Second Saturday

As I drove back from the grocery store with my old fashioned carton of oatmeal (you cook it on the stove), sack of navel oranges and loaf of 100% whole wheat bread, in my eco-friendly reusable bag, this song came on the radio and I smiled.

A million Saturdays ago, there is no way I'd be coming home from the grocery at 8 pm, because I'd be too busy getting ready to go out dancing and parytin' at 10pm. I would usually be meeting my beloved, Comic Book there (I've written about him before). One time we got into some hell-ish fight over probably I wouldn't eat the cow tongue he fixed or I just couldn't accept he really 'wasn't cheating' one me because THAT meant nothing, or the fact he was so jealous of my KC chum. OK, Comic Book and KC Chum hated each other..alot..and that will be another post...maybe, anyway-Comic Book and I weren't speaking.

Back to the song, the first bars blast from the speakers. Comic Book had been on the other side of the bar. He bounced over to me, took my hand and said, "I forgive you" and pulled me to the dance floor. All was love and kisses until about Monday, I'm sure.

Anyway, tonight as I drove home, I bopped my head to the beat of the music. Still a good song after all these years. I looked at my eco-friendly bag filled with stuff I never would've touched those million Saturdays ago. And I smiled.

These second Saturdays aren't bad at all.

December 4, 1977 was Sunday

And I was into my first 24 hours of living in Kansas City.

Well, actually I was just right across the river in Kansas, in Shawnee--I think it was. I'd moved there there on Dec. 3, which was also friend's birthday. I hated leaving my hometown because we wouldn't have a chance to party with her. She was 19 after all. However, the friend over at my dad's house to see me off tho.

Back to Kansas City. I was to start a new job on on Monday, at a global motel reservation call center. For all of $450 a MONTH. Big money I thought. For the time being I was going to stay in a motel which was kinda walking distance, yet not quite really, from my new job. I wound up taking a cab which got me to work a hour late a few of those first days. I'm surprised I didn't get fired.

Looking back, maybe I should have. I mean, I moved from small town Iowa to Kansas City. A city with more than three stop lighs, withOUT a car. Plus, I really didn't have a place to stay--except this motel. I knew no one. I knew not where to go. The company that hired me said there could be folks to help me know the city and places to live. I learned later my step-mother had family in KC, yet no offer to stay with them materialized.

What I remember was not meeting any of my interviewers until I showed up on the first day. Really. Everything was conducted on the phone with a 200 mile distance between us. I guess things could be done like that in the 70's. Also the company was talking about GOING computerized. All our reservation taking, which included Australia, was separated by the color of paper we wrote on and a big board in front of us with "X" by locations sold out. WOW. Sounds so antique now, huh?

I ordered pizza for supper on this Dec 4 night--delivered--.

I had no kitchen area to cook in. I can't remember what exactly I did for food. I couldn't drive anywhere. I was in a major city without major transportation. I don't know why I didn't have some kind of jalopy to get me 'round. I would ask my dad why--and never got a straight answer from Big Daddy Don. Wonder if it was a way for me to stay dependent? Or he was just too broke enough to get me one?

Oh well. I quit the job in June 1978 and headed back to hometown Iowa. Six months to experience smokin' weed the first time, the virtues of vodka mixed with just about anything, first entry into a gay bar, lied about a family emergency so I could take off time to fly to Utah to witness Donny and Marie tape their original TV variety show (Priorities. We watched from the studio's green room and both D & M later came in), had sex for the second time ever (and not that sure I was doing it right) and I still no car as I shut out the lights on Kansas City and left.

And on this Dec 4 night in 2010, I smile. What a kid I was. And I'd do it all again.

Only maybe I'd make sure I have sex for the third time ever....... :)

Finally Friday

Oh wow.

I could go on and on and on..

Texas Rangers down 2 games to zip in the World Series...

Dallas Cowboys have 1 win and gazillion losses and without Romo...

My impatience shows with dreams I have...

When do they come true? I have my Joy.

Rejoice.

Yet

Got invited to a classmate's house for Thanksgiving--nice.

Heck, I met Rick Springfield-

Because of Facebook, a woman who was once one my pen pals in junior high found me...

Stamps then were either a nickel or six cents. We later met in the same Kansas City workplace, surprised we'd found each other then...

Another chum says to come out out NYC so to do coffee-

All in all it's good.

Finally Friday.

Nothing more need be said!

