within moments, I remembered her name, Candy Fredericks, which seemed like an appropriate name for a girl who would wear zip-all-the-way-around jeans.
The same thing happened at dinner with my mother. We were talking about androgynous names and I suddenly remembered a school mate Kevin, who I went through a horrible crush stage, to the point that we ended up kissing.
Ah, Kevin Bowe. And before you think that I once danced on both sides of the “ballroom,” that isn’t the case at all. Kevin was, and I suppose still is, a girl.
How it all came about was my love of theater. Well, of acting. No, that’s not right either. O.K., got it. I am in love with the idea of acting. Darned that “I love the idea of…” thing in my life.
At least this time it didn’t lead to Florida. It only led to the small stage in the Hazen High multi-purpose room, which was usually used for student body meetings. It’s really all Mrs. Hacker’s fault. In English she gave us an assignment, and I took the ball and ran with it.
We were to pick something that communicated something to someone. I really can’t remember what others chose, but I talked my group into doing a play. My actors were Kevin Kever, Ann Siegenthaler, Beth Michels, Kevin Bowe and I.
The play took place on a ship, and for once I didn’t write the it; we found it in a book of one act plays. If I recall, Kevin and Ann played a wealthy couple and Beth the attractive ingenue. Kevin B and I had supporting roles as shipboard staff.
The rehearsals were many, largely because we wanted to get out of class. As is the case to this day, I was having problems remembering my lines. You know me, I find it hard to stick with a script, I always want to improvise.
Well, that doesn’t work in a play where your lines serve as cues to the other actors. Everyone was missing their marks. Thankfully I wasn’t the only one with the faulty memory.
I totally understand how actors and actresses connect on the set. It’s a very intimate thing. Eventually, I started flirting with Kevin, not Kever but Bowe. I was flirting with Ann and Beth too, as I don’t like to play favorites. But Kevin B was most receptive. Everything has a time and place, and Beth and I as an item was to come later in the school year. Item may be a bit strong; make out partners would be a better description.
Eventually, Kevin and I kissed. We snuck one off stage while the others were doing their lines. She was wearing a blue, gold and green Spirit of 76 t-shirt, our class shirt. The circle was more oval than round, as Kevin B was fairly well endowed. And yes, shallow me, that was probably one of the things that attracted me to her. If I couldn’t squeeze the Charmin first hand (or both hands), then at least I could nestle into them with a full body hug and smoldering kiss.
As we worked on each other, the stage went silent. Yes, I had missed a cue, again. I gathered myself together, fluffed my hair and went out on stage. I couldn’t remember a single line, for what I think is a good reason.
I couldn’t blame Kevin B. on the dropped cues and lines. None of us were really meant to be actors. Then it hit on me. I thought, hey, we could just write our lines on cue cards. Just the tough parts, I said.
We went to work. We each used a different pen to write those sticky parts out on poster board and posted them on the walls. We must have had a lot of difficult parts because eventually the entire wall of both sides of the stage were covered from top to bottom with scenes, lines and cues.
The performance went great. I’m sure the audience noticed that a lot of our conversations were looking stage left and right and not at the audience. At the end of the show, we got a nice ovation from the rest of the class.
Afterward, Mrs. Hacker came back stage to give us some notes. There was the inevitable note about not addressing the audience. Then her eyes caught the blinding white of the wall in the wings. She burst out in laughter, knowing the reason for the odd blocking. And yes, we got an A.
Kevin B and I drifted apart shortly thereafter. While I still thought she was a very sweet girl, the thought of dating and perhaps marrying a Kevin was just too confusing to me. “Robb do you take Kevin” would have raised a lot of eyebrows back in the 1970s, especially at St. Madeleine Sophie Catholic Church. I’m pretty sure Father Jerry would have stumbled a bit at that point in the ceremony.
I could fix that. Now, where did I put my poster board and markers?
Out on the Emerald Coast, wondering what ever became of Kevin (both of them),
– Robb