I've been thinking about random happenings and how they shape our lives.

When I was 16, I dated a girl named Lily - I think her dad owned a catering service or something similar. I felt very strongly for her but, in retrospect, I guess I’m not really sure if it was infatuation as much as it was my overactive teenage hormones. At any rate, I wanted to spend a lot of my time with her - and she with me, as it turns out. One Friday afternoon, just hours before a school dance, I asked her if she’d go steady with me. I think the exact words I used were, "Would you go around with me?" but it meant the same thing. It took me ages to build up the courage to ask, even though I had the feeling that she felt much the same for me as I did for her. I was really pleased when she said yes.

In Lily's basement, summer 1970

There is one incident with Lily which I remember, although I guess it was somewhat embarrassing at the time. Lily played flute in the school band, and I played french horn. It wasn’t uncommon for us to schedule time in the same practice room so that we could play our instruments and, at the same time, be with each other. One day, our overactive teenage hormones got the better of us and we started necking in the practice room. Well, one thing led to another and pretty soon we were on the floor rolling around. It didn’t get very far mind you - just a bit of touchy-feely. The embarrassing bit was when someone, not knowing we were in there (since we weren’t exactly playing our instruments at the time) opened the door to discover us on the floor, me with my hand under Lily’s sweater! To this day, I have no idea who it was. Well, it was a bit embarrassing at the time, but I guess it was rather harmless.

A few weeks later I was talking with her on the phone when, for some reason, my dad got it into his head that he didn’t like me spending so much time with Lily; spending so much time away from my school work. He yanked the phone out of my hand, told her in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t going to see her again, and then hung up on her. I was outraged. I don’t remember quite what I said because I think I was still in shock that he could have done anything so disrespectful but, in all these years, I’ve never forgotten that incident, and I’ve never forgiven him for his actions that day. I couldn’t believe that he would act this way! I know that my dad remembers this incident, because I don’t think I've ever let him forget it!

I think I’ve always been somewhat cruel to my dad, and I’m not sure if this incident with Lily was the catalyst, or simply the culmination of having felt this way for a long time. I just don’t know. What I do know however, is that my relationship with my dad has always been strained - at least for me. He always seemed to be concerned about money - well, I don’t suppose I can really fault him for that except that his concern for money led him to believe that money would solve most problems. I figured out, a long time ago, that I could always go to my dad for financial support and that for him, giving me money was a means of expressing his affection. I really think I’d have preferred to hear him say that he loved me, or that he was proud of me, or something to that effect - I just don’t ever remember the words though.

I think a lot of men of his generation had difficulty expressing their feelings and perhaps it’s because I was raised in a different time that I somehow felt that he should have been better able to express himself. At any rate, it didn’t happen. Oddly enough, I never heard my mom tell me that she loved me or was proud of me until I was an adult - already married and divorced. I think this feeling that I wasn’t worthy of either love or pride stemmed from those early days, but it didn’t really have its full impact until years later - in fact, it’s one of the reasons why I now write this chronicle.