CHRISTMO'S COMPLAINT

The period of time between my grandfather dying and hooking up with Sweets wasn't that long, but as emotionally dry as a sack of lime. I felt abandoned- lost. In fact thinking back on it, outside of beating up on my little brothers I'd had no physical contact with anyone in quite a while. It's a puberty thing. Once those years start to encroach it's hands off. You can't remember the tickles and snuggles you enjoyed as a sprout. It's all part of the maturing process but no one informs you of that. If your parents do touch you it's as punishment. Toughen up son. Here comes the real world.
Sweets and I were hot for one another from the git go. She'd had other boyfriends but she was my first girlfriend. That fact alone gave her the upper hand. A little bit of experience goes a long way when you're 15. I was always playing catch up and trying my damndest to get in there. High school was a bitch. I was smart but it was a different kind of smart. The bells, regimentation and even the architecture of the educational system in 1960s America alienated me. I didn't want to play along, so I didn't. I was always kicking the slats of my cage. Sweets on the other hand was smart in a way that fit in. She got good grades and didn't mind playing along with all the bullshit. We were just wired differently. We made a pretty good team most of the time.
As I got older i kept doing my little drawings and even became captain of the wrestling team. After school I got a job as a janitor at the local elementary school. It was the same job my grandfather had before he got too sick to clean the toilets. Because I was tall and skinny wrestling was the one sport I didn't suck at. Then one night sitting at the Howard Johnson's I lifted Sweets' Tarryton from the ashtray and took a deep drag. Then I looked up to see the assistant coach glaring at me. He'd always had it in for me and this gave him the excuse he needed to get rid of my ass. That ended my wrestling career. I really didn't care. Now I could eat.
By the time we graduated Sweets had been accepted at UT Knoxville and i got in WCC Cullowhee, NC. The only reason I applied there was it was 100 miles across the Smoky mountains from my girlfriend. That, and the fact that in order to stay out of the Army I had to attend college somewhere. In 1970 the draft was in full effect and my number was 33. If I blinked Uncle Sam would have my ass. NC was a helluva lot better than Saigon. I got in my 1959 VW, waved goodbye to the family and headed south to the world of higher education. I was still a virgin.