Monday, December 23, 2013

***The Roots Is The Toots- The Music That Got Them Through The Great Depression And World War II…
 
 
…it wasn’t always about the struggle against some big societal hurts, against food hunger or that gnawing hunger, want hunger that eats away at a woman or man, it wasn’t always about what to do next to keep body and soul together, it wasn’t always about desperate heroic deeds ahead in places nobody had ever heard of , it wasn’t always about what to do, or not do, about fighting the night-takers of the world, it wasn’t always desperately waiting for news, waiting for the other shoe to drop about Johnny, Jimmy or Leroy.   A lot of that was for those older coming of age youth but for the younger ones, the ones left to put nickels and dimes in Doc’s Drugstore jukebox (or name your jukebox location), it looked a lot like stuff that had been going on ever since some guy, some old guy from what everybody head, invented teenage-hood several decades before. And so it was with him, him and his hidden desire, virginal desire, maybe, maybe not, such things were kept on the QT then, for her, and the way she disturbed his dreams, disturbed his night.
It all started like all such things started no need to detail every little point like the story hadn’t been told before, hadn’t been told since Adams and Eve, maybe before. He spied her all black hair and freshness, she gave a furtive glance his way, maybe in class at school, maybe at Doc’s when some dreamy song came on the jukebox, or maybe in the back row of church, the possibilities were endless. They talked and they did their mating dance. They went out together, boy-girl together, made out, maybe more, but like I said such things were closely held in those days. Reputations mattered and everybody knew everybody else so if an “accident” occurred the old gone to Aunt Ethel gag came into play.
Whatever happened at night they had their favorite song, favorite spot (down at the far end of Squaw Rock, okay, meaning no question they doing it since nobody went there to get swoony over the ocean), favorite everything that there could be a favorite for. Then the hammer came down. See, that first furtive glance that got him going she gave him was to get Billy mad, Billy who had split them up running after some Jane and who was now contrite, was back in her field of vision, and so he, well, to put it in cold hard teen talk, was yesterday’s news. Yes, yesterday’s news and wandering, constantly wandering down at Squaw Rock, wondering.
Yes, wondering like some fool, like some kid fool and he almost ready to go, after summer’s end if he could survive this hurt, to his senior year in high school and then off to join brothers and fathers in that great big shooting gallery oversea (his preference, like his older brothers, to go west, go west to get those Japs, those beasts, after Pearl). But now kid hurt, kid hurt wondering how his old corner- boy, corner boy, junior high school version and so harmless standing older guys-like against Mom and Pops’ Variety Store until Mom and Pop chased them away, or they had to do homework, Billy, could cut him that way, could come back and take her away with the snap of his fingers when he knew for a blessed fact that Billy was just playing with her, playing with her fragile heart.
And as it turned out that was exactly what Billy was doing, or that was the way that she started to understand his actions, his sneaking out with other women, again. Actions that were trumped though by the happenings in Europe and Asia as Billy’s number was called and he went, went not like a lot of other guys with an air of resignation but kicking and screaming about how he was more useful on the home front. So much hot air according to his friends and neighbors at the local draft board. Trumped too by him, by his wandering and wondering as she once again was seen at Doc’s alone, playing that old jukebox, spending her nickels and dimes, constantly playing That’s When Your Heartache Begins. He spied her, she gave him the now familiar furtive glance and so they started that old mating dance again.  Started until his number too was called and with an air of resignation he was off. She saw him off at the station when he was ready to go to the uncertain European front, saw him off with tears. The night before they had vowed that they would get married when he got back, got back in one piece, and she swore too that she would play their song, Til Then, on Doc’s old jukebox every day until he returned. How about that, my friends.  

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