Among all the treasures to cherish, the family is second to none. I think young people are not provided with sufficient knowledge and skills to assemble and keep one.
In several earlier posts, I recounted how very fortunate I was to have been born into a very loving, attentive and instructive family. In spite of The Great Depression and very little money, I was the richest kid in town, with the things that money-can’t-buy.
“Lessons From My Grandmother”
“Dusting the Erasers”
“You Can Lead a Burro To Water…”
By the time I was 14 years old, I had a driver’s licence, I could drive a manual shift transmission, and change a flat tire. I could camp in the woods, build a fire without matches, and catch, clean, and cook fish. However, parents, teachers, and ministers who were, usually all over us, like flies at a picnic, were looking-the-other-way on the topic of boy-girl social rituals and the reproductive skills which were required to produce the next generation of families and progeny. Until The Sixties, whoever was having sex was not talking about it; not in my home town. This was cold-shower country. There was a Holywood code for the movies we saw that forbid a scene with men and women in bed together. Some of Jane Russell’s scenes were edited out because of her deep decolletage.
I guess we were supposed to figure out how to attract and charm a young maiden, negotiate cooperatively a relationship, and generate a couple of children with some in-born skill similar to way migrating birds find their way around. In 1946-1952, no adult used any words which related to human reproduction. No adult ever said:”Oh bye-the-way, the Stork doesn’t bring babies”. The one statement I can remember was: “Don’t get girl-crazy like some guys do.”
The nearest thing to male-female social skills instruction was the dreaded Dance Lessons. How to even talk nicely to a girl, to say nothing about dancing with one, was not part of the school, church, or scouts curricula. There were three professional dance ladies who rented a dance floor, once evening a week. Two of them demonstrated the dance techniques by dancing with each other. The third played the piano with (yes) a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. Smoking was very prevalent almost anywhere in those days.
The picture below is how I felt about Dance Lessons!
In Junior High School the Hormone Storms began. One of the cruelest tricks that Mother Nature plays on boys is this: girls mature about two years ahead of the boys in the same class. Before a whisker appears or our voices had changed, the girls had gone through two brassiere sizes. I felt like the Basset Hound in the picture below, paired with girl symbolized by the Afgan. We were supposed to move around to music while not stepping on her feet (while we were looking at her chest that she had stuck out).
Based on this amount of instruction of relating to the fairer gender, I’ll never understand how I wound up with such a smart and beautiful wife and my sons with such outstanding life-partners.
Charles Clanton Rogers November 21, 2015
ReBlog or Share
Please leave a note.