So, for today's blog, I decided to write on the Young Adult portion of my life; question #9 to tell the story of my first date with Randy. Now, if you've read the earlier posts, you already know the story of how we met in October, 1974. Randy, our friend Curt, my Zeta sister Robyn and I had become a pretty constant quartet. But in December, during finals week, Randy informed me that he had heard that Herman's Hermits were going to be performing in Decatur, Illinois the night before I was supposed to go home for Christmas break. Knowing that I had been a fan since "I'm Henry VIII, I Am" was released nearly a decade before, he wanted to take me. How could I refuse?!?!? So excited, I got dressed up (well, as much as a 19-year-old college student in the 70s got dressed up) and Randy picked me up at "the" house.
I was also rather nervous. This was the first time Randy and I were going out alone together and while I had had that moment several weeks before when I KNEW he was the man I was going to marry, I really had NO idea how he felt about me. So away we went in his orange Chevy Vega (named Ruda Vega) to the "club" in downtown Decatur. Except... there was nothing... I mean
N-O-T-H-I-N-G, nothing! As in the "club" (which looked to me like a run-down bar) wasn't even open!
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| 1973 Chevy Vega Very similar to Randy's |
So, he came up with a solution: "Wanna go sleazy bar hoppin'?"
"Sleazy bar hopping?"
"Yeah. Sleazy bar hopping."
"What's that?"
"Well, it's like regular bar hopping, except you go to all the dives, where nobody goes."
Now where on earth he came up with such an idea and how he had any idea where all these "sleazy" bars were, I have no idea. But, what else was I going to do? I was all dressed up, with nowhere else to go and this was my chance to find out if there was anything to the impression I had of a future with this guy.
"Sure. Sleazy bar hopping. Let's go."
And we did. We hit six different bars that night. At the time, beer and wine were legal alcoholic beverages for 19-year-olds and we had our fair share at each of the bars we "hopped" into.
One thing that became obvious as we hit each bar was the same songs playing on the jukebox in each bar. Repeatedly through the night we heard Harry Chapin's "Cat's in the Cradle" and Billy Swan's "I Can Help." I've never been able to listen to either song without thinking of that first date with Randy.
It actually turned out to be a good evening. We got to know each other much better than we'd ever been able to while we were with Curt & Robyn. He talked to me a lot about his dreams for the future. How he had big dreams as an entrepreneur and I really believed him. I could see the excitement in his eyes and hear it in his voice when he talked about the possibility of having his own business, being his own boss and becoming a millionaire. I wasn't as impressed with the millionaire aspect; to me that was a bit of a lofty goal, but I thoroughly believed he had it in him to become a successful entrepreneur. He also spent a good deal of time that evening, looking me right in the eyes and telling me what his wedding would be like and how he was going to buy his bride the most beautiful dress money could buy. And I knew that in that moment he meant it and, looking in his eyes, I totally believed in my heart that he was talking about me. Before the night ended, he had convinced me to come back to Decatur for New Year's Eve. Who knew where that night would end?!?!?
The next morning, I went out to my car with my suitcase in hand to head home to Aurora for Christmas. I knew this was going to be a difficult Christmas. My mother had passed away from cancer nearly four years before and now my father had recently been diagnosed with bone cancer. This would not be a "normal" Christmas since Dad wasn't home, but was living in the home of his fiancee, so she could take care of him in his wheelchair. I was not looking forward to the time at home, especially after having such a fun night with Randy the night before.
After putting my suitcase in the trunk, I went to get into my car and noticed a bag of saltwater taffy on my car seat. It brought a smile to my face as I thought of the night a couple weeks prior when Randy, Curt, Robyn and I had attempted to have an old-fashioned taffy pull at Randy's house. The whole experience was a fiasco except for the laughs we shared and the jolt of electricity shooting up my arms when Randy's and my fingers touched in the sticky, sugary mess as we tried to "pull" the taffy. The smile on his face and the look in his eyes told me that he had felt something too.
Next to the bag of taffy was a simple note, scribbled on a torn piece of notebook paper. It simply said "Come back real soon. Randy" With a smile on my face, I pulled out of the driveway, headed for the highway and as I left town was amazed to hear this song come on the radio:
Happy Birthday, Randy!
