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| Doing it up "Proper" in 1973 |
1968: I remember hippies passing through town in “Make Love, Not War” t-shirts, peace
sign-wearing draft dodgers strumming guitar in our living room, and the chaos
and exhilaration of a Mandala concert at our local “Y”. And I remember a phone
call from a boy I’d never met, asking me if I was the girl in the coat that
“looks like a barber shop pole.” I defended my red, white, and blue fashion
statement with its bold centre-front zipper, but I gave the caller a
chance.
We talked for four hours and twenty minutes on the phone, and
two weeks later when I agreed to meet this stranger who had stalked me at
school, there was a great deal of speculation concerning what he looked like. On
the appointed day, my little sister beat me to the front door, flung it wide
open, and announced, “OOOH, He’s got freckles!”
The rude greeting didn’t deter him; in fact; that British
Mod coat-dress, which my mother made to resemble one in Seventeen Magazine, snagged me a husband. We got 'hitched' at a
Sadie Hawkins dance at school
Today, we’re the proud parents of three grown children and
although we’ve been through a lot together, inside I’m still the girl who was
happy to get married at the Sadie Hawkins dance, in braids and a scratchy old
potato sack.
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