OMG! I am going to throw up!

Few people know that for a brief period in my life I was a heavy drinker.  It is one of the things that I did not succeed at very well.  Actually, not at all.  This journey into my past came up this evening when my oldest daughter called to make sure I was safe from the rioters and the coronavirus.  I am not sure just how the subject of drinking came up in the conversation, but it did.  Oh, I know.  We were discussing the riots that are going on because some jerk knelt on a guys neck and killed him.  The fact that he did that was bad enough, but that he did it while in the capacity of law enforcement made it worse.

Debbie and Hammer had started their life together in a volatile relationship since both of them were drinkers.  She was remembering how two policemen had subdued her by "hog tying " her.  They held her spread eagle above the ground and she was pretty much helpless.  No damage to her and no damage to them in that situation.  The point of that being that a person can be neutralized without pain on injury.  That all became a moot point when I explained to her that I had neve been arrested, and so was never "neutralized".  I further explained to her that I was never a rowdy drunk.  My journeys into the bottom of the bottle always resulted in projectile vomiting.  Thanks to this I also did not end up in the wrong bed at the end of the evening.  When the world started spinning, I got sick.  Now, I do not mean kind of sick.  I mean I hit the bed, hung on with both hands and tried to pass out before what ever I had eaten for the previous  weeks came up.  I never made it and I always wound up praying to the porcelain god and I must confess that the cool water splashing my face was a welcome relief.  Men some how did not want to take a chance on me not getting sick, and I respected their wisdom.

I watched my friends as they "had a drink to relax."  Or partied and had a "really good time."  Not me.  Drinking was to get drunk.  Getting drunk, meant getting sick.  There never was any enjoyment in it at all, so I finally just gave it up as a lost cause.  Kenny never drank and the only time there was any alcohol in our house was when Vi and Mel came in the summer.  We would have a tomato beer.  A tomato beer.  Not beers. A tomato beer and usually it was a quart of beer and a can of tomato juice.  Ah, the good old days.

Now I drink water and sometimes tea.  Coffee for breakfast.  Once or twice a year I stop at McDonalds and get a cola of some sort.  Small one.  A guy in New York sent me a bottle of wine many years ago.  It took me 2 years to drink it down about half way and I threw the bottom half away.  Just don't have the taste for it anymore and I sadly fear that a good drunk would probably kill me at my age now!

Well, I guess I am off to bed.  Nice to know my bed is stable and my dreams are forgotten as soon as they happen!  Y'all have a good one.  May your blessings be many and your worries few and may the road rise up to meet you and the wind be always at your back.

Cheers!

Sock hop, Convention Hall, Hutchinson, Kansas , 1957

Back in 1957, a boy walked up to me and asked me "What is your front name? "  I thought that was strange, but I told him "Louella ".  His front name was "Corky."

Oh, to return to that year!  I was 16 years old.  American Bandstand was the goal of everyone of us little teeny boppers back then.  The most important item of attire back then was a clean pair of bobbi sox, a full skirt and crinoline petticoats.  My dancing partner was Corky Dipman and we won every time we danced.  I loved Corky with my whole heart and had I died in my 16th year, I would have left behind the perfect world.  The highlight of that summer was when Corky took me to Wichita to Joyland amusement park.  The fact that we rode so many rides that I ended up barfing from the top of the Roundup, was not enough to dim the memory of that day.  The fact that we skipped school to go and were the only ones there made it even more wonderful.

I went back to Wichita many years later and found Joyland abandoned and rusting.  The carousel  horses were gone from the Merry Go Round,  and the tracks for the Roller Coaster were rusted and twisted.  Tumble weeds grew where our feet had walked.  I could still hear the laughter and see Corky smile.  Ah, the days of sand and shovels!

I think he was my first boyfriend and I do not know why we broke up.  I think he actually started going with a girl who had more to offer then flying feet.  I think I may have become interested in home brew that my new friend LaVeta had to offer.  And she knew lots of boys from Sterling, Kansas and they were not jocks.  I never much liked the sports scene and the boys with the letter jackets even back then.  I did like the home brew and the cigarettes, though.

Shorthand was my favorite subject in school.  I envisioned myself being a secretary and I loved the shorthand tablets.  What I liked best was the size and that the back cardboard cover had all the shorthand symbols printed for me just in case I forgot.  I still have that kind of tablet for notes, but they no longer contain the shorthand symbols and that is kind of sad.  I never did master the typewriter.  One girl in class could actually type over 90 (?) wpm.  That means "words per minute."  I think 24 was the best I could do.  Sadly, to be a secretary in any place that mattered, one had to be proficient in both typing and shorthand.  Alas!

Sadly, school held little fascination for me and I envisioned a life full of rainbows and butterflies.  Well, you see how that turned out, don't you?  I started my restaurant career with my hands buried in a sink full of dirty dishes.  I dreamed then of being a waitress.  When I moved up the chain to waitress, I dreamed of being the cook.  I finally became the cook.  And the baker and cake decorator. Now I am a seamstress!  Go figure!

But, as I look back on my life, it was good.  It was all good.  Even the bad parts were good.  My name went from Louella Beth to Lou Mercer.

My oldest daughter always said "What don't kill you, will make you strong."  Lot of wisdom in that girl.  Maybe I never made it to American Bandstand with Dick Clark, but I made it this far in life and that right there is about the best I can hope for.  I figure American Bandstand made it a lot of years without me for a reason.

I think God had other plans for this little girl.  Not real sure what they were, but here's hoping I did whatever I was put here to do.  If not, I hope I get it done pretty damn quick!