Listen men,
Singing along to Kenny Chesney and wearing a cowboy hat does not make you a cowboy.
Owning a pickup truck and wearing a cowboy hat does not make you a cowboy.
Knowing a few line dances and wearing a cowboy hat does not make you a cowboy.
Eating beans cooked on a fire at a Great Lakes camping resort and wearing a cowboy hat does not make you a cowboy. Please resist the urge to purchase a cowboy hat and wear it in public unless it is Halloween. The same goes for the snakeskin boots and leather vest. There is a reason why you have to visit specialty stores to acquire these items. They cost a lot of money and should only be used if you spend your days roping steer or if you lived in the Wild West and spend your time robbing trains and gambling in saloons.
Now ladies, don't fall for a man masquerading as a cowboy. They may look kind of sexy, but underneath the hat is most likely a bald head and a "special" sort of brain. I wish somebody had given me that advice before I dated "The Cowboy" for 1 summer and the spent the next 2 years trying to rid myself of him. Stay tuned to hear about this Yee Haw.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Don't get a hickey on a family camping trip.
Don't get a hickey on a family camping trip. This advice seems fairly obvious, but let me paint you a picture...
The year was 1988, and I was about to turn 15. Times were different then. Children were children much longer. I was still spending my summers drinking from garden hoses, picking blackberries and making rainbow chalk drawings on my parents driveway wearing a very modest one piece swim suit. Needless to say, I had never had a boyfriend. The thought made me giggle. The closest thing I had to a beau were the Teen Beat posters of New Kids on the Block and John Stamos hanging on my wall. (Donny was my Crooner of choice) So, when I met "Bingo", I fell hard and fast into the whole summer romance thing that I had heard Richard Marx sing about. (In fact, "Our Song" was Hold onto the Night)
As I mentioned, we were on a family camping trip. An extended family camping trip. I'm talking both sets of grandparents, aunts, uncles, first and second cousins, family friends, and a dog named Tiger (who will become important in the Bingo number two story). At the pool one day, I saw this mint guy (we didn't use the word hottie back in the 80's) checking out my new pink and purple one piece. He introduced himself and we went to the arcade to play pin ball. Incidentally, I got the highest score and it was still on the machine the next year! Totally Rad! He was so impressed, he asked me to meet him in the pavillion that night for BINGO. My very first date!!! I almost threw up from the butterflies!
I could't eat my cheese dog. Didn't touch my mac salad. What was I going to WEAR! I had brought camping clothes for Heaven's sake! I made the best of it and put on my hot pink O.P tshirt and acid washed jeans and curled my bangs up 80's style. (Think of a Standard Poodle...now think bigger) I made my way down to the pavillion and paid my dollar. I picked up 2 BINGO cards and a handful of dried corn to use as markers. There he was folks. Feathered bangs, Bart Simpson Tshirt, smelling like Preffered Stock. (Does anybody remember that ad? Hubba Hubba!) There we sat, brushing fingers, going for 5 in a row, then the postage stamp, and finally, the big one. Full Card. He waited till then to make his move. And what a move it was....Are you ready for this folks? He used his corn to spell out I LOVE YOU. After 8 hours I was positve I loved him too. We left BINGO to go to where all the "couples" went after dark, the basketball court. I made my wish on a shooting star that we would be together all summer. Then the next day, I let him give me a gigantic hickey.
Oops. Nowhere to hide that in a tank top. It was huge. Covering most of one side of my neck. Bingo had big lips. Steven Tyler big. I told him to go hide. I had to face my dad and the other 27 relatives back at the campsites. The rest is a bit fuzzy. I remember crying, claiming I didnt know what he was doing, and my grandmother's gasp of "Tracy!" I was forced to wear my uncle's zip up fleece turtle neck for the rest of the week despite it being August. As punishment, my younger sister and 5 younger cousins were instructed to follow me everywhere. They got quarters for the arcade for doing this. We parted with only that one sweet moment in the pussy willows by the fishing pond. A week later he sent me a love poem and a picture of himself in his new jean jacket. Being 15, and living 2 hours apart made it impossible for us to "Hold on to the nights." That was the only hickey I ever received.
The year was 1988, and I was about to turn 15. Times were different then. Children were children much longer. I was still spending my summers drinking from garden hoses, picking blackberries and making rainbow chalk drawings on my parents driveway wearing a very modest one piece swim suit. Needless to say, I had never had a boyfriend. The thought made me giggle. The closest thing I had to a beau were the Teen Beat posters of New Kids on the Block and John Stamos hanging on my wall. (Donny was my Crooner of choice) So, when I met "Bingo", I fell hard and fast into the whole summer romance thing that I had heard Richard Marx sing about. (In fact, "Our Song" was Hold onto the Night)
As I mentioned, we were on a family camping trip. An extended family camping trip. I'm talking both sets of grandparents, aunts, uncles, first and second cousins, family friends, and a dog named Tiger (who will become important in the Bingo number two story). At the pool one day, I saw this mint guy (we didn't use the word hottie back in the 80's) checking out my new pink and purple one piece. He introduced himself and we went to the arcade to play pin ball. Incidentally, I got the highest score and it was still on the machine the next year! Totally Rad! He was so impressed, he asked me to meet him in the pavillion that night for BINGO. My very first date!!! I almost threw up from the butterflies!
I could't eat my cheese dog. Didn't touch my mac salad. What was I going to WEAR! I had brought camping clothes for Heaven's sake! I made the best of it and put on my hot pink O.P tshirt and acid washed jeans and curled my bangs up 80's style. (Think of a Standard Poodle...now think bigger) I made my way down to the pavillion and paid my dollar. I picked up 2 BINGO cards and a handful of dried corn to use as markers. There he was folks. Feathered bangs, Bart Simpson Tshirt, smelling like Preffered Stock. (Does anybody remember that ad? Hubba Hubba!) There we sat, brushing fingers, going for 5 in a row, then the postage stamp, and finally, the big one. Full Card. He waited till then to make his move. And what a move it was....Are you ready for this folks? He used his corn to spell out I LOVE YOU. After 8 hours I was positve I loved him too. We left BINGO to go to where all the "couples" went after dark, the basketball court. I made my wish on a shooting star that we would be together all summer. Then the next day, I let him give me a gigantic hickey.
Oops. Nowhere to hide that in a tank top. It was huge. Covering most of one side of my neck. Bingo had big lips. Steven Tyler big. I told him to go hide. I had to face my dad and the other 27 relatives back at the campsites. The rest is a bit fuzzy. I remember crying, claiming I didnt know what he was doing, and my grandmother's gasp of "Tracy!" I was forced to wear my uncle's zip up fleece turtle neck for the rest of the week despite it being August. As punishment, my younger sister and 5 younger cousins were instructed to follow me everywhere. They got quarters for the arcade for doing this. We parted with only that one sweet moment in the pussy willows by the fishing pond. A week later he sent me a love poem and a picture of himself in his new jean jacket. Being 15, and living 2 hours apart made it impossible for us to "Hold on to the nights." That was the only hickey I ever received.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)