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Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Ever hear a song that conks ya on your head full of memories?

Driving to the grocery store just now I heard an old tune on my Sirius XM satellite radio that made me almost pull over to the side of the road and think for just the slightest bit of time.

“Primrose lane, life’s a holiday on Primrose Lane, just a holiday on Primrose Lane with yo-u-u-u!

Can’t explain, when were walking down the Primrose lane, even roses bloomin’ in the rain, with yo-u-u-u!”

Go to You Tube and give a listen while you read the rest:

I sat there and thought back to the time that this song had significant meaning to me. Did you ever do that?

At the time I was a 6th grader and on top of the world—at least at Crockett Elementary. That may not be the case anymore—a lot of 6th grades are now in middle schools. I guess that makes the 6th graders just little fish in big ponds—a shame don’t you think (unless you are the 5th grader and king//queen of all you survey.

Mr. Peter Newman's 6th grade classroom

At any rate, there I was on my way to dance class. I had no idea what was waiting on me. I couldn’t dance. My mom hadn’t taught me. I didn’t know my left foot from my right—al right, that my be an exaggeration and a complete stretch of the truth. I wasn’t dumb; but in a lot of ways I was as dumb as a rock.

We unloaded and were ushered inside. Then the meanest man on the face of the earth took over, Manning Smith. He was about to push the limit of my courage, my mind and my existence or so I thought at the time. You remember Manning Smith. He was the center of all our worlds for a year or two at that time in our lives.

Somehow once we were inside all the boys seemed to congregate on the west side of the room and the girls were stationed on the east side. Remember that huge dance floor at the KC Hall? I guess we just naturally gravitated to our positions in life.

We all knew each other but somehow this was a different situation; sorta like a battlefield, don’t ya think? Well, there we stood fearin’ the worst.

I do not recall the exact words, but soon they were uttered and the time had come: “Gentlemen, cross the hall and ask one of the girls to dance, taking her hand and leading her to the center of the floor.”

Now what? Fear struck at my very heart. What would I do? Could I do it? What if I trip? Who would I pick? Who could I pick? What if I ask one and she says NO?

There was a cute redhead that I sorta had a crush on, but I couldn’t ask her; could I? The lump in my throat got to be about the size of a football, maybe worse.

I had to go; all the other guys were headed that direction. Was any of them as afraid as I was? I looked around and couldn’t tell. Every male in the room was shuffling there feet in the same direction as I was; some faster than the others but all headed that direction.

I remember scanning the entire bevy of beauties across the hall and still had not a clue where I should end up. I bet I started six or eight directions, probably all at the same time—how I stayed on my feet I will never know.

Somewhere about 13 and a ¼ inches from the edge of the earth I finally made my decision. I didn’t pick the girl I had the crush on. I instead chose a friend that I had know for the entire time I had been at the knowledgeable institution that we both attended. She also was a redhead; but this one I could talk to and not be afraid. She was just about the easiest person in the world to be with at that point in time in our lives (I know you will agree). She was almost six inches taller than me at the time and I know that must have looked a little odd on the dance floor, but all the girls were taller than me at the time—it was the 6th grade after all. It wasn’t that she was the safe choice. It was all because I knew it was just the right thing to do at the time; even as a 6th grader. I bet I felt like I was Chuck Taylor and had just broke the sound barrier for the first time—I had asked a girl to dance.

I’m not positive that Mr. Smith played “Primrose Lane” as the first song that we would start our two semester trek of learning to dance so as to not embarrass ourselves at our 6th grade graduation dance. But to the best of my memory that song has stuck with me all these years as the one I remember best that was perfect for the exact place and time—we were all walking down a primrose lane. Eventually I would dance with many members of that 6th grade class. After awhile, it wasn’t that hard a task.

I do know that I couldn’t have made a better choice in my 1st partner that warm September evening; thanks Jane Nabors. I never would have made it without you.

“Primrose lane, life’s a holiday on Primrose Lane, just a holiday on Primrose Lane with yo-u-u-u!

Can’t explain, when were walking down the Primrose lane, even roses bloomin’ in the rain, with yo-u-u-u!”

What do you do when you hear a song like this that brings back memories like a 2X4?

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