Sandy Herron was a babe before I even knew what a babe was. But, this post is really not about Sandy - it's about me. One of the most confusing events of the male life is the transition to, and coming out of; puberty. I'm still confused, but that is the topic of perhaps another blog entry!
Now, females just don't know how hard it is to be a male! I think of the song "I'm Eighteen" by Vincent Damon Furnier (better known as Alice Cooper):
Lines form on my face and hands
lines form from the ups and downs
I'm in the middle without any plans
I'm a boy and I'm a man
I'm eighteen and I don't know what I want
eighteen I just don't know what I want
18 I gotta get away I gotta get out of this
place I'll go runnin' in outer space
I got a baby's brain and an old man's heart
took eighteen years to get this far
Don't always know what I'm talkin' about
I'm livin' in the middle of doubt
'cause I'm 18 I get confused every day
eighteen I just don't know what to say
eighteen I gotta get away
Well, preceding that phase comes a change of life for a boy, and even preceding that comes the stage of wonderment. And that's where Sandy comes in. A few days ago I needed to run and errand. I was barefoot and too lazy to put on shoes, so I just hopped in the truck and off I went. The sensation of the ridges on the brake and gas pedals against my bare feet unearthed a memory of Sandy. Sandy's little brother David was my friend. He and I would pal around in the hot southern California summers. One scorching day, Sandy volunteered to take David and I to the beach. Wow! An adventure for two young boys, it must have been the summer of 1966 - 67.
I'm guessing Sandy was about 17-18. The reason I'm guessing that is if my memory serves correct, I think part of her permission to drive to the beach (which was about 1.5 hours from the Mojave desert where we lived) was contingent upon taking little brother and his dorky friend along. David and I were probably about 9-10 years old. Sandy was blond, and pretty. And above everything else:
SHE DROVE BAREFOOT!
Wow, how fascinating - this exotic creature was! I was intrigued. With the precipice of puberty still a short time away, it wasn't a sexual interest, nor even bewilderment that bound me. It was just that she was so daring! I couldn't comprehend how someone so young and pretty could evidence such a haughty disdain for caution. I mean, the consequences could be catastrophic! What if the car broke down? She might actually have to walk on pavement barefoot! And then, that's exactly what she did. The car didn't break down, but we had stopped at some burger joint for lunch. I was mesmerized as she opened her door, and then her bare foot met hot asphalt. My heart stopped as she then shifted her weight, put her other foot down and began to walk. David and I followed in our thongs (now, lest you giggle I'll remind you that language changes over time and the vision you have in your mind has nothing to do with the cheap little rubber flip flops we would wear). She was incredible, she was invulnerable, she lived life on the edge.
Here's my ode to Sandy:
Sandy Herron, memories reach far,
driving barefoot in a now ancient car,a pretty girl, with blond hair fair,
a risk taker, an adventurer who drove with feet bare.
Well, here it is FORTY YEARS later. At the most conservative estimate Sandy is now 56 years old. She may even have grandchildren by now for crying out loud! I imagine the Sandy that lives today is nothing like the Sandy of 1966. I'm sure that she doesn't even remember that day. But I do! I hope you are well and happy Sandy, and I hope that once in a while - you still drive around in your bare feet!
