Thirty-nine years ago tonight, Muffin and I had our first date. We met on the dorm lawn as I was moving in for my sophomore year at dear old Texas Tech. He was with two friends, one with whom I was supposed to have had a blind date. The blind date fell through, but he came to meet me just before he left town to return to Navy duty, bringing two of his childhood friends along. Enter Muffin, one of said friends. Half an hour after they left, Muffin called to ask me out. “Which one are you?” is what I was thinking. But I accepted and we agreed to go to a university dance the following weekend. The big band playing for the dance was, this is very painful to remember, Strawberry Alarm Clock. You must Google that one to believe it. Anyway, he remembers every little detail of the night and I confess that I do not. I was in my do-not-try-to get-near-to-me-I-have-been-greatly-wounded-by-a-guy mode for about, oh, three years.
McCousins at Thanksgiving
2 years ago