Love, the early years

The problem is that my love life got off on the wrong foot. I was never attracted to the right guys for the right reasons. My first TV crush was on Fonzie — which doesn’t sound that bad until you consider that I was a 4 year-old little girl sneaking out of bed to watch a 36 year-old man pretend to be a 19 year-old drop out. Aim high, Skinner. I knew it was wrong, so if you had asked me, I would have told you I hated Fonzie and then whipped my head around to give a tortured reaction shot to the other camera. I learned drama and denial the same day I learned love.

I was also fuzzy on what made him so attractive — yes, Fonzie was the coolest guy around, but why? Well, now we know that it is because he was an independent, confident, tough-yet-sensitive dude who could start a jukebox with