Wednesday, August 23, 2017


Well, the eclipse is over. And so is summer, almost. It hasn't rained here in two days and everyone is getting nervous. 
Coyotes howled enthusiastically late last night. Gunshots echoed through the forest this afternoon. I doubt if the two things were related.

My usual foul mood is compounded by a sinus headache and an ear infection. I feel ear blockage and hear echoes. It's kinda like Black Sabbath is performing in my cochlea.
Don't panic. The cochlea is nothing sexual.

Speaking of sexual - - I was scanning some old photos into my computer last night. And I found this one photo that I had completely forgotten about, which is connected with a story that I had also completely forgotten about: my first kiss.

 Me on the left, Lynette on the right, with a very reasonable distance between us. This is a crappy photo with bad lighting, and some mysterious streaks on the film.

I was seven years old and we lived in Covina, California.
Lynette was around my age and lived across the street. We were just casual friends and I hardly remember her. Except for the kiss.

It happened in my back yard. In all fairness, Lynette was completely innocent. I was the aggressor, the perpetrator, the wolf in pursuit. But, for the life of me, I don't recall exactly what inspired my rash act of unbridled ardor.

I suddenly planted a big smooch right on Lynette's unsuspecting mouth, and I did it with admirable enthusiasm for an inexperienced seven-year-old.

My moment of bliss was of very short duration. As luck would have it, my mother and a neighbor lady were looking out their respective windows and saw me commit the blasphemous deed.

All hell broke loose in our reasonably quiet and conservative neighborhood, and I was soundly chastised and nearly banished and forced to wear a scarlet letter.

It's improper and inappropriate! my mother said.

It's immoral and unacceptable! a concerned neighbor lady chimed in.

You could get a disease from kissing someone! another do-gooder warned me.

I couldn't imagine what disease I'd contract from a seven-year-old virgin, but that was beside the realm of my eternal damnation. 

Anyway, the ugly incident put a major damper on my sexual proclivities for many years to come. Kissing was one more thing added to a tediously long list of unconscionable sins.

We moved to Pomona when I was eight, and the girl across the street from us there was named Carolyn. Carolyn was two years older than me and very wise in wicked ways. She made Lynette look like a Romper Room amateur.

But this post is getting long, so I'll leave Carolyn for another time.

So, Jon, when was the first time you ever kissed a boy?

You nasty people have minds lower than the bottom of the trash cans in the Edit Room of the National Enquirer.

If you really must know, I was a sweet and totally innocent nineteen-year-old. The lucky perpetrator was pushing thirty.

From there, I'll leave you hanging in agonizing suspense.....

I finally  corrected the typos. I may not be perfect, but I'm damn near it.


  1. Oh, I hope Lynette is watching!
    This is better than an episode of The Wonder Years ... and that defined poignancy.

    1. I think all that negative backlash over the kiss is what destroyed the "normalcy" in my sexuality (*smile*).
      It would be funny if Lynette could read this - but she probably doesn't remember the kiss (assuming that she's still around).

  2. Well, at least your first kiss was with a girl, Jon. Mine was when I was 5, in kindergarten, and my friend and classmate, Donald, walked up and planted one on my cheek. When I got home from school, I told my parents. They looked at each other, then at me and my dad said, "Well how about that." I figured sometimes kids just need to kiss somebody. No big deal. And it didn't destroy either of our lives. I'm sorry your 1st kiss was watched by half the neighborhood.

    1. t seems that my heart and hormones were initially in the right place, Geo. I don't know what the hell happened....except all the negativity undoubtedly warped me. Freud could probably figure it out.
      Mothers and neighbors always see everything....

      Your first kiss might have been with a boy, but at least it was only on the cheek. It could have been worse.

  3. I was six years old in second grade and a new little boy named Peter who had red hair and freckles walked up to me in the lunch line and gave me a kiss on the mouth. He took my hand and stood next to me. Seemed the most natural thing in the world. We were inseparable and I remember us sitting on the playground talking about what kind of house we would have and how many kids...and it seemed like we had done that before. We were describing the identical details to each other. We were so comfortable with each other the moment we laid eyes on each other...held hands a lot. (Past life?) I switched to public school in third grade and never saw him again.

    1. It's a shame that you never saw Peter again. I believe in fate and it sounds like that could have been the beginning of a beautiful friendship! I've known a few people who married their childhood sweethearts.

  4. I remember Romper Room. I learned the Pledge of Allegiance from watching it. I didn't go to nursery school so I think it prepared me for kindergarten.
    I don't recall any early childhood kisses. I was 13 or 14 and shared kisses (plural) with a sailor my cousin had brought along when they stayed with us for a few days. Very chaste kisses. No bases crossed.

    1. I remember watching Romper Room when I was a VERY tiny kid in New Jersey. I think it probably helped prepare me for school. Unfortunately I didn't go to kindergarten. They tossed me right into the first grade at age four!!

  5. what a shame that the innocence of a first kiss was interrupted by the prudish nature of some adults.

    1. Things were MUCH more restrictive when I was a kid than they are nowadays. I think too many harsh restrictions did more harm than good.

  6. I can't remember my first kiss. What an insensitive, unromantic little clod I must have been !

    1. It's good to see you back here, Jenny. This is one of my (many) dumb posts, but when I found that old photo I couldn't resist telling the story.


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