Reminiscing Again, My Teen Years

When people ask I always tell them my growing up years were very much like the old TV show, "Happy Days". When I was teen, the boys wore their hair slicked back into duck tails, Levi's low on their hips, white shirts tucked in, and leather jackets much like Fonz.

We had sock hops and slumber parties that were sometimes raided by boys (or at least attempted raids).

I hung out a lot, especially during the summer with my boy cousins. One was four years older than me, the other two years older. The eldest had a car. I loved my boy cousins even though they loved to scare me when I was younger.

They were quite adventurous. I went abalone fishing with them at the Palos Verdes cliffs. There were no houses there. Climbing down the cliff was scary, but I followed my cousins. I didn't dive for abalone like they did, but I swam in the surf. I doubt they followed any laws about abalone fishing. All I know is when we got home my aunt would fix the abolone and it was wonderful.

A whole bunch of us would go to the beach in the afternoon to swim and build bonfires on the beach when it got dark. Probably the main reason I was asked along is because I provided more girls--my friends.

Sometimes we'd drive up into the mountains at night and park in a turnout, turn on the radio, leave the headlights on and dance. In fact, I learned how to dance with my cousins. We'd practice jitterbugging and got really good at it. Sometimes I took the cousin that was still in high school (but at a different one than mine) to dances
and we'd have a great time.

The oldest cousin joined the Army became a paratrooper in Germany and brought home a bride. The other one joined the Navy and wrote me great letters about his adventures in Japan and the Philippines. I met my husband-to-be on a blind date when I was a senior.

I think the reason my boy cousins came to mind is the eldest one, now 80, came to our recent family reunion.

Though I've been trying to concentrate on plot ideas for my next Tempe mystery, I don't have any control what pops into my mind at night.

Marilyn
http://fictionforyou.com

Comments

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