August of Past, A Tale of Growing Up (431 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 1.9 on 15 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by calbearspolo (View user info) at 2006-08-23 19:12:14 EDT
It was an unusually hot evening for my home town. You can typically count on one hand the number of days, over the course of the entire summer, that get into the triple digits--that afternoon had been one of them. You kept hoping that, at any minute, the rising hot air would crest just enough to sneak over the Oakland Hills and mix with the cool ocean air, allowing the rushing fog to come and smother the town. Then, the temperature would drop enough to blanket the city in a little comfort.
It was the kind of afternoon where the sun actually looks bigger in the sky than normal. The shadows it casts on sticky, sweltering pavement look gray instead of their normal black. You'd swear it was 10 degrees hotter in the direct path of those torturous rays that reach out and slap your naked skin. Seat belt buckles would sear into your flesh if you left your car exposed and got back in.
I was driving in my beat-up '72 Bavaria. With its windows rolled all the way down to their stops, the lack of an air conditioning meant that I had to drive as fast as possible to get enough air circulating to stay even moderately cool. I drummed my fingers on the large steering wheel, wrapped with a synthetic leather cover, keeping time with the Steve Miller song on the mix I had made, blasting through the stereo.
The car was old, no question, but it had enough muscle to remain fun to drive in a time when your wheels were a status symbol to all the other 16 year-olds. Mine had peeling baby-blue paint, a sun roof, and the 70s after-market hemp-weave looking floor mats to accent its 300 hp engine. The engine was powerful, built before the economy engine styles of the later 2002 series; it had good umph for the size car. The 4 speed transmission meant that I could get up to 50 mph before shifting to third, too, something that my friends all thought was really funny when we would ROAR past other cars up the on-ramp. Oh yeah, it could comfortably fit 6 people in the interior and 3 in the truck, a fact that was most useful when we tried it out at the local drive in by sneaking more people in to watch some awful B horror flick.
In our free time, my friends and I used to drive around, often in my car, looking for something fun to do to pass the time between work, practice, or curfew. Some days it was Frisbee golf at the local course, but we never all had out own Frisbees and sharing one disc between four guys got tiresome after a while. Occasionally we'd head inland to miniature golf, laughing and terrorizing the small children who would stand with their mouths agape a the teenagers dry-humping the dinosaur on hole 14. If it was late enough in the day, we would pay the guy at the local 76 gas station for a huge brick of ice, then find the tallest grass hill we could sneak onto and slide down on the ice time and time again. This was the most frequent suggestion, but usually brought with it the cops from the local force when we got too loud. Neighbors could be such a pain. They were really good guys, and we all had our whole lives in front of us to be goof-balls and laugh with each other.
On days like today, we would typically meet at a local place and just wait for our brains to melt out of our skulls, trying to slow the process by giving ourselves brain-freezes with slurpees from 7-11. It was too hot to do anything normal, so we would find a shady tree patch and just talk, trying our best to make the others laugh. It was the one commodity that we all shared, and the truest test of your value to the group--how funny could you be in a time of boredom. Occasionally we would talk of women, but usually only to brag about how big their boobs were, and that maybe we got to see them uncovered at some party at that house over near the golf course last weekend. "Dude, they were amazing!" was a common phrase, as was "liar" followed by hearty laughter. I was always too timid to talk women, having no real experience, but I had my particular interest and would make them suffer as they tried to guess who it was.
So, late that hot August afternoon, as I cruised the tree-lined streets, howling out the off-key lyrics insisting on my status as a "gangster of love" named Maurice, I couldn't help but smile. I was sweating slightly, and my shaggy dark hair was being tussled by the wind. I had just finished practice, so the slight bleach smell from the chlorinated water wafted around me like bees around a hive. There would be no shady chuckle session with the guys today, I was off to see a girl. We were going to get popsicles.
User Reviews
Submitted by calbearspolo (user info) at 2006-08-26 18:27:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Bubba, I was 16 in 1996, when this particualr memory took place. It's why my '72 Bavaria was so beat up.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-24 13:19:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
FAGS BELOW
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-24 07:45:02 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2006-08-23 23:20:54 (#)
Ranking: 2
Bubba you're the only person I know of who gets bent out of shape over ratings left on other people's posts. It's adorable.
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Izzat so? Maybe I should write "fag below," or call others sycophants because they
+2 someone. I am not the only one, I just detest the chickenshits of the world who
run others down from the vantage point of anonymity.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-08-24 09:08:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-24 07:45:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2006-08-23 23:20:54 (#)
Ranking: 2
Bubba you're the only person I know of who gets bent out of shape over ratings left on other people's posts. It's adorable.
______________________
Izzat so? Maybe I should write "fag below," or call others sycophants because they
+2 someone. I am not the only one, I just detest the chickenshits of the world who
run others down from the vantage point of anonymity.
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2006-08-23 23:20:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Bubba you're the only person I know of who gets bent out of shape over ratings left on other people's posts. It's adorable.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:50:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by KindaNews (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:10:27 (#)
Ranking: 1
Nice.
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There he goes again, being a condescending asshole who cannot write, so he
must destroy. Get a fucking clue, Kinda \Dipshit. STOP!!!
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:30:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
For some reason, the first line got me thinking about the line "The night was moist."
The rest, thankfully, did not. Twas good.
+2 to whoever reviews with where that line's from.
Submitted by extacy_red (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:20:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
word.
Submitted by Sockster (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:19:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent.
Submitted by KindaNews (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:10:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Nice.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-23 21:05:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
1. Assumes this is true and accurate.
2. Pounds calculator keys furiously.
3. Concludes that if 16 year-old had a '72 vehicle that was new, he was born in
1956.
4. Yer fuckin' old!!
5. Remembers that in 1972 I was 23.
6. Shuts the fuck up.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2006-08-23 19:24:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Damn you for making me think of my old Camaro.
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2006-08-23 19:22:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
My high-school car was a '72 Mustang Grande. I recall one August evening... who cares. +2 for the memory.
Submitted by calbearspolo (user info) at 2006-08-23 19:16:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-23 19:14:45 (#)
Ranking: 2
auto +2 for the Bavarian Bathtub
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Holy crap, I never heard it called that, but that is a PERFECT name for it.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-23 19:14:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
auto +2 for the Bavarian Bathtub