Songs and Sayings

Well a rare thing happened last night. I actually slept straight through the night- just short of 8 hours. And believe me, at this point in my life, this is truly unheard of. So this morning when I woke up, I luxuriated ( is that a word?) in my bed for awhile. As I laid there enjoying this extravagance some thoughts started flowing. I said to myself, Why not write in your Blog in the morning for a change? And so I shall.
I was thinking about how certain songs and sayings have glued and cemented certain events and people into my memory. For better or for worse whenever I hear a certain song or a certain saying, I remember that time in my life and more importantly the people connected to me at that point in my history. There are so many stories tied to each of these songs or sayings that I would be doing them an injustice by trying to cover them all in one Blog entry. It would be impossible to do it anyway, so I won't even try. Rather, as I recall a particular song or a particular saying I'll share some of the stories that this song or saying brings to mind.
For example, these two songs - Sixteen Candles, and Your Sixteen, Your Beautiful and You're Mine - came out at an ideal point in my life - at the time I was turning sixteen. Now is that perfect or what? How did they know I was celebrating my 16th birthday that year? Even today after 49 years, if I happen to hear the song, Sixteen Candles, I am slow dancing once again with a guy from Brooklyn (not my choice) the night of my Sweet Sixteen party. Right now I can't even remember his name ( I remember it later as I write), but it was my party and I was the guest of honor and I was just coming of age and it was a special night for me. See all the things that one little song can do for you.
I had invited a crowd of people to my Sweet Sixteen birthday party much to my parent's chagrin - Mary, how can we possibly fit all these people in our house?, they say when they hear the number of people I've invited. See, even back then I wasn't as organized or didn't think things through as well as I should have. I guess I just assumed it would all work out somehow. Anyway, my Mom and Dad and I scurry around town looking for a room large enough to hold this number of guests. We traipse through a few bars with rooms for rent in the back only to be turned away when they hear the event is a Sweet Sixteen. Back then we also didn't have catered affairs in fancy hotels when one turned 16. At last, we end up at the YMCA on Jamaica Avenue at the bottom of Snake Hill in the Cypress Hills section of Brooklyn. The room on the second floor of the Y is available the night we need it. The price is bearable, the room is big enough and there is no liquor to worry about. So, my parents rent the room for me, God Bless them. I buy a modest (remember this is 1961)blue dress (pretty color) for the big event and my Mom and I start to plan the food (all homemade - no caterers). The day of the party I go to a hair salon (very rare for me) and have my hair done up in a french twist so I can look old and sophisticated.
--> (What was I thinking!) I even purchase one blond curl and attach it to the front of my own hair. I am in my glory. I remember certain things about that night.
The contingency of guys that came from the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn were a bit older and a bit wilder than the people I typically hung around with. I hear that Williamsburg is quite classy nowadays. But my party took place way before the neighborhood underwent a revival and back then when you heard that someone was from Williamsburg, you knew they were tough. I met this group of older, wilder "men" sometime in my 15th year when James, the Leader of the Pack, happened to be visiting his married sister who lived up the street from my home on Interboro Parkway. My friends and I had taken a walk one day and James and a couple of his buddies were on the lookout (think boring time at married sister's house) and "realed us in". Anyway, I became casually acquainted with this exciting crowd of " older men" and decided to invite them to my Sweet Sixteen party. They showed up in a rather large group (guys like this are typically toughest when in a big crowd), and I became a bit nervous. Although they were initially relatively well-behaved for tough guys, at some point during the evening I realized that they had stashed some beer somewhere accessible and were slowly getting loaded. I can't remember every last detail but I do remember a couple of my friends and I convinced them that this party was way too tame for them and perhaps they would find more excitement elsewhere. So they left early. The only wild thing that I remember happening that night was toilet paper rolls being unrolled into steamers out the windows. But I can't even remember if it was the tough guys that did it. Somehow it doesn't seem like their style. That night I also learned that guys did the choosing and the girls were only given the opportunity to say yes or no. Tony, one of the wild guys from Williamsburg, choose me for his dance partner and "girlfriend" that night and although it was a definite "no" for me, I wasn't given the choice of who to pick in the first place. Why is that? Don't worry, I still had fun anyway and after that night I never had to see Tony again.
Mary Beth