Tuesday, March 31, 2015

I cried Uncle

Some background on this memory from the late 1950's.  There was no such think as self serve at gas stations, now called service stations.  A hose went across the station drive way and rang a bell when a car rolled over it.  That let the attendant know when a car pulled in and he would come out and pump the gas, check the oil, and wash the windshield.  When ever my friends or I could get the family car, we would load up and drive around town, it was called cruising.  That did not have the meaning it does now.  We were not looking for sex, we were just out seeing who was doing what and who we could talk to.

This story is about silly teenagers.  My mother was dating my soon to be stepfather, Papa Jack, while I was in high school. When they got serious is when I started calling Jack "Papa Jack". And I still do. Jack had a hunky younger brother, Taylor, whom I dubbed UNCLE Taylor.  Don't you know a high school boy loved that.

I had just a little crush on Uncle Taylor.  Now no way would Taylor have ever dated me.  First off  he had a steady girl friend, we all hated her because she didn't even go to our school.  So she stole him from the locals.  Second reason he was an important football player and I was a Band Rat. (Yes, that is what we were called. We took the name and wore it with pride.)  Rarely did the football team notice Band Rats were alive.  So my friends and I did things to drive Uncle Taylor crazy.  Our favorite . . .

Taylor worked at a gas station.  We would drive over the bell, wait for him to come outside, then the whole car would scream,"Hi, Uncle Taylor!!!"  And then we drove off.  We only did that about 4 times a night.  There were cute boys hanging out at The Wing and the Hungry Hound we had to go flirt with them  (these were two of the popular drive-ins where we ate and socialized.

He still is Uncle Taylor to me. He has been family since 1962, so really my uncle. I hope he has forgiven me for loving to embarrass him in high school.

Memories are good. I plan to write other memories in the future.  You all need some laughs and not so many health stories.  Stay tuned for stories from the last 70 years.  I told you I am old.

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