ONE OF MY EXS LIVES IN TEXAS
Don't get me wrong. This is no Bill Murray journey to visit old girlfriends. But once I started charting the trip through Tenn. I started thinking about my first love and the girl I followed south right after graduating from High School. We were an odd match. I was a hippie, stoner, wannabe artist and she was a homecoming queen, brainiac, wannabe Sorority sweetheart. Once allowed to spread our wings mine became atrophied, a bit twisted and turned into a tail. Hers grew straight and true, fluttering like my rapid heartbeats when we were separated.
I wasn't smart enough to get into the school she was attending and settled on a suitcase college in the North Carolina mountains. The sign at the front of the college read- Western Carolina University. Spray painted over that was- Home of the WCU Space Cowboys. It was a good choice. She, on the other hand, was matriculated 100 miles across the Smokie Mountains at UT Knoxville. I drove my '59 Volkswagon over those mountains every weekend I could. My hair grew. Her accent got thicker. I called her Sweets. She called me Dimps. I know. I know. What can I say? We were young, dumb and full of.....unicorns and rainbows.
We broke up and got back together alot. To be honest I have no idea why we went into this pattern. By the second year of college I had gotten my grades up to the point UT accepted me. We loaded all our stuff in a 1951 Ford pickup and drove to Knoxville. Then we broke up again. At first I roomed with two jocks, one of which robbed me and smiled sweetly to the cops when they showed. He looked like a Ken doll.The cops liked him better than me. His name was Ken. Then I moved into a $60 per month slum with a guy who had a giant penis and insisted on showing me what he was packing way too much. He wasn't gay- just proud. By xmas break I'd had enough. I moved home and went to work as a roofer in the New England winter. By spring I was back in Tenn. We never did get back together. They say you never forget your first love. I say you never forget any of them, but the first IS special.
Last night I called Sweets' mom and got her email. She had moved from Tenn. to Dallas. She WAS on the way. I dropped an email. Within an hour she had replied. I hadn't seen her since our 20th high school reunion and that was 16 years ago. Her tone was familiar and very welcoming that i stop in. She was divorced with grown kids. She asked what I had been up to? Well, lets see...
I wasn't smart enough to get into the school she was attending and settled on a suitcase college in the North Carolina mountains. The sign at the front of the college read- Western Carolina University. Spray painted over that was- Home of the WCU Space Cowboys. It was a good choice. She, on the other hand, was matriculated 100 miles across the Smokie Mountains at UT Knoxville. I drove my '59 Volkswagon over those mountains every weekend I could. My hair grew. Her accent got thicker. I called her Sweets. She called me Dimps. I know. I know. What can I say? We were young, dumb and full of.....unicorns and rainbows.
We broke up and got back together alot. To be honest I have no idea why we went into this pattern. By the second year of college I had gotten my grades up to the point UT accepted me. We loaded all our stuff in a 1951 Ford pickup and drove to Knoxville. Then we broke up again. At first I roomed with two jocks, one of which robbed me and smiled sweetly to the cops when they showed. He looked like a Ken doll.The cops liked him better than me. His name was Ken. Then I moved into a $60 per month slum with a guy who had a giant penis and insisted on showing me what he was packing way too much. He wasn't gay- just proud. By xmas break I'd had enough. I moved home and went to work as a roofer in the New England winter. By spring I was back in Tenn. We never did get back together. They say you never forget your first love. I say you never forget any of them, but the first IS special.
Last night I called Sweets' mom and got her email. She had moved from Tenn. to Dallas. She WAS on the way. I dropped an email. Within an hour she had replied. I hadn't seen her since our 20th high school reunion and that was 16 years ago. Her tone was familiar and very welcoming that i stop in. She was divorced with grown kids. She asked what I had been up to? Well, lets see...
posted by mike osterhout at 7:41 AM
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