I would never let anyone know how difficult my days had become. Nothing could be done about it. I simply had to accept what was and deal with it. If I had my choice I would never have spent another day in that school. At the same time, my father was drinking so heavily that he lost another job. Money was scarce and my mother started in with her ulcer attacks. The only thing that made her smile was playing bridge with her pals. I had broken up with David Warner, because of some lies told to me by jealous girls. I found this out too late, so my young heart was broken. When I did find out, I could have kicked myself around a thousand blocks. It was a hard lesson, and one that still bothers me, strangely enough. Spending time with David was a happy time in my life, and it ended much too soon, because of my inexperience. It was lousy being at school but it was lousier being at home.
A seething anger towards my poor father grew stronger with every passing day. He was drinking too much and dropping out from his jobs, family and reality. He just couldn’t cope. I didn’t understand this and wondered where the gentle man went; the man who I had spent my best days with, the man who had been there for me, in my darkest hours. It never even occurred to me, that my father was right there, but in a deep pain; and perhaps in his darkest hour. I could have been there for him, then, but I wasn’t.
Eighth grade graduation from Our Mother of Good Counsel came and went, marking the end of my Catholic school days. Sandy Clevenger and I decided to attend summer school at Le Cont Jr. High, in Hollywood ( a school even rougher than King ) in order to prepare ourselves for public school in the fall. Sandy would, however, continue on to Le Conte. We started growing apart because she was moving faster than I, smoking, having sex with guys.
Aside from a splatter of Judy’s faithful cronies, I was basically alone. On the second morning of summer school, the weather had turned cool, with a mist which was typical for early June, in L.A. Everything seemed a bit surreal, as the trees swayed in the soft wind. Suddenly, I heard a ruckus and out of the haze, emerged a small crowd moving across the school yard, in locomotion. Curious, I moved closer to see what the spectacle was all about. There, in the midst of the hubbub was the reason; a boy who was so staggeringly movie star handsome, that my mouth dropped open. His skin was dark, as were his eyes and wavy hair, and his lips were full and sumptuous. I wondered about him . . . this leader of the pack . . . luscious, bad boy.
If only we knew then what we know now...but we can only see life with what experience we have at that point. Paula, you definitely know how to leave us hanging on every word, and dangling at the end!
At times I feel like an eighteen year old or less, that I haven't changed, but when you think of life in the terms that you wrote...to go back knowing what we know now, Gosh, I would really like to re-do things, but then that would entail others to respond As you think they will with your new and improved insite, there in lies the essence, of the if only...one will never know.... it bugs me!!!
ME TOO!!!!!!!!!! I sometimes look back at my life and wonder...what the HEL* was I thinking??? But you're right...life is a series of concentric circles, and the crossing at one point in your life may not be the same as at another.
I would like to Thank Bobby Jameson for putting up my link on his fb site, I have not put all of them here...., no the ones on my site but every once in a while I think to do so...Thank you again Bobby. This is one, that is rather extensive in comments, Ha!
great writing ...I felt as though I was there, standing in the office with the nun...listening to girl gossip and throwing away someone important to me...really powerful Paula
Once again, you remind me of how glad I am I got out of Catholic school after 3rd grade. Thanks. But I do have fond memories of playing in the "folk mass" band years later.
It was fun. This beautiful nun enlisted my little power trio for a rhythm section and we had a bevy of beautiful young girls singing and playing acoustic guitar. The drums and electric bass were scandalous, but we packed the gymnasium every Sunday.
Wow That is rather cool. We had nothing like that... at our church we just had the little nun who played organ as she fervently looked up to the heavens.....
Oh I get it.... Wow. I don't know about nuns then. I was so horrified with my experience that I didn't keep up. I only know that the strict Immaculate Heart Order refused to recognize the pope as their head of church, and they don't wear habits and they live together in apartments.
Thank-you Sharon/That is just a coincidence. Actually I wrote that part more than two years ago. But I noticed that also, as I re read it for the blog. I hadn't read that since the two year ago mark.
Actually, if the truth be known, there are many a young boy that have been victimized by women. We all have heard about that. Now I know I opened up a hornets nest!
Cool beans, Paula! I didn't realize you had a FarceBook I mean FaceBook, also...I'll check it out. Looks like tons of great comments from that side of the spectrum too...
Yes fb has it's moments. People tend to open up on Bobby's site / but this many comments on my link is not the norm, but it is fun. I should go back and post more, there are a few further back on these blogs. Anyway, Toodles! and Thanks
Posted by Paula on Wednesday, May 26, 2010 - 1:41 PM
EASY TO BE HARD
Often, there was the question of how, when or where. What matters most is why...
They say there is but five degrees of separation between all of us.
This is my story and observations about growing up under the infamous Hollywood Sign, in the 50's 60' and 70's. This is also a story of my entering the fast lane, and finding that if I wanted to survive, I had to get off it, but... it wasn't that easy.
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