Somewhere Down The Road

Me and Barry Manilow. Yep. Still carrying on a thing with his older stuff and poofy hair. Barry doesn't know it tho. Just having a time remembering how much Barry's music stayed with me.

Especially the people I associate with the music. Honestly, I rarely listen to lyrics. Friends have called me me on the carpet because I don't. I lack heart I've been told. Naw. I'm the most hopeless romantic sap you'll ever know. I'd give you a card just because it's Tuesday.

I digress.

A song has just gotta hit me just right to get all into it. And yes, Barry Manilow is one of those singers with words got to me. Just like this song "Somewhere Down The Road." And back in the day, whenever this song came on contacts floated out of my eyes because the river of tears. Yes, they did. A lot.

This song was during my second stint in Kansas City. Attended a travel school which flew away with my money. That's whole another post. Anyway, I'd make almost weekly jaunts back to Des Moines, about 200 miles away. Not so much to see the family, even tho I got descent meals, but to see chums.

This was mid 80's, and well....I had places to go, people to see--one in particular. I liked him. He liked me. In fact we're friendly to this day. Chums on Facebook even. Never joined at the hip, yet joined in occasional lip locks. This was the 80's. Even now, I just smiled about him.

The first line of this song just sums it all up: We had the right love and the wrong time.

So sweet and nice while it lasted.

Barry Manilow--what kind of pie do you like? I owe YOU!

Labor Day Done

I like Barry Manilow. There I said it. On this Labor Day 2010 I admit it. Barry's coming to Dallas. I'm not sure of the date, because I'm afraid of how much the tickets are. I saw Barry in concert once--maybe twice. Back in the 80's. Ya know, forever ago.

And now, well-I like Barry's music--especially his older stuff. Even more precise, this song posted here: "All the Time."

Man, oh man, I sat in my first, ever apartment in Kansas City. $180 bucks a month, furnished, one room and slept on the pull out bed from my green vinyl sofa. Should I tell you I moved into the place with NO toilet paper? I just remembered.

And for some reason, I didn't have my 9 inch color TV. I didn't bring that to KC until later--yet I had my stereo. Ahh, yes the stereo. My music kept going and that included Barry's lp. This One's For You which had "All the Time" on it. I cried so many tears for the man I cared about at the time-I was so young then and so homesick and so made so many mistakes on the FIRST BIG MOVE away from home.

After all these years, I listen to this song and get weepy--and it's not because of Barry's glasses in this clip. Nope, for the song's lyrics. I get it. Barry.

To think I had it....

All the time.

Too High

Got home tonight and my grass seems to be a bit too high. It was just mowed last week, yet I think my Lawn Guy and Crew need to visit on Saturday. I tell myself I oughta invest in a lawn mower--so just to mow when I feel fit. Hmm. Guess I ain't felt that fit enough since I ain't bought one. Yea, good grammar I know, I digress...and it could be fear of somehow chopping my hand off while I mow might be part of it too...

Thought of my KC Chum today and I didn't even hear our anthem Sister Sledge "We Are Family" when I did. Nope. Thought of when I zipped to and thru Kansas City, on my trek to Iowa a week or so ago. How it woulda been nice to stop and do lunch or coffee. The next time I journey North, I just may have to make sure I stop. OK-I just smiled, because I recall us sippin some Saki and playing our version of trivia, while another friend tired of us. Or the time we got lost and found the not so safe part of Omaha and released balloons or the time....yea, time for a visit.

Think I need to go out to my backyard, check on the grass there and to make sure my peach tree hasn't fried in the heat. Then I'll take a gander upward to the clouds...
...and be assured dreams are never too high.

Tis Friday Eve!

As I pulled into my driveway tonight-a bit tired and sweat drenched from my bike & treadmill jaunt at the rec center, the radio began to play a song. Not really one of my all time favorites, yet brings up a memory from a time far, far away--basically, the '80's, in yester-century.

Ya know, big hair--on men and women, with alot of mousse and gel. In my case, I still held remnants of my jheri curl--just in different styles. I digress. Anyway, by 1986, I'd moved back to Iowa from my second (and so far, last) habitation in Kansas City. Yet, I still kept in touch with my KC Chum who had introduced me to crepes, Bloody Marys on a Sunday before lunch, and the Village People.

This particular time in 1986, my KC Chum, drove to visit me in Iowa. If I remember right, his car was about the size of the Love Boat. I was amazed it the 'ship' made the 250 miles, without a life raft nor Captain Stuebing! I digress again.

The whole point is: that weekend a wonderful time was had my all! Partied like it was 1999, and it was just 1986. And this song was one we danced to. When the DJ began to spin it at the bar, I recall my KC Chum jumped and announced must dance. And we did.

So every time I hear this song, even 23 years later, I smile. Forget about the senior rec center I belong to and put the trash by the curb and that bedtime is usually 10:30pm.

I smile about a time when 10:30pm was about the time I went out and STILL went to the work the next day. :) Let's cue up alittle Peter Gabriel on this Friday Eve--he's gonna tell us about some "Sledgehammer!"

December 12 Was A Monday in 1977

As my diary reminded. I wrote how I waited for the weekend---imagine that! However, life was a tad bit different. Just a tad-then. I'd moved to Kansas City, my first move away from home, a couple weeks before. It was to head to my first major, real time job, at Travelodge Reservations Center. They hired me on the phone, site unseen. It was the 70's.

This job was WAY before computers. We did everything with different colors of papers. OK--I'm not gonna bore with you that. Wait--the salary, I think, was less than $500 a month...big time.

What I will tell you, I moved to a KC, after I attended a travel school in Coral Gables, Florida. While in Florida, I busted my step-mother's platform shoes, while I got my groove thing on the dance floor--however, that's another entry. I moved to KC with out a car--why, I'm not sure. Kansas City was a bit bigger than my Iowa hometown and even, Des Moines. For the first week or so, I lived in a motel room, not far from work. A taxi cab, that I became on a first name basis with, took me everyday. Even the motel folks were nice, they said I could stay as long as I wanted. Looking back, I should have done just that. However, at the instance of my step-mother, I needed to find a place to live. So, on a Friday night, after work, I moved into my first ever apartment, site unseen and a few miles from my job.

The apartment was a one room, furnished, all expense paid, pull out the mattress from the green vinyl couch, with a gorgeous shag carpet of black, brown, and white. Yippee. Oh, and after the taxi cab dropped me off--remember, I had no car--I moved in without even toilet paper. I remember I went to my up stair's neighbor and humbly asked for a roll. She was a single mom, with the daughter who played "Easy" by the Commodores, so loud, I heard it through the floor. A co-worker was to come and take me to the store--and didn't. I had no phone. Can't remember what I ate that first night. I remember being panicked as I looked at my tub and realized I had not shower curtain, and just bars of soap I took from the motel.

Oh, did I mention, I had no TV or stereo--just a clock radio? I'd lived in that motel, so I had my needs supplied. Those luxuries would should up in about another week or so, when my Dad Greyhound them to me. On this day, I waited for letters from my friends back home...ANYTHING. And I was readying myself for a test at my job--to make sure we all learned what color of papers to use for reservations in the US and Australia and cancellations.

In KC, is also when I began to use my full first name. It had to do with how distinguished the reps on the colored pieces of papers. A co-worker and I shared the same first and last initials. So I mentioned what my whole first name is actually two names with a hyphen in the middle. So since then, folks have known me by the whole first name, while those prior just first name of the two-name first name. Confused?

I lasted 6 months in Kansas City. Didn't have a car the entire time. Walked to work. Took me about 40 minutes. I walked straight through-no stops, and would walk home. Took a bus on some days. Or people would give me rides. Yet, I wasn't too bright to call for the bus schedule, because, one Saturday, I stood in the rain and waited for it, so I could get to work. It didn't show, so as I walked back to my apartment (which was on a hill), stopped at a 7-11 (since my phone was shut off) and called work to say I was sick. Hmm. I need to Google the distance I walked. I'm curious.

Anyway, in the diary, I wrote how I looked forward to the weekend--it was Monday, after all. I was determined to go and DO something the next weekend. Co-workers spoke of taking me around. I wonder if that happened. Little did I know, I would soon meet a guy at work. Develope such a crush and tell him, 'your name is so macho'--and later find out he was gay. Live and learn. This guy and I have known each other for 30 years. He took me to my first gay bar, showed me how to smoke my first joint and...well, the rest is for another entry--although I heard a particular song for first time at his house--as we all partied in his den as stereo blarred vinyl.

Oh well, It was the 70's. Six months does more than a memory make. Cue the Village People, for Friday IS this day and the particular song I heard for the first time in this guy's den? Hit play.