Aug
31
2008
Youth Is Wasted on the Young
42 years ago I fell in love for the first time. Mary was beautiful, if in a somewhat unconventional way. She had dark blond hair to her waist and flirtatious blue eyes. To some, her languid, heavy, West Virginia accent suggested that she was unsophisticated, even slow. To me, it was only charming and, perhaps, evocative of a way of life much different from my urban background. Alright, I admit that her petite curvaceousness appealed to me far more than the fact that she was an honor student and remarkable artist, but at least I noticed and was drawn to her all the more for her intellect and talent.
38 years ago I spoke to Mary one last time.