Chapter 5, First Fight, First Kiss

From Del Paso Heights in North Sacramento, we moved back to town near the intersection of 23rd Street, and 22nd Avenue. I attended “San Joaquin Jr. High School (at the same time as Sam Elliot who played Virgil Earp in the movie "Tombstone") and was immediately set upon by the school bully. I didn’t have my friend Richard around to protect me anymore so I was on my own. It was at this time that I broke my vow to never get into physical altercations. He was a very big boy and very stocky, and we had “Printing” class together. He was on me every day, and I went through much soul searching before I decided that I had had enough and summoned enough courage to confront him. I waited for my nemesis one day just outside the classroom and when he emerged, I gave him a slight push to get him in position and he almost started crying.  Much to my dismay and delight, the bully declined my invitation to “settle things” and I never had any trouble with him after that, nor anyone else either.  So, my first fight wasn't really much of a fight after all.

It was during this time that I was placed in a special class for speech therapy. Apparently, because of my mother and our British background, I had never learned to pronounce my “R’s.” A few weeks of special attention, and they had me back on course and I was released. At one time during the year, I was obliged to give an oral report in one of my classes. The prospect weighed heavily on me for a long time as the deadline drew nearer and nearer. Finally, there was no further escape. It was the last day and everyone else had completed the task. I drummed up enough nerve to actually stand up and move to the front of the class, but after that I just froze solid. The teacher kept asking me leading question to try and get me to talk, but I would just mumble an incoherent yes or no to all her queries. After an agonizing few minutes, which seemed like hours, the bell rang and I was saved. That humiliating experience left its mark on me and public speaking was something I avoided at all costs. While going to college, I explained to my counselor why I could not take any classes that included public speaking and she sent me to a therapist. It didn’t work. I finally was able to marginally perform when I completed my college education, but it has been and probably will always be a terrifying experience for me.

This was also the location where I got my first kiss. The girl's name was Valerie S., and she lived a couple of houses down from us. They were an Italian family and I’m pretty sure they were devout Catholics, because I remember her brother spitting out food at our dinner table when he realized it was Friday and he was not supposed to eat meat. What an idiot! One summer evening we were playing hide and seek and Valerie and I ended up in the bushes in William Land Park, a few blocks from our homes. It happened quickly, and when it was over I think Valerie thought it meant we were forever linked. I tried nicely to dissuade her, but nothing seemed to work. Eventually, Valerie’s mother had a talk with my mother because I had hurt Valerie’s feelings by spurning her continued advances.

My dad bought our first new car at this location.  It was a mustard yellow 1957 Dodge, and it didn't have a radio.  I remember thinking at the time, "what kind of idiot would pay all that money for a new car and not pay the few extra pennies to get a radio in it"?  It didn't matter much anyway, because it was repossessed even before the "new car smell" had faded away.  They say, the fastest way to get back on your feet is to miss a few car payments, and they were right!

My dad was a plumber, and he had a 1952 Dodge 2-1/2 ton truck that he used in his business.  These were the days of galvanized water pipes and cast iron with lead joints; there was nothing lightweight about the plumbing trade.  With no machines, every piece of pipe had to be cut and threaded by hand.  Guess who's job that became.  Our dad made either me or my brother go to work with him on weekends.  Upon arrival at the job site, the first things I had to do was "fire up" the lead pot and set up one of those infernal three legged pipe vices.  I know many of you have seen these tripod things that have a propensity to pinch and even remove fingers if you're not careful.  God I hated that damn thing.  

My brother and I rode our bicycles to school, and always made a contest out of it.  We would race the last few blocks to see who could get through the gate first.  On one particular day, we were neck and neck and approaching the "single man" gate at a rapid speed.  Neither one of us would give an inch, and we both ended up at the gate at the same time.  Our bicycles wedged together and stopped cold and we both sailed over the handlebars and landed a few feet away on the ground.  Luckily, neither one of us was seriously hurt.

Next: Moving, Moving, Moving