Don't Let the Hagarazzi Get You Down!

Here I sit at my computer on a lonely Saturday night. There's sooo much hagarazzi drama in my life, the last thing I want to do is go out and attract more! And I sure as shit don't want to let any inside, so I sit alone...but I'm perfectly fine with this. I find myself quite entertaining.

So, I got the spring fever for cleaning (finally!) and I tore it up today. I cleaned out the fridge, pulled everything out, washed the sides and tore out the crisper drawers and washed them..it was quite fun! My granny used to say that there's no other therapy better than cleaning out the fridge..makes you forget all about your problems and works out some frustration in the process. Of course, she was a religious zealot that also said wearing red made you a whore and that all queers would burn in hell...which one you wanna believe?? I'll stick with cleaning out the fridge and saving a shrink bill!

Maybe this is what is making me feel so nostalgic? With the way the world is now, the high raising gas prices, war, yumyum dealers and such, it really makes me want to go back to my youth. So, with a few puffs of my magic pipe and an ELO cd, I'm back in my youth! Wanna go back there with me?

I'm 12 years old again...its summer! The neighborhood kids are coming over and mom is making grape kool-aid. The sun is shining brightly and no one is worried about SVRU-VHS-DVD rays or whatever! You just want a better tan than the coolest kid at school, ya know, the one you secretly lust after cause he has got the best complection on earth and fluffy blonde hair and cute freckles around his nose and cheeks. Mmmmm. Yes, I was a gay kid and this is gonna be one of them kind of stories!

So, I begged mom to let me turn the stereo on and put the speakers in the window and, of course, she said yes (anything to start trouble with the cranky old people next door). So, I turn on WLS from Chicago, the best radio station in the world! Of course mom also gets to monitor the volume so there won't be any earth-shattering going on but that is ok. The kids are coming over to my house, this makes me the cool kid for the moment and I had so few of those moments...sniff sniff. I'm just so glad that I had mom match my tube socks with my outfit this morning.

So, the music is going, the wind is blowing very gently and the sun is shining brightly in the sky. Mom has the kool-aid ready and even has some oreos too. Soon, the kids are showing up and laughter fills the yard. Donna Summer starts singing about some cake she left out in the park in the rain and all the kids present start bustin' a move. Of course, we didn't call it bustin' a move back then, it was doin' the travolta, k...as in John in Saturday Night Fever. Then the Fifth Dimension starts singing about the age of Aquarius and letting some sun shine in and we break into groups and join hands and sway with the music and twirl about...until someone giggles. Then we fall apart into massive bouts of laughter. Making fun of hippies in the late seventies was the 'cool' thing to do! Seriously, I'm not makin' this shit up!

The announcer comes on after the song telling us its time for a commercial break and that Danny and Sandy are coming up after the break. Gasps can be heard across the yard. DANNY and SANDY are coming up after the break! Fuck! Kool-Aid gets gulped down, Oreos are being devored like there's no tomorrow and several kids run to the bathroom. The chubby girl doesn't make it in time and she starts crying and stomps home. We know she'll be fine. She does this all the time and in 5 minutes she will be back with us and all giggly and happy to be with friends that won't judge her for being a little pissy missy.

The wait is finally over, the announcers voice comes back on and kids are scrambling to make it back from the potty. A hush comes over the crowd. No one breathes. Then it happens! Danny and Sandy from Grease...Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta???? ring any bells people?? start to sing about summer nights and having a blast. Its the closest thing a twelve year old gets to an orgasm. Boys moan and girls sigh. Some wishing that John Travolta is gazing into our eyes and holding our hands and the others are wanting to french kiss Olivia Newton-John. I have to admit both are appealing to me, as odd as that sounds.

Then, in just a few short minutes, our heavenly bliss is over. More sighs, more oreos devoured and mom brings out the chips to comfort us. It does the trick, Sterzling's can cure anything! We don't worry about cholestoral or arteries hardening but we do worry about pimples. Several chips are dropped back into the bag and a few of us brush our hands together ridding ourselves of our guilty conscience and, of course, our hands of salt and oil. The afternoon is turning out swell. Everyone is having a blast, the music is great, the snacks are great and then someone suggests a riveting game of kick-the-can!

Kick-the-can is the best poor kids game around! EVERYONE has a can, we don't know what cell phones are and the only video game anyone has can only be played with two people at a time and its only in black and white so its really not fun unless its winter time.

Kids scramble to go ask mom if its ok to be late cause kick-the-can can go all night long! And who are we kidding, we aren't really asking permission, we're just telling mom not to start freaking out and calling all the other moms in the neighborhood to see where we are...like duh! (Wait, that was the eighties..sorry!)..but what we are really doing is grabbing our best and fastest running shoes (Nike hadn't been invented yet! OK?)!

The next few hours, kids are running and screaming all over the neighborhood. Cans are being demolished and laughter is heard for miles! No one's thinking about a crazy child snatching molester/killer or whatever. Charlie Manson is the only psycho we know. We can't really 'talk' about Mr. Manson cause its like saying a bad word or something but he's the baddest person on the face of the earth but it has something to do with killing babies and eating them or eating girls or stabbing someone..something really bad and Tommy's mom has the movie on Laserdisc..not that he's seen it, he just likes bragging about it to everyone..he thinks it makes him the 'cool' kid for the moment.

The sun starts fading and the bugs start to come out. First the misskitters, then the lightning bugs...once the lightning bugs start flashing, it's time to go back home. One last lame kick of some poor can, some hugs are exchanged..the chubby girl starts to cry again and her neighbor puts her arm around chubby girls shoulders and gives her a hug and they walk off together in the sunset (future lesbians I'm sure.) Goodnites are hollered for several minutes..kinda like in the Waltons..nite Johnboy, nite Lizabeth. Nite pa.

Its such a sad moment, but hey, dawn is just 12 hours away! Just enough time to practice some dance moves in private and secretly sing along to Hopelessly Devoted To You by Sandy, aka ONJ. Take a bath. Sleep. And then dream about being the 'cool' kid for the day and how the game of kick-the-can was the best ever cause me and Tommy (the coolest kid ever!) picked the same hiding spot behind old Mrs. Johnson's garage and our arms brushed up against each other while we peered around the corner.

As we stood there, waiting for just the right opportunity to make a mad dash for that can, I could catch a whiff of his scent..puberty's starting and us boys start to stink when we sweat..mmmm. Then Tommy touches my arm with his sweaty hand and nods his head towards the can...he makes a mad dash for the can but Becky is 'it' and she sneaks in from the left and jumps that can and yells "Tommy" as loud as she can. The bitch. She has her eyes set on him and I just know it! She's thinks she's the best at kick-the-can but sometimes I can outsmart her and this is gonna be one of those times!

The bitch has got to go down. Tommy is mine! Its my dream dammit!. I wait. My heart is pulsing, my lips are dry and I'm so nervous because I can't blow it! Tommy is out and I have to save him! I seize the perfect opportunity and run as fast as I can to that fuckin' can..and then I kick with all the force I can muster and send that can hurlin' clear to Chicago!

Of course, I lose my balance and fall on my ass and kids begin to laugh but then Tommy comes over and holds out his hand and I place my hand in his and he lifts me to my feet. He pats me on the shoulder and says 'good job'. I blush. Then I tackle him and kiss every inch of him...somethings wrong...why am I cold in July at night? Why is everything wet??? Oh shit..another wet dream about Tommy!

fuck

oh well, life goes on. Note to self: Maybe they really mean it when they stamp "Best If Used Before xx/xx/xx/" dates on yogurt?????