MY FIRST REAL KISS (1950'S) .

Now, the last few stories are 100 % true, and I have departed from me and Blythe for awhile and turn to sporadic stories from the past.  This might also be called American youth in the 50's or it might be called a very cool house party I happened into.  America was on the cusp of its prosperity.  A new sound had come on scene called rock an roll.  A new batch of rebellious movies had come out like Rebel Without a Cause or Blackboard Jungle.  A new look, a new attitude, a new breed of cars called Hot Rods..often sporting 200 hp engines.  Cute girls became chicks and seemed to be attracted to either the black leather bad boys or the jocks with many blazers sporting gold medals.  That left guys like me in a outsider position...shy, insecure, and longing for a chick of my own.  Had never kissed a girl...yet..and I was sixteen.  Allot of us were insecure, and bolstered our bravery with a  six pack of beer.  So, there we were in Rod's 40 Ford just cruising.  Word was out on a house party up on Mountain Avenue.  We cruised Mountain and we found it by all the hot rods parked and music coming from the house.  Invitations not necessery.  We didn't even knock..just went in !  There must have been thirty kids there..all of them so cool or so cute.  Some dancing, some making out in the corner.  It didnt matter, we were welcome by the hostess..not a Mother, a chick whose parents were on a week end trip.  Those were the best parties. Some drinking, but no drunks.  I found a place to hide and watch others and their chicks...just longing to be like they were.  My beer really helped....out of no where, this cutie came over and just sat on my lap.  I was terror stricken.  Trying to be funny, I put my arms around her and said "I am a flesh eating plant"   It was then that my world turned into a soft haze.  She pulled me up and danced with me..smiling all the time.  She said I was too bashful and shoudn't be.  It was a slow dance and it seemed so natural to me..all fears fled...soft hair, perfume, .(I remember, that night in May..the stars above were shining bright..)  when the song ended she said I was a good dancer and she gave to me a soft and lasting kiss....the only thing I remember after that was waking up in my bed on Saturday morning...no noise...parents still asleep.  Sun peeking in...I looked at my clothes from  the night before just tossed on the floor...was it a dream?   What was her name?   I remembered writing something down and putting the paper in my wallet.  I ran and got my wallet and feverishly looked for a paper...what was her name ?   I found a paper and all it had on it was "Kerr on Klump"  Klump was a street in the San Fernando Valley....I rushed to the phone book and looked..many Kerrs; none on Klump....Obsession is a disease..for weeks...going here and there..."Do you know a Dorothy Kerr on Klump?  No one did.  The only proof it happened were some strands of her hair on my dark sweater...which I saved in an envelope....I suffered for weeks.
Now, my wife and I are old and we nap allot.  We often talk about our lives when we were young.    I will never forget Dorothy Kerr....but, that is all it is,  a memory...Like Jimmy Durante used to close his program..."Good night, Miss Calabash, wherever you are."     Allot to say goodbye to...our youth, the way we were....the way America was......It was a very good ride...back then...