BLOND HAIR, BLUE EYES 

AND A CROOKED SMILE—

Within a couple of years, I was back with a vengeance. I was always popular with the kids at school, and at twelve and thirteen, more so than ever. I had a fan club. The senior girls all fancied me no end. They teased me so much it was difficult not to blush. They liked my blond hair, blue eyes, and the crooked smile that was bound to escape my sometimes melancholy spirit, at some point breaking through to the mischievous side that propelled me in my teenage years. They liked rock stars and soccer players, and I could head in either direction.

             The counter culture offered me everything I could dream of, but with temporary fulfillment. I tried the long hair, attitude, The Who, Zeppelin, Marc Bolan, Carnaby Street. The rebellious scene that was so me. I dressed different from everyone else, and when the fads came and went, I still had my own style, influenced obviously but I kept my own image, easily identifiable. However, when my mates, Robbo and Hurkey, went into skinhead mode, I stubbornly declined.

          

            Times were changing and I would not be left behind. I attempted to be the things I had never been and to do the things I’d never done. The things my mother would have helped me through. But she was gone. My dad was a fine man who loved us very much, but he was not my mom. At least I was picky about the girls, always comparing them to Mom.



Coming Soon—GIBBO
Jane BG

Posted 2nd May 2011 by Jane B. Gaddy