MY SISTER WAS AN ONLY CHILD 1956-1959

MY SISTER WAS AN ONLY CHILD
1956-1959
Let’s Get Married - Once
That seemed to be the phrase I used in lieu of let’s go to bed after I got out of high school. Case in point; after I would leave Nancy I would go and either climb in the window of Jo or I would visit the Jane. This one night Namcy saw my car parked at the Jane’s home. When I climbed out of the window there she stood. She called me everything but a white boy, never call, never come by, never think of me you ##@#&#**#.

Well Jane saw an opportunity and morphed into a combo of herself and Jo. What’s a poor boy to do I said “Let’s Get Married”. Now Mom and Dad had gone to a football game in Austin so I fell into their big bed and passed out. The next morning Otis woke me up with, “Miss Jane is calling. “Now, I asked”? She came up the stairs and said “Aren’t we getting married today”. We did with driver’s license I forged on the steps of the Bee County Court House as she was only 16.

When Mom and Dad got back it was a quick call to Cy Cyrus for an annulment. That tool care of Miss Mouth and the US Marine Corps took care of me. From July 29, 1956 to August 13, 1958 I was in the care, custody and control on Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children.

Tattoos and booze and then it was over. No big deal just living in Laguna Beach with a new purple Buick Invicta, booze and loads of beach bunnies. Back to being a prince again.

When I got home from the Marines, Mom in her own fashion, had found the perfect girl for me, Betty, a Mississippi Queen. We had a few dates and then it was time for me to go to Europe. The next thing you know I was on the way to NYC with Mom, Dad, and Angel.

I left on the USS America bound for Bremerhaven, Germany. I went cabin class which meant coat and tie for dinner. I had three roommates but I can’t remember anything about any of them. The trip took five days and I spent almost all that time in the bar. Maybe that’s why I can’t remember any roommates.

Daddy had arranged from me to go to the Opel factory and get a station wagon. Really fun deal. I reverse hitch-hiked all over Europe. You were standing there with your thumb out and I stopped and asked where you were going, “Barcelona, you’d say” I would say gas is probably $40 and we could split it if you want. Away we’d go. Nice chicks, too. Mainly Dutch. When I found out you could get all the hash you wanted in Amsterdam, off to Holland I went. I was in Hog Heaven.

I finally made it to the South of France and stayed in a small pension named La Cigone, the stork The owners, Philippe and Jacqueline Macci took a liking to me and offered me a job as a waiter in the evenings, and I jumped on that like a duck on a bug. The job wasn’t difficult as Jacqueline had the dinners on the blackboard. She’d coach me before dinner time so I could get used to the sounds. Veal was Veaux and so on.

One morning as I was in my surfers and my La Cigone jacket in came two good looking English girls with a Guide Michelin in one hand. That was a book for tourists with various phases to ask directions, order food and more. The blonde says Garcon, donnas moi un vase du vin rouge. Bring me a glass of red wine I did and one for the other lady as well. Merci, said one as I walked back to the bar. A Little while later it was Encore, sil’vous plait Hit me again. After a few more hits their conversation turned to the waiter. They were complaining why they weren’t staying here instead of up the street. That was my queue. I grabbed a new bottle and another glass and sat down at their table. I said,in my best Texas drawl, when are we going to quit talking about it and start getting it on. I’ll help move your things. “You speak English? I said, “They taught it every day back in Texas. They moved to La Cigone. Wow. First time for everything.

I had a great time but not much cash. So, I sent Daddy a telegram saying I lost my ticket and need $397 to leave from Le Haurve. Four days later there was my telegram for $400. A Few weeks later I sent another saying Tourist Class was sold out and an upgrade to Cabin Class was another $450. Four days later there was my cash. The next time I tried it I went to the post office and there was my telegram. I opened it but instead of the money I had requested I had a one word reply, “Swim”. Daddy was a joker at times.

Then one August day I was called to the phone. It was the only call I had ever gotten and I was curious. My curiosity was sated when I heard the sweet, Southern voice. It was Betty and she told me Daddy had a heart attack but was much better. She suggested I come home.

A few weeks later I passed the Statue of Liberty and headed into New York harbor. It took a few hours to get my car off the boat and then I was on the road to Texas. Daddy was playing golf, Betty and I dated a short while but I had been accepted at the University of Miami. I had gotten a new Buick Century convertible. It was fire engine red and we made a good pair, me and that convert. I was gong Mach 2 with my hair on fire as I left for Miami.

I hadn’t gotten to Bay St Louis, Mississippi when I knew I had made a big mistake. I missed the Southern voice. She wasn’t bad to look at, not bad in bed either, for that matter.

The drive from Corpus to Miami took 25 hours. I went thru Orientation without sleep, got my dorm Assignment and moved in. here were four of us R.E..Lee, Marty Fleckman and Charles Dawson.. I remember them well ‘cause we lived together for nine months.

School was boring but right down Dixie HWY was the Campus Canteen or the Can as we called it. It was the watering hole for U of M. I spent more time there than anywhere else. Small wonder my GPA was 2.5. I did 4.0 in high school with no books. But there was no Can in Corpus.

One Friday I fell off my stool and was lying on the floor in some pain. I heard a voice outside the crowd that had formed around me saying “let me through, I’m a nurse”. When she got through, she unzipped my fly. The Can was a place of many talents.

One day someone got the idea of going to Cuba for the weekend. About ten couples of us caravanned down to Key West. There we caught Q Airlines to Jose Marti Airport in Havana. Q Airlines had a fleet of two DC3s that took us the ninety miles to Cuba for the whopping price of $10, one way. My date was a lady known far and wide for her sexually proclivities, the lovely Barbara Dudash.

We got two suites at the Tropicana ($125 each) and headed for the pool. After a bunch of Cuba Libres and some great Cubanos we all decided to nap or what have until dinner at about 9:00pm. We ate in the grill and took cabs to Habana Viejo, old Havana to see some shows. Our driver said the best in town was Superman so that’s where we went. We were about an hour early for the show which gave us tables by the stage. After more Cuba Libres the lights dimmed and the first act came on stage, the Goose Woman. She pranced around and in awhile out came a goose. The Goose Woman had stripped down and was on an inverted bench. The goose mounted here and I don’t know who had the best time.

After the stage was cleared out came the star. He was about 5’4” and had red boots and a silver cape. Out came his co-star and she laid on a sort of couch. He opened his cape and for all the world to see why he was called Superman. His private parts were the size of my forearm and he proceeded to get warmed up he got on top of his co-star and after about ten minutes of moaning and groaning, Barbara jumped up on stage and said I have to have some of that. When she got thru with Superman they could have called him Superboy. Barbara Dudash, what a lady!

Back at school I was having a rough time. It was partly because I was I was drinking and partying so much and partly because I was in engineering school. What a dumb idea! I couldn’t even make a slide rule calculation. I transferred to Business Adminstration, slowed down on the drinking, got my GPA up to a more respectable level and spent more than a few nickels calling Corpus Christi to that sweet talking lady from Okalona.