By Mel McConaghy
I like watching when teenagers fall in love.
The other day I saw two teenage boys walking with a couple of young girls. I could tell with a glance that the glazed looks on those boys faces were because they’d just discovered girls.
The girls were not the broom sticks they’d been not two weeks ago, or so it seemed to them. They were suddenly lovely and shapely, and stirred up foreign feelings within boys starting to burst into early manhood. The boys were experiencing what happens when teenagers fall in love. I don’t imagine things have changed since mankind was living in caves, and they certainly haven’t since I was that age in the late 1940’s. I can remember when I had not yet crossed over into that magical age, and a bunch of us guys were standing at the corner of Third Avenue and George Street. Like all boys our age, we were rough-housing and yapping loudly when we spotted a group of blossoming feminine flowers strolling by.
Their freshly styled hair bounced on necks, as recent budding figures showed under fuzzy angora sweaters. The crinoline slips, under full knee length skirts, whispered as they rubbed against legs, legs that ended in cute white bobby socks and saddle shoes. The scent of violets and roses filled the air, and like an invisible lasso, captured the hearts of the boys, reducing them to putty to later be molded into whatever the girls desired. The younger boys, like me, who had not yet been subjected to this natural imbalance called adolescence, stood with our mouths ajar as our leaders, our heroes, the tough guys, were lead away with dopey grins plastered on their faces, giggling as if under the spell of an incomprehensible force of when teenagers fall in love.
Little did we realize that one day we’d all be smitten by this mysterious force. These creatures, the very girls who’d been the brunt of our endless harassment, who for years had been teachers’ pets because they always had their homework done, and answered all the oral questions, would one day drive each of us to the very brink of madness. Who knew then that we would soon find ourselves strangely attracted to one of these creatures.
When they smiled, knees got weak and all the smart things about to be said, became incoherent babbling. Boys began worrying about clean ears and smelly breath. Soon, the guys in the gang seemed so immature as the boys followed girls around like lost puppy dogs. None of us suspected that these creatures would end up leading us through our lives, sometimes driving us to greatness, sometimes to destruction, as they clung to their belief that behind every great man, stands a woman. Oddly, none of us considered the fact that behind all the losers, there is a woman too.
My Life Through a Broken Windshield by Mel McConaghy
Mel McConaghy is a retired trucker and author from Prince George, British Columbia. Mel’s tales are his views of life “through a broken windshield”. They are entertaining and humorous in a folksy style.
Visit Mel’s website at www.melmcconaghy.com