Girl #1

Before I get to the topic at hand I just remembered an amusing (to me) incident that happened around the same time:

Shortly after we moved to the house in Argyle, Bernie Baker (the amazing jazz/classical guitarist we knew from Tyler) came to visit and brought us a bottle of "sparkling wine"... After his initial attempts to open the bottle by gently nudging the plastic stopper failed, he gradually applied more and more force until he was yanking and twisting on it with all his might - the freaking thing just would not budge... That is - until he decided to check for instructions on the stopper and pointed it at his face. That's when "cartoon physics" took effect... Bernie wasn't even touching the stopper when it blew with such force that it bounced off his forehead, the ceiling and and a wall before coming to rest on the kitchen floor... He was standing there - stunned, confused and bleeding profusely (he had to go get stitches) and I could not stop laughing... It was just such a "Wile E. Coyote" moment - as if the bottle was made by "Acme" and the fine print on the label said "open by pointing at face" :-) ... I don't think he ever forgave me for that one.

Now - on to the topic at hand:

As I mentioned a few posts ago, there were a number of girls in music group at the First Baptist church in Argyle back in 1971... At first I thought it was odd that none of the guys dated any of them. I later realized it was because of how close knit the girls were - getting too close meant becoming entangled in an incomprehensible web of emotions and drama. It was too much of a hassle... But I'm getting ahead of myself :-)

Sidebar... (I'm going to get myself in trouble for this but that's never stopped me before):
I've got absolutely nothing against "petite" women. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I'm attracted to all types... It's just that (for example) if I saw a bunch of cheerleaders in a pyramid formation I'd probably be most attracted to the one at the bottom... You know - the one that can support the load without collapsing... The one with bone structure and muscle mass... The one you could envision working at a construction site. Kind of the way female gymnasts look after they go through puberty (only taller)... I'm not talking about overweight - or buxom - just "substantial". (Seems like there should be a more concise term... Maybe Amazon???)
Now - I honestly have no clue why I find that so appealing. I just do... Probably for the same reason that I'd rather own an old school muscle car than a Ferrari... It's not that I don't find Ferraris attractive. (I even lust after them sometimes)... I'd just rather have a car I can drive the hell out of without worrying about ultra-expensive maintenance and constant breakdowns. (Of course, I've never driven a Ferrari - so who knows?) ... And having taken the analogy a bit too far I'll stop there :-)

As I entered the church that first Wednesday evening I was immediately attracted to one of the Beckys (for the reason stated above). She had just turned 16 and had that "southern country girl" vibe going... But she apparently wasn't interested in me... Yes - she uttered those seven deadly words that every guy dreads: "I only like you as a friend".

Here's a few memories:
I probably shouldn't mention this but I will anyway: In the 6 month period after I moved to Argyle Becky "matured" considerably. (Like from a B to a D). It probably wouldn't have been quite so noticeable if the physical change hadn't been accompanied by a change in demeanor and choice of clothing... It was a frequent topic of conversation among both the guys and girls - although for different reasons :-)
Next: Shortly after she got her driver's license she borrowed her brother's new Ford LTD for a trip to Denton. It was a rainy day and on the way back to Argyle she tried to pass another vehicle, hydroplaned and spun off the road through a barbed wire fence (thus discovering why the other driver had slowed down). If that wasn't bad enough, the woman driving the other car threatened to sue Becky claiming a dislodged piece of trim from the LTD had scratched her paint.
Becky was a total basket case afterward. She wouldn't even attempt to drive... I once made the mistake of giving her a ride... I didn't mind the "back seat driving" as much as the blood curdling scream whenever you drifted ever so slightly from the center of your lane. It was way beyond annoying :-)

Finally (and I still feel bad about this):

In 1976 (when I was in the Air Force and recently married) I was returning home from an extended trip to the east coast and had to change planes in DFW (Dallas/Fort Worth). The previous flight had been delayed out of Boston and the next flight was in a different terminal so I barely had time to make the connection. And to make matters worse I had to go through security again. As I hurriedly tossed my bag onto the conveyor I heard the attendant say "Peter - you old ass - what the heck are you up to?" I looked up - and it was Becky...
I didn't have time to say anything more than "Hi" and "Bye" before running off to board the next flight... So (of course) I spent the rest of the trip back to Sacramento thinking about Becky. (Freaking OCD...) And apparently, upon finally arriving home to be reunited with my wife after a six week trip, all I did for the rest of the evening was talk about Becky - Becky - Becky... Seriously - who knew wives were that sensitive about other women???

Yes - I was that clueless... And (even 35 years later) Debbie is still that mad :-)