(no subject)
"I Want To Hold Your Hand!"
It seems most appropriate to do "Jo's Monday Morning Warm-Up" as I've been over-dosing on early Beatles' tunes with all their silly sixties boy-girl lyrics....
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I'm sure the first time I held a girl's hand was when I "had" to! One of those embarrassing school-things or more likely a wedding reception where adults get a special thrill out of combining little-kid cousins or strangers in those "oh-isn't-that-cute" hand-holding or worse yet dancing poses to be captured forever in some photo album...
And being a "good-parochial-school-Catholic-boy" my dating skills (Ha!) had to wait til high-school years. Anne was my first girlfriend. And I'm sure "hand-holding" was only as far as that romance got 'cause before I knew it I was seen talking to another female and that week-long relationship was OVER!
But my story is about an awkward hand-holding.
I was in the Drama Club my four years of high school. I enjoyed acting. Don't really know if I was any good. But I enjoyed it.
In fact, this story more or less decides "I wasn't a good actor". I liked my character roles. I loved playing the dual roles in one play. An old English paper boy (with my best "Beatle accent" that would sometimes drift into my best "German accent"). And a mortician with a twitch.
I was however NOT a "leading man". As much as I "doth protest" I got the role in one play as "the dashing hero". (Yuk!) My leading lady was really a very nice girl. (We had so many laughs about this play at our 20th reunion!) But for some reason she was as nervous or embarrassed as I was. Only hers was displayed in very sweaty hands!
There was no room in this school play for any "serious signs of affection" (Thank God!) So it needed to be presented to the audience in form of hand-holding. LOTS OF IT! In fact, EVERYTIME Corrine and I were on stage together we were to hold hands!
Nothing the back-stage crew could do in the way of talcum powder could help this poor girl! So, after every scene I had to grab a towel and prepare my hands for next soaking. In one scene, I needed to grab a weapon--a stick or a broom handle--to ward off the villain. I released my fair lady's hands and out of last-minute desperation I unprofessionally wiped my hands on my trouser should our only defense against the hammer-wielding foe slide out of my wet grip!