It was the spring of 1966 and I was struggling. I was in the second semester of my third year of college and I had no idea where I was heading. I was still officially a math major, but I had dropped my lone math course that semester, Probability & Statistics, because I just didn't get it. I was really searching that semester, taking introductory courses in psychology and anthropology and a couple of English courses -- in American Literature and Narrative Writing. I didn't get the literature course, either.
I was a full year away from the life-altering Psychology and Educational Testing course that would steer me on a path toward a career in journalism. but the Narrative Writing course gave me a chance to sharpen my writing skills. I used a couple of classmates as the inspiration for the story I'm offering in this post. Their unabashed public affection for each other was a bit shocking to me at the time and my writing offers a glimpse into what I imagined their relationship to be. I find some of my prose to be cringe-worthy, but not so awfully bad considering these are the musings of a 20-year-old in the mid-1960s. I am surprised that I had the audacity to turn in a handwritten "manuscript" for a college writing course (I owned a typewriter at the time). The notes at the top of this post are from my instructor. I found them extremely valuable and edited my work as per the instructions to create the final draft which is presented here. I'm also attaching copies of the original two pages to show how the work changed. As much as anything else, it shows the value of trusted editors.
So, here it is, an original work from my college years:
A Menagerie of Innocence
By Larry Lehmer
May 18, 1966
I really don’t know why I am telling you all this. All through high school you were sitting there with everyone else, laughing at me behind my back. Oh, I know you didn’t know that I knew, but I heard about it. That was before I really knew what it was all about.
You all thought I was kind of unusual. Just because I didn’t go for the sexiest broads in school and didn’t make it on Senior skip day. You were all too busy with your social life to really find out about things. I knew that after graduation everything would be different. It was.
I don't really know why I chose to go to State, but it was about the best thing I’ve ever done. I went up to State early and took a bunch of entrance tests since I didn’t know what I wanted to take. My Freshman counselor told me I had a talent for writing, so I decided to major in English. He fixed me up in all the Freshman classes, algebra, history, English, Spanish, and introduced me to Creative Writing. That was probably the turning point of my life.
Since my childhood was pretty uneventful, I thought that college would be the same, but it sure was different. There was a lot more to do in college. I mean, more dances and things like that, but that didn’t really matter to me. I was there for an education.
I was really anxious about my first day in college. Boy, was I let down. They were all real dull, except for Creative Writing that is. Mr. O’Keefe, my counselor had warned me that mostly girls took Creative Writing, but I didn’t expect it to be as bad as he had said. I walked into the room and was amazed to find that I was the only male in the whole class. I took a seat near the back of the room, nervously anticipating God-knows-what. Well, just then another guy walked into the room. I don’t hesitate to tell you that my heart skipped a beat just then. He casually sauntered to the back corner and sat by me. This guy really had a walk. You could tell by looking at him that he knew all about college. Overjoyed, I immediately started up a conversation and found that he and I shared common interests. His name was Clarence and he came from a small town about 100 miles east of the University. He, like me, was an English major, but, unlike me, lived in an apartment off-campus. He was really interesting to talk to.
Except for Creative Writing, I would probably never have met Clarence, since it was our only class together. Our acquaintanceship soon blossomed into friendship and we spent many evenings studying together in Clarence’s apartment. After a while, we would stop studying and Clarence would put on some records so he could dance. He used to do the stupidest dances. He would start off real slow, then start dancing faster and faster. Pretty soon he’d be dripping wet from sweat and he’d take off his shirt. Sometimes he got so sweaty he would take off everything but his shorts, and he’d still be dancing. One night, I remember, he wanted me to dance, too, so he wouldn’t feel so alone. I told him I couldn’t dance those fast dances very good, so he said he’d put on some slow songs. We danced awhile, cheek-to-cheek. It sounds kind of funny now, but, when I’m in Clarence’s arms, nothing else seems to matter.
We used to have a lot of fun at Clarence’s place. It was really great to be able to do things like we wanted and not have anyone around to bother us. Besides, I was really getting good at dancing, which kind of surprised me, since I had never danced before. It was kind of funny, because school seemed so unimportant sometimes. Finally Clarence gave up studying altogether. I even felt like it, but since I wanted to be a writer, I forced myself to hit the books. It wasn’t easy.
After the first semester was over, Clarence and I would get together at his apartment, but not for studying, because Clarence flunked out. (The teachers never did understand him.) He knew some guys next door who would buy him beer, whiskey and other stuff. So, instead of just dancing, we would have a little party where we would drink and smoke and mess around. Whenever I would get a little drunk, Clarence would always say things like, “Hey Jim. You’re really gay.” I couldn’t help but laugh when he said things like that. We would dance cheek-to-cheek, and, if I was drunk enough, I would dance the fast dances. I got so I was pretty good at dancing fast, and I even sweat more than Clarence did. We would get all sweaty and then we’d take a shower, together. I always liked to take a shower at Clarence’s because he had the funniest soap I ever [saw]. It was shaped like circus animals – you know elephants, lions, giraffes, etc. I especially liked the giraffes, and Clarence was always teasing me about it. He told me to be careful not to drop it. He was funny that way.
Even though I was his best friend, Clarence wasn’t really satisfied. He wanted to mess around with girls. I told him to go ahead and have a party with girls if he wanted to. I told him I’d be there if he could get the girls. He said OK and said he knew he could get us a couple of broads. He made a hasty phone call and left.
You can imagine how I felt when Clarence left. I looked around the apartment and found his transistor radio. I turned it on but it didn’t work because the batteries were worn out. I got the brilliant idea to run down to the drug store and get some new ones to surprise Clarence. I started into the drug store but stopped in the doorway. There was Clarence – talking to some other guy.
“… and the yellow giraffe really makes me laugh. He holds it real tight because he’s afraid that if he drops it, it’ll break.”
Then they both laughed. They were laughing at me.
I ran out of the drugstore and went to Clarence’s apartment. I smashed his radio into the wall, took the yellow giraffe soap from his shower and took the bus back to campus.
I went to my room and just sat there for what seemed like two hours. Then Clarence came. He said he saw me run out of the drugstore and said that he was sorry. I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t. I opened the door, and hit him in the nose with his damned animal soap. I hit him as hard as I could, but he didn’t even feel it. He had the fattest, gushiest nose I ever saw, and it was bleeding. He didn’t feel it, but he was bleeding. He just stood there laughing as the blood dripped over his thick lips. I asked him what he was laughing about and he pointed to the floor. There was his yellow giraffe lying on the floor. And it wasn’t broken. The neck was bent, but it was still in one piece. I had to laugh at that. We both just stood there laughing until Clarence handed me a box of candy from the drugstore. I opened it and offered him a piece. He ate it while the blood still dripped down his chin. Then we started laughing again. That’s the way it is with Clarence and me. You just can’t leave a guy like that.
From the original:
Author Larry Lehmer's book about Dick Clark and American Bandstand -- Bandstandland: How Dancing Teenagers Took Over America and Dick Clark Took Over Rock & Roll --is available from Sunbury Press. His book about the last tour of Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper and Ritchie Valens -- The Day the Music Died: The Last Tour of Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper and Ritchie Valens -- is available at Amazon.