My mother hosted an after-prom breakfast for my sister and her friends. I remember it. I also remember wondering what the big freakin’ deal was about the prom. It was 1973. I wasn’t quite dialed into the prom thing just yet. And when I did become prom age, my peeps and I weren't jonesing for breakfast afterwards. Mainly because our dates were puking Sloe Gin and thinking that they were bleeding internally.
These gals were high school juniors and their fellas were seniors. All three of the girls had been friends since elementary school and remain so today. Everyone in the photo went to different colleges and after the one-year younger girls graduated, three weddings soon occurred Yep, all three married their high school sweethearts. And my mom’s living room décor and the revelers’ prom outfits just scream…1973.
This is my sister and my future brother-in-law. They'd already been dating for almost two years and he was the older brother I never had.He drove a ’69 Camaro with Cragar mags and he taught me how to drink three beers real fast when we would go run errands for my mom...in his Camaro. Of course he knew who sold beers to sixteen year old guys. He knew everything. He was cool as shit. When he hit college and became a KA, his button down shirts and khakis were so heavily starched that I often thought he was in a body cast.Years later he left my pregnant sister and their two toddlers for a slightly younger woman, still tight bodied and sans babies. And a decade later he called my sister, crying. Seems that the tight bodied woman left him for a slightly younger man, still tight bodied and sans babies.
This twin-set of lovebirds remain married today. I saw one of these guys in a meat and three local lunch joint when I was home last week. He looked like shit. Really.
Sometime around a decade after the prom photo was taken, my mom did some early 1980’sliving room remodelling Different curtains and an anything but drastic change in wall color. The sofa was recovered and different color matting shrouded the framed engravings. This is what it looks like today. I’ve smooched on this sofa in both its current but yet again outdated sheathing as well as the original, pre-1983 version. And my ten years younger brother swears he doesn’trecall it. “It” being when he walked in on me and my first girlfriend while we were doing something we ought ’n.
Onward.Looking for something I ought ‘n.