Last night Charlie and I watched an old movie, “He’s Just Not That Into You”, a rom com which brought back memories of my dating career.
Craig Manning was a shy, redheaded, freckle-faced fellow in high school who stuck pretty much to schoolwork and sports and hung out with a few neighborhood guys. I was younger than others in my class and was probably behind the curve in terms of social and sexual development. I also had no job nor a car, so taking a girl on a date (if I’d had the courage to pursue) was a non-starter.
I never dated in my four years of high school up until the last month or so. Then, I got hooked up for a Senior Prom date by my brother’s girlfriend Kay. She knew everyone and was aware that one of her girlfriends wanted to go to the Prom but her boyfriend was off at college. Sally Browne was her name, I knew of her, and she was a very nice and good-looking gal. In fact, she was a Homecoming Princess.
By this time, I was a varsity basketball player and cross country runner during school months and a lifeguard/swim instructor in the Summer. I was coming out of my awkwardness around girls and felt okay asking Sally out. We had a nice date at the beach before the prom and a very nice time at the prom itself. It was a one-off deal, there was no possibility of romance, I understood and was okay with that.
That Summer I got a car and had a few dates with gals that I’d met in my job as a lifeguard. I also hooked up with some nice girls from my old high school who’d I’d never noticed in four years. One was named Lynda, she was a Junior Lifeguard at the pool, and she was the first girl I ever kissed. Another one was named Cindy and I really liked her. We did a lot of fun things together; we were a good match. Unfortunately, we got into a silly argument one day and “separated” for a while. When I got back to her, a few months later, I found that she’d moved on with another guy. Damn, I was mad at myself. (I think she eventually married that guy, who was also named “Craig”.)
Then I was off to college (Cal State Los Angeles). Eventually, I got into a fraternity (Delta Chi) because they needed a good football player on their Greek intramural team. We competed in the championship game that year and lost to a TKE team that featured my old buddie from high school, Oscar Guerrero. (He actually beat me on a blown coverage and scored the winning touchdown. Damn, I was mad at myself.)
My time in Delta Chi was an eye-opener for me because me and my frat brothers were constantly going to fraternity mixers and meeting new sorority sisters. I ended up living at the frat house and we’d have big parties there, too. I recall dancing one evening with Cheryl Tiegs who was not only a Cal State sorority gal but also a world-famous model by the tender age of 20. She was tall and skinny, beautiful, and nice.
I had an on-again, off-again relationship with a gal named Judy during that time. She was also in a sorority (Delta Gamma, I think) and I got the feeling that she was on the prowl for a husband. I wasn’t ready for any of that stuff, so we eventually moved off on our own.
By 1967 I was dating a different girl pretty much every week. They were all interesting and nice and, in retrospect, taught me a lot about women. I enjoyed every one of them, to be truthful. I can’t recall ever having a “bad” date, at least in my mind. Every woman is different and I appreciated the variety of characters that I encountered.
I was also becoming a big shot down at the pool during the Summer. I had started as a Junior Lifeguard when I was 16 and moved up the ranks to the point that, by 1968, I was the Manager of the Barnes Park Pool in Monterey Park. I would teach swimming for three hours in the morning, get the 50-meter pool ready for customers (up to 500), manage the lifeguard and customer service aspects of the pool from 1 to 5 p.m., have some dinner, and return in the evening to teach swimming to adults. Long hours, lots of money earned, a few lives saved, and lots of socialization with the crew.
My best friend Pat Freemon managed the other public pool (Grandview) in Monterey Park, and the crews working these facilities knew each other and socialized together. We had bonfire parties at the beach in the evening. It was So Cal living at its best.
I met and dated a lot of female lifeguards, cashiers, and locker room attendants during my years at the pool. Every one of them was interesting in their own way and we had good times.
One of them was a former classmate of mine from high school who was drop-dead gorgeous and just as nice a person. “Nancy” was physically a blend of Marilyn Monroe and Scarlett Johansson. I can recall taking her to a fraternity mixer in Westwood (UCLA) and the head of every frat guy turned in my direction when I walked into the room with her. Nancy and I dated a couple of times that Summer and I could tell that she had some problems at home: there was a sadness in her that she kept to herself. I hope things worked out for her.
Back at college, I was burning the candle at both ends, socially, but not really focusing on my studies. I played more pool in the Student Union than I studied. Not surprisingly, I got mononucleosis toward the end of my third year and moved back into my parents’ home to recoup. At about that time, I met a friend of my sister Kellie and really hit it off with her. Her name was Pam Townsend, she was short and petite, pretty, and fun to do stuff with. I had a Honda Scrambler back then, and we liked to ride off road in the local hills. I’d take her to first-run movies in Hollywood and Westwood. She was perfect and life was good, in that respect.
However, I had an epiphany that year in college. I realized that I was un-focused, not getting business done in class, and was in jeopardy of losing my academic deferment draft status. I was depressed. One day, after doing some soul searching, I decided that I would try to jump-start the serious side of my life by enlisting in the Air Force. I don’t think I told anyone about this “plan”, not Pam nor my parents.
It was time to grow up, so off I went into the military during the Vietnam War.
Pam stuck by my decision, we wrote letters back and forth a lot, and it really helped with the loneliness during the first year. I saw Pam when I came home on leave from basic training, we did a lot of fun things together, we had sex, and I told her I loved her. When I later got stationed in Washington D.C., I had Pam fly out there and we spent a week seeing all of the sights, living together, sleeping together, and such. I thought I’d really found true love.
A few months later, though, I got the dreaded “Dear John” letter from Pam. She had begun airline stewardess school in L.A. and had met a guy (a cop, I think). She was in love, she said, and I was devastated, although I couldn’t blame her for wanting companionship.
So much for my “true love”.
I didn’t do a lot of dating during my two-year stay in Washington D.C. I was heartbroken, to a certain extent, and was there to become a certified xray tech. I concentrated on learning my craft and socialized on occasion with some of my military peers. I dated a fellow student named Marge for a bit, spent a weekend at her parents’ home in Pennsylvania, but she was a very traditional Catholic girl, kind of stodgy, and there were no romantic sparks. (She was a nice gal; I sure hope she found Mr. Right).
My dating life picked up when I got relocated to Castle AFB near Merced, California in 1971. I was a Sergeant now, living off base, and my Air Force job was essentially a 9 to 5 commitment. In my spare time, I attended Merced J.C. and then Cal State Stanislaus, where I pulled straight A’s.
I was beginning to get my drive back… which was the sole purpose for joining the military in the first place. My plan was working.
I dated a couple of gals early in my time at Castle AFB: one was a nurse (an AF officer), who I took camping in Yosemite, and another was a student that I’d met at Merced J.C. Both were nice gals but there was no romance happening with them.
The hospital at Castle AFB was a teaching hospital for xray students enrolled at Merced JC. I was one of the teachers and, accordingly, met a couple of students named Pat and Ruby. They were buddies, were in their thirties, and were both friendly and good-looking. Pat was a sexy divorcee and was quite flirtatious, and it was not long until we were exploring each other in the darkroom while ostensibly developing xrays. That led to some dates and some sex. It was all good fun among consenting adults. I think Pat was looking for a Sugar Daddy and I wasn’t that guy so, after a month or two, she moved on to her next mark.
Pat’s friend Ruby was the nicest of the two. She was married to an AF pilot who was off in Vietnam doing who-knows-what to those Vietcong. She was evidently very lonely, as she came onto me as soon as Pat was through. (I’m guessing that I got a good review, because it wasn’t long before Ruby and I were getting frisky.) Ruby was a very warm and cuddly gal (kind of Dolly Parton-ish) who had a couple of kids at home. I felt guilty about her husband and all, but really enjoyed my brief time with her, including some great sex.
I hope Ruby and her husband stayed together and had a happy life together.
A lothario I am not, but in the eight years since high school I had dated maybe four dozen different women and enjoyed the company of them all. My brother Terry, on the other hand, married the only girl he ever dated. My best friend, Pat, did the same thing. Who knows what’s best in this field? I am very thankful for my experience in this area because it helped me appreciate women in all their variety and find the right gal to marry.
I met Charlie when I was recently separated from the Air Force, was finishing up my B.A. degree requirements at Cal State and was working part-time at Queen of the Valley Hospital in Covina, California. It was there that I met a cute LVN who used to bring patients down to radiology for xrays. Little did I know that she was a divorcee with four young sons, living in a crummy neighborhood in Valinda, needing food stamps to feed the family, and barely making do. She also had an “ex” who was an abusive asshole. To top it off, she was a product of a very strict Catholic upbringing; in fact, she had gone to high school in a convent.
Scary…
However, I was able to see that this gal, with all her baggage, was the right one for me. She was warm, caring, hard-working, and a good Mom. Everyone at the hospital knew her and loved her because she had a heart of gold. Charlie allowed me be Dad to her kids, who really needed it. My parents loved her from the get-go. Her parents respected me, even though I was not Catholic nor religious in any manner.
It all fit, surprisingly.
Charlie and I have been together now for about 49 years; she’s obviously the best thing that ever happened to me.
Had I never dated all of those women, I probably wouldn’t have been able to discern the “right one” when she, a very unlikely prospect, materialized before me.
So, I have all my previous female friendships to thank for helping me discover the Mother Lode.