Wednesday, December 5, 2012
LUCY BURDETTE: I love it when a Jungle Red reader comes up with a great blog topic. Pat is a great friend of the reds and a regular reader--when she suggested the topic of bad boyfriends, I knew it would be a winner. so take it away Pat!
PAT KENNEDY: I got to thinking recently why—when I was a very young woman -- I used to have such duds as boyfriends. Everyone now is riveted by the Paula and Monica femme fatales who are able to seduce leader-of-the-free world types evidently with something as simple as a wink and a grin and toned biceps. How did they learn how to do that? I can only laugh now at my string of totally ridiculous boyfriends.
I fell in love the first time when I was 13. We never actually spoke, but James Dean did ride by my house on a motorcycle every afternoon at 3:30 for an entire month. Our dates were prearranged by my best girlfriend Cynthia who was in love with Rex who went to school with my dreamboat boyfriend. Surely his name alone told me everything. But he wasn’t able to get up the nerve to actually talk to a girl. He could only display his tragic countenance roaring by wearing a black leather jacket.
I graduated to real dates late in high school. There was the red headed charmer who gave me an electric blue bowling ball for Christmas. With Patty embedded in it. And Michael W. who was 6’4” and somewhat shy of 120 pounds. He asked me to call him “Ace” but I couldn’t bear to be seen in public with him with those skinny gangly legs jumping around trying to get my attention. It was so humiliating to be asked to the prom by him. (Sorry, Michael, I’m sure you turned out to be a wonderful husband and father, but you were a freak of nature when you were 15.)
By the time I got to college, things improved somewhat. There was the totally hunky Norman who was so gorgeous that I could hardly breathe when I looked at him. He took me to the airport on our first date! Weeks later he told me in a letter that I reminded him so much of his beloved mother and enclosed a picture of her. To say that she was an Italian mama in an apron, sensible shoes and a steely bun would be dressing her up a bit. “Do you no how much I love you -- just like my mama.” The “no” was what finally did it.
So, dear Reds, were you the perfect Barbie to a string of Kens or did you too struggle to find a subject worthy of being a world-class seductress?
Patricia Kennedy is a marketing consultant for healthcare organizations. She lives in Boston. For 32 years she’s been married to Joe -- the antithesis of a dud-boyfriend -- who has never given her any present related to bowling. For more information on Pat, www.PKCBoston.com.