Where I Came From - 08 Virginia

I resolved to go out New Years Eve. Where to go? I have always loved music--'Holiday for Strings', 'Canadian Sunset', 'Great Gate of Kiev', 'Black Coffee', Patti Page, Thelonious Monk, Leadbelly, and much more. My favorite AM stations in 1960 were KFWB and KRLA, but my car radio had more buttons. My favorite morning commutes to Skid Row were sunny mornings when some station played Miss Peggy Lee singing 'Fever'. I could not dance to that. At home I listened to FM--jazz, folk, and Latin jazz. It must have been the Latin jazz station that advertised New Years Eve at the Palladian.
I He knew I owed it to his family to be with them at the Rose Parade. I hated to strike out on my own, after all they had done for me. Still I felt I needed to go.

I climbed into my Ford. The green driver’s door squeaked . . . crawcrunch . . . and I was inside.

Out on the Pasadena Freeway, I flicked an ash from my cigarette out the window. I wondered who I was kidding. How many other guys had expensive dance lessons, support of their fathers, better jobs--how could I leave my family at the parade site so selfishly.

I drove down Hollywood Boulevard and took Vine up to Sunset. I had spent only a small amount of time up here and on the Sunset Strip, as a boy. One night some friends and I had walked down in front of where the shot a famous TV series and hollered at the doorman, “Cookie, Cookie, lend me your comb.”

Tonight was different. I did not want to be a child anymore and I did not know how to be an adult. I had never had the money to frequent the fancy dance halls up here. I would not know anybody here.

The lobby was huge. I tried to find a pillar to hide behind when I saw myself in the mirror. I entered the dance hall and found a seat. I lit up a Winston cigarette and surveyed the floor.

There were so many beautiful women and well-dressed men out there, all more sophisticated than me. When all else failed, I lit another cigarette. It made me think I looked more mature.

Out on the floor I watched the swirling gauzy and satiny dresses that swished around long black pants and spit-shine shoes.

I was ready to go home--ready to go back and spend a cold night at the parade route.

Out there on the floor was a lady who caught my eye. She was not really so beautiful as she was regal. She had a partner and he was so tall he dwarfed her, but he was handsome. Too bad! I would have loved to have a chance to meet her. I watched them dance, wishing it could be me dancing with her. The music stopped and they smiled at each other. It looked as though they planned to see each other again later.

Well Chuck boy, it’s now or never. Go say hello or go home.

The woman found her table and looked out on the floor.

I approached. She did not even notice me. Obviously she was too regal to be bothered with such a child.

My heart soared as I led her out onto the floor. How could such a dignified lady want to dance with such an immature child? I wanted to ask her to think it over, to be sure she knew what she was doing. Surely, it was for just one dance. Still, if I told every lovely lady I danced with to sit down, I would never find a lovely lady.

She did not walk like a high school girl, nor did she walk like a Chicana fish cannery worker. She had a regal gait. Panic overcame me. That last fellow she danced with was sure footed and light on his feet. Maybe she would be put off by my awkwardness.

She wasn’t. She was too busy worrying about what I would think of her height when we got together on the floor.

In high school, I had always danced one dance with a tall Negroid appearing mafioso’s daughter. Wasn’t her name something like Sharon Musalini? I had fantasized about her, but I had never gotten to know her. She had been very tall--maybe six feet. Most, if not all, of Cal’s girlfriends had been short. Virginia’s shoes had high heels, which helped to conceal her stature.

The dance, what was the dance, nobody noticed. It might have been 'Moon Glow', 'Theme from Picnic', or maybe 'Deep Purple'; all that mattered was that we both felt comfortable with it, and we seemed to feel more comfortable than expected with each other.

Suffice it to say I fell hopelessly and desperately in love with Virginia. We seemed made for each other. We read the same books--James Michener. We liked the same music--salsa, rock, and classical. We liked the same movies.