First Love....

My first love...

Having said that, let me qualify it just a bit without tarnishing it. He was not the first boy I loved or had a crush on. He was not the first boy who set my heart a flutter, but he was the first with whom I had a relationship... my first... well, you know... and...

he played a banjo..

and a guitar...

he made music.

I was lost from the start.

I'm delving into this topic today because I heard from him last week. I found him on the internet about 10 years ago and we exchanged e-mails at that time, but he mostly sent those stoopid joke e-mails that I so hate... having no real discussions to sustain us, we drifted apart again.

But he called last week. He doesn't sound well. He's not well. I won't go into his infirmities, but life has been a lot harder on him than me. I told him it was his fault for going back to MIT and leaving me in Los Angeles (grin). It was a good call in 1963, although it hurt like hell. He went back to school and got his next girlfriend pregnant, something over which I had total control at the time... apparently, she didn't.. or lied to him and then got pregnant. Doesn't matter. He has been married 3 times, and if we had gotten together it would have been 4... four sure... (!). He is happily married now, although he sounded wistful.

We met... hell, I don't remember... but it was the heyday of folk groups, and we joined with a neighbor and tried out with some big folk promoter. Didn't work... I would have said we probably weren't charismatic enough, looking back on it. We could all sing, but, knowing what I know now about the "it" factor in music, I'm sure we didn't have it... "it" that is...

We had that first experience kind of romance. We did silly things and said silly things and behaved badly around people we didn't know. I don't think I've had that kind of relationship since... not that giddy girl thing. It was heady stuff... a girl could get used to that kind of stuff.

He was out here to study at UCLA for the year and then he went home. I thought for a while he might come back, but then, miraculously, they opened a taco stand in Boston, and I knew I'd lost him forever. Mexican food and I might have called him back, but I lost the edge...

to a taco stand..

in Boston!

go figure...