Saturday, February 12, 2011

Thursday, February 12th, 1976

The day passed quickly, the most significant event being that I finished my history with Debbie in 12 pages. By the last page I came to realize that I never really knew Debbie at all. In very few ways am I today that same person I wrote about and I'm sure she isn't either. I walked past her old house after school. There was very little magic left.

Speaking of school. I couldn't believe it but Angie got five or six Valentine cookies! As anticipated, I got none.

Dad won 20 dollars on the Ohio Lottery tonight!

Uncle Jim called for a half hour this evening and talked with Mom. Naturally, they discussed me. I honestly think they'd understand if I had a real relationship with a girl but as it is, Mom told him I'm not interested in girls! I am, of course, but just completely trying to avoid the pain and disappointment of reality by remaining "unreal." I don't like it but if I'm honest with myself, I have to admit it's me. It's just who I am. Why would a girl ever like me? If I ever get up enough nerve to ask another girl out, I don't know what I'll do if I'm refused again. Guess I'll have to give it up completely.

NOTES: Okay, so I need to read ahead. Obviously I DID finish my memoir of Debbie. No clue why I don't still have it. Sounds like it did provide a type of closure, though. The problem was quite simply that since Debbie had moved away in 1970, I really hadn't had a girl friend that I felt as close to as I had with her. Yes, we were kids but her leaving left a gap in my life that just wasn't filled. We tried to stay in touch but we grew apart quickly as we became teens and the calls and letters became less frequent and then went away. I had a hard time letting go completely. I had never had a problem talking with girls as a child but as a teen it all seemed so very different so I took a passive approach, waiting for them to talk with me first...which rarely happened. Debbie would turn up one last time later this year.

My mother's brother, Uncle Jim, was a big, macho career Navy man. I had only met him a couple of times as he lived in Virginia and we were in Northern Kentucky but he always called my mother on birthdays and holidays. Looking back, I wonder what he must have thought of me. My dad and I would go to visit him one last time in 1982 when I won a trip for two to Williamsburg, VA on a game show.

My dad was an early addict for the then-new Ohio Lottery. Over the years, he would win a few dollars here and there and once actually won a thousand dollars on a scratch-off ticket! The most popular birthday present I ever got him was 100 scratch-off tickets wrapped in a tie box. Took him weeks to go through them all and he only won seventeen dollars but he loved every minute of it.

Exactly one year from this date--on February 12th, 1977, a young starlet named Christa Helm would be murdered in California. I wouldn't hear about it for nearly three decades but it would have a major effect on my life. See my other blogs for details.

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