MEMOIR BY LARRY SCHWIRIAN: AUDREY

AUDREY

By Larry Schwirian

Her name was Audrey,  and she was the new girl in school in the fall of 1952.  She had long, black, wavy hair, big brown eyes, and blemish-free olive skin.  Wearing a sleeveless, bright colored dress, she wasn’t built like Sophia Loren or Gina Lollobridida, but, then, she was only eight years old.  I was instantly smitten, and she hadn’t yet spoken a word or looked my way.

Audrey was anxious to make new friends, and I was anxious to be the first in line.  Soon after, she invited me to have dinner with her and her parents at her home.  One of the most unforgettable experiences of my youth was playing spin-the-bottle with her in her living room while her mother prepared an exotic Italian meal.  I used the word “exotic” because my familiarity with Italian food was limited to spaghetti.  I had no idea what her mother was cooking, but it smelled great, and I wasn’t really there for the dinner anyway, even though I did enjoy the food.  Altogether, it was a very memorable afternoon.  I got my first kiss from Audrey and will never forget the aromas emanating from that kitchen.

My budding romance with Audrey came to an abrupt halt only a few weeks later when my teacher caught in the coat room hiding a love note in Audrey’s coat pocket.  Miss Weigle (which was, of course, pronounced “wiggle” by most) made me stand in front of the class and read the note out loud.  Needless to say, it was an earth-shattering experience for me, and I am sure Audrey was equally embarrassed.  It didn’t kill my ardor for her, but it definitely put a damper on our evolving relationship.  It would be another five years before I had the courage to admit to others that I had romantic feelings for a member of the opposite sex.  In our senior year of high school, she was selected by her peers to be homecoming queen and the most popular female in our class.

I have since learned never to write anything down that I would be embarrassed to have read out loud in front of other people.

BOLLI “Matters” contributor and co-chair of the Writers Guild Larry Schwirian

Architect Larry and his fellow architect wife Caroline live in an historic preservation home in Newton and, together, lead BOLLI courses on architecture.  Larry has been an active participant in  and leader of the Writers Guild special interest group as well as serving on the BOLLI Journal staff.  

 

BOLLI AFTER DARK: Affirmations for Lin-Manuel Miranda

Donna offers something different this month –to which we can all, unfortunately, relate all too well!

AFFIRMATIONS FOR LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA

by Donna Johns

My current theater crush, Lin-Manuel Miranda, wrote a book of affirmations called G’Morning, G’Night. These were based on his twice daily tweets. I decided to have some fun with his work by writing my versions of his tweets, adding a dose of reality.

G’Morning darlings!

The wind blows cold today

So grab your hat and mittens, then

Go outside and PLAY.

 

G’Morning Lin!

It’s so cold my nose started to run and I didn’t have a tissue so I had to use my mitten and now it’s gross and tossed in dirty laundry so I have one cold hand for the next dog walk. Oh, and the dogs love this weather and stop every three steps to sniff the frozen plants and my toes are going numb waiting for them to produce something so I don’t need to mop the floor again. Does this constitute PLAY?

Perhaps PLAY was hauling all my accumulated trash bags down to the dumpster and how the heck does one person accumulate this much trash in two days although one bag contains most of the icky rotten stuff I found in the back of the refrigerator so that’s my bad. I should stop buying the healthy food. I never have to throw out English muffins, cake, cookies or candy. Just brussel sprouts. And kale.

The Weight Watcher lady told me to take a brisk walk every day so I decided to walk to the convenience store to buy milk and I stuck my one mitten-less hand in my pocket and I remembered to bring tissues and I walked as briskly as my bionic knees would allow.

I met a cheerful man with no hat or mittens driving an ancient Lincoln town car, and his co-pilot was a handsome grey pit bull who appeared friendly, but I’ve read those stories in the Enquirer so I merely waved and did not approach.  Milk procured, I discovered that the wind was blowing against me so the tissues were used up, and, yep, I had to use my one good mitten.

Still, Lin, I will call that excursion PLAY because there is no way I’m venturing out of the house again.

 

G’Night darlings!

How lucky are you?

A fireplace, a blanket,

Fluffy socks. Dream warm.

 

G’Night, Lin!

I don’t have a fireplace and the wind is whistling through my un-weatherproofed windows so I turned on the electric heater which looks like a fireplace but the dogs discovered a heat source and laid down in front of it so now they’re toasty and I’m freezing.

I grabbed a blanket but it smelled funky and I’m not sure whether the dogs did something or I spilled milk on it or whatever so I put it in the washer with my dirty mittens and I’m too lazy to go upstairs to look for another blanket so I guess I’ll just be chilly. My socks are not fluffy and they’re upstairs too so I think I’ll pass on that.

I will try to dream warm (whatever that means) and I can’t wait to see tomorrow’s affirmation.

“BOLLI After Dark” feature writer Donna Johns

Donna is a teacher/librarian, writer of unpublished romance novels, sometime director of community theater and BOLLI member. She has two fantastic faux knees which set off the metal detectors at Fenway Park.