Turning Point

ART: "Sugar Shack" By Ernie Barnes

Okay, I was going to do one of my more political posts, find something about Barack Obama, jack the subject matter, and put my own spin on it... but, Zack gave me an idea for a post that I have long wanted to do but, hesitated about doing. I have talked about many of my colorful friends and their ups and downs. It occurred to me that I have never talked about my own. At long last, I'm going to talk about what was probably the worst day of my life and how it changed me forever...

My mother always said that I was a good boy up until about the age of 15 and to use her words, "that's when the trouble started." I made good grades in school, went to church every Sunday, sang in the choir, and was even a Boy Scout at one time. I was also Steve Urkel without the suspenders and ill-fitting clothes and I had a reedy, nasally voice. I always wore a pressed white shirt and a pressed pair of Chinos to school. My grandmother would slap Vaseline on my face and pinch my nose, right before she passed me my books and sent me off to school.

When I was around 13 or 14 years old, I started growing and my voice began to crack, change, and get a little deeper. By age 15, I was six feet tall and towered above both of my parents. I was very uncomfortable with these body and voice changes (which I would find out much later was not only normal but, everybody else was going through these changes too... they were just frontin' better, I suppose.)

My brother and I went to a party at the old Wagner Ballroom (for those of you from Philly). You know how those kind of parties are... all the guys standing on one side of the room trying to be cool and all the girls on the other side talking, giggling, and wanting you to ask them to dance but, not letting you know it. Most of us are willing to dance but, only if there is a lot of people on the floor. Nobody wants to be the only two out there dancing with everybody looking.

Anyway, they played the song "Walk on By" by Isaac Hayes (yeah, his death brought this memory back) and I asked this girl to dance. She was brown-skinned, very pretty, and had on a very sheer party dress (she was like Madonna, eleven years before anyone ever heard of her).

I had absolutely no rhythm on the dance floor back then (some would argue I don't even now-lol) and this was a slow song. Well, the girl dipped and I wasn't ready (or something or other) and I lost my balance. I grabbed a hold of her sleeve to catch myself and the sleeve and half of the girl's dress came off. I hit the floor with a thud with half that girl's dress in my hand! I vaguely remember her kicking me in my side but, I was too embarrassed to remember the pain.

Of course, the room did what you are probably are doing now... everybody's mouth was hanging open and then, they burst into laughter (which I would have done myself, if it had been someone other than me). In that moment, I felt more alone than I had ever felt before. I heard my own brother, who was dancing with another girl, say "Nah, I didn't come here with him. I don't know him." (I didn't blame him... I might have done the same thing.) We had to run out of there after that but, the good thing was, the Wagner Ballroom was near my brother's high school (Central) and nowhere near where we lived in West Philly... meaning, I didn't know any of the kids at the party and never had to see them again. Philly is a big city.

My mother and my grandmother felt sorry for me I know but, even THEY laughed when they heard the story. But, my grandmother told me something that I'll never forget... "Well baby, nothing that will happen to you will ever be worse than that so move on, grow, and don't dwell on it." I made up my mind right then and there that I wasn't going to be THAT guy ever again or let anybody put me in that box.

Within a year, I was (if not) old enough then, certainly big enough to work (without working papers and without anybody asking) and make a little money. I used my small income to "help my mother out" with buying my clothes. Sometimes, she would protest my choice in clothing but, I think she admired my independence and willingness to do for myself.

My wardrobe wasn't the only thing that changed. I became the type of guy I admired... the guy who wasn't afraid of girls. When I met a girl I liked (and I don't care how out of my league she was), I talked to her. I also found that I could make people laugh (I was always imitating someone on TV, when I wasn't making up stuff out of thin air) and I used it to my advantage. I didn't always get the cute girls but, I could count a whole lot of them as my friends. In turn, a lot of their friends, who were maybe "okay" but not quite as cute, became my first girlfriends.

By the time I was 19 years, I was miles and miles away from that guy who fell on the dance floor. I still can't dance much but, was smart enough never to put myself in a situation where I looked like a fool on the dance floor. The women I work with "marvel" at how many female friends I have and they joke that they have never met a man so "comfortable and leisurely" around women. I wouldn't have believed it myself but, it was what my grandmother said so many years ago that was my turning point... "Nothing that will ever happen to you will ever be worse than that..."

This is why I never met a woman who I thought was "out of my league", even though many really were. I just didn't have anymore fear. I would hear Isaac Hayes singing "Walk on By", think of that moment, and realize... whatever the outcome, it ain't gonna be that bad and move on from there. Positive thinking at it's best. Imagine who you can be and then, go out and do everything you can to actually be that person.

I hope y'all had a good laugh at my expense but, learned something too!