Diary Friday: “I guess I have this thing for Sting in a sling.”

This mortifying entry is from the summer in between my sophomore and junior year. Frankly, I sound bi-polar. The ending just cracks me up. It is 100% sincere.

August 17
I am SO happy! I’m TOO happy! The past few days have been perfect. Before I fell asleep every night, I would think: Wow – this has been a perfect day.

On Sunday, we went up to Jimmy’s “Country Club”, as we all call it. [Jimmy was a beloved uncle – and also my godfather. Truly, one of the most memorable characters you would ever meet in your life. He had a house, and in the backyard was a pool and a tennis court. The O’Malleys would convene onto this ‘country club’ with regularity during the summer. God bless Uncle Jimmy. He was a true original.]

Gerald is getting married!!! [Gerald is a cousin. He’s a big-wig in the US military with kids who are now adults. So basically what I’m trying to say is I am terribly old.]

Last week was freezing, Diary! [I must proclaim “Diary!” just to affirm how cold it was!] It went all the way down to the 50s, and I was pulling out of my winter drawers turtlenecks and flannel nightgowns! But Sunday turned out to be really warm. It was, of course, another gorgeous relaxing day. Jimmy is such a good host, and we all feel calmed down when we leave. [I miss him.]

Oh yeah, on Saturday I went shopping – got pants, 2 sweaters, sneakers, and a Police album. The Police are my new passion. Give me Sting. [I demand it. Give me Sting.] So anyway, I brought my tape of it, and I lay out in the warm sun on the thick grass – I mean, the grass is like a blanket – and I wrote my story beside the pool. I didn’t feel like going in, but after a while I went to practice my tennis. Jimmy has this machine that is great – it shoots balls at you – so it’s really good for practice. Jimmy showed me the stance, and the grip (I think I’m the only person in the world who loves John McEnroe – I DO!) and I hit back the balls until my elbow hurt – my hands hurt too! They were shaking! I rested for a while, then went back to play tennis.

My dad is so funny. He likes to show off to little kids and get them to laugh. He always goes up on the diving board and demands the attention of all in and around the pool to watch his “Olympic Dive”, or his “Triple Sow-Cow”. Then he’ll sort of fall off into the water with his legs all tangled up, or bow-legged. It’s hilarious. [I love my father.]

After a while, I got hot, and I dove in the cool blue water. It felt so good.

We were all in there for so long – doing “Fame” jumps off the board – and Peter Pan jumps – we had SO MUCH FUN!

Riding home, Jean and I sang camp songs (“Have you seen Jesus, My Lord?”), and then the rest of the time – me and Brendan – who have both been reading All the President’s Men, asked Mum and Dad all sorts of Watergate questions. [Brendan was 13, I was 15, and we’re asking questions about Howard Hunt and Deep Throat. Love it.]

The sky — The sun had just gone down, so behind us there were clouds with the sun right behind it – so the whole cloud glittered and was outlined in silver. The whole sky was clear — sort of a soft lavendar color with long strips of clouds — then there was this wicked vision [The slang of the time! “Wicked” is still used, with regularity, in Rhode Island.] : the sky had turned all shimmering gold and there were dark smoky grey clouds rising above the gold, and clouds below the gold too – so it honestly looked like a lake reflecting the golden sunset – and the clouds looked like the mountains and trees around the lake. Try to imagine it. It was gorgeous!!!

Then on Monday – when I came riding back from my paper route, Karen hailed me from the B’s yard, and I ran over to see her hair cut and after she left, Bobby and I sat on his lawn and talked from 5 to 8:30!!! He is SO wicked! He is the nicest boy, and he is so honest. If you want to talk about a real teen-age boy [Uh … who are you talking to, Sheila? Also – I’m not quite clear what you mean here. YOU are a teenager. Are you a good judge??] — he is it. He’s worried about how he has no muscles. He told me about that. He doesn’t like his skinniness. Really, he doesn’t look bad though. He is really slim. He tells me everything. He wants to be a doctor. He really wants to fit in and be accepted in high school. He feels shy, though. I can tell him anything too. It’s really great!

Mere likes him (she has for 2 years) and I have kept her secret faithfully. But then – I was just lying there – and out of the blue, he asked, “Is it true that Mere liked me?”

I almost had a coronary.

I just went, “Uh … uh …” I was NOT going to say anything. He did all the talking.

I went nuts. I just lay there, heart throbbing, lips shut tight for fear that I might spill something out.

I kept her secret! I didn’t say a word!

But we had a really good time. He is a very different kid, whether he knows it or not. A good person. Mere deserves that. She really does.

Yesterday was a nothing day, and today was a “teenager day”. [I was always on the outside, looking in at my own life, saying: “Wow, I am so acting like a 16 year old right now…”]

I went over to Mere’s, we walked up to the malls – we were like: Let’s totally be teenyboppers today – we had lunch at (where else?) McDonalds – and shopped. We browsed through CWT – I LOVE their clothes. Mere got a shirt. We tried on wonderful Lady Di hats. We went to Weathervane [God, the nostalgia] — there’s a pleated skirt there that I am absolutely in love with. Then we left and walked down to Richie’s House of Bargains [A record store. It must be said in the Rhode Island accent. “Bah-gnz.”]. I bought another Police album with a breathtaking profile of Sting on the front. . I am hooked. I have this thing for Sting. I cry. Really I do! I saw a picture of him doing a concert with a broken arm in a sling. Oh, break my heart! Sting in a sling! I guess I have this thing for Sting in a sling.

Also, on Saturday I saw that James Dean documentary again. [Add him onto the heap. Sting, John McEnroe, and Jimmy Dean] If anyone were to ask me: “Who is your ultimate idol?” – it would be James Dean. No one comes close. Well, maybe Marlon Brando. But I like Jimmy better. When they started showing all the funeral shots, with the shiny coffin and gravestone — he was so young, he had so much going for him. Tears streaked my face. I kept whispering, “Why, Jimmy? Why?”

When you think about it, it is heartbreaking.