Mined from the notebooks, November 12, 2017. Posted November 16.
When I was a senior in high school, two freshman girls had obvious crushes on me. (Yes, Uncle Merlin. Palaver, palaver.) Both let me know through friends that if I asked them out, they would say yes. Going out meant going out for ice cream or a soda (our equivalent of going out for coffee) and maybe a movie. That was never going to happen. All we senior guys knew freshman girls were off limits. And I was only seventeen.
When I first met Mrs M in college and decided I would ask her out, I thought she was nineteen. When I found out she was only seventeen, I almost ran screaming into the night. We didn't go out until she'd turned eighteen.
We went out for pizza and a movie. Two movies, actually. A double feature. Casablanca and Play It Again, Sam.
The anniversary of our first date is coming up. Thirty-eight years! December 1, 1979. That's right, the same year thirty-two year old assistant district attorney Roy Moore was pushing himself on a fourteen year old, college kid me thought a seventeen year old was too young to ask out for pizza and a movie.