Memories: Kindergarten to AB

If, like me, you do not believe in the immortality of the soul, then the only “soul” we really have is our existence in the memories of others and our own store of memories.

Some of my earliest:

Coming home from kindergarten and my mom has prepared me a hot meal of hamburger, mashed potatoes and corn. It filled my tummy and filled me with love. Being sent to Shenis’ Grocery to buy a loaf of Wonder Bread and collecting the decals of the Howdy Doody characters. (Actual TV character name. In those innocent times, no snickers!)

On a hot summer day, reaching in to an ice filled cooler, at the luncheonette, to pull out an ice cold Coke, served in a paper cup with crushed ice. Better yet, my zeydie (Yiddish for grandfather) giving me a quarter to rush across to the luncheonette to purchase a malted milk. A rich concoction nothing like the McDonald’s thick shake which has replaced it.

Learning about gee-whiz robots and computers from the comic strips.

Skipping ahead a little bit to the first throes of puberty. My eyes adored her. AB that is. She was a neighbor girl with a turned up nose, fair skin and long blond curls. Even before I was old enough to appreciate feminine beauty, she was the talk of the neighborhood. She exhibited an early talent for dance and went on to be a professional. At an early stage, still a child, she appeared on TV on the Jackie Gleason show, in the old black and white days. Her moment to “strut on stage.” A slide down a playground slide in some child’s holiday pageant that I can’t remember. AB was a big part of the reason that I finally decided that girls were not icky and might be nice to be around.

She seemed to be nice to me. Despite her “neighborhood renown” she approached me before I approached her. But, I remained shy and stand-offish. Also, JK a “rock” got interested and began to woo her. For those not up on 50’s slang, that meant a tough, a guy with slicked back hair and a cigarette pack in his rolled up sleeve. A dangerous dude. So most guys stayed away. I don’t know what happened to JK, but AB had ambitions to be a Rockette at Radio City Music Hall. Too short though. But, she did become part of a troupe that also was in Radio City shows.

My last meeting with her was on a bus from the Flushing subway station to my parents’ house, where I still lived. We were both in our very late teens. I was still in school. It was the years of the Viet-Nam war and she had toured the country as part of a dance troupe entertaining the troops. We chatted a bit. Then, she excused herself and got off the bus. Somewhat prematurely I thought. Also, as the bus pulled away she seemed to laugh a bit. Had I gazed too deeply into her brown green eyes, said something wrong or was I just imagining her avoidance. I will never know. That was the last I saw of her.

More later, perhaps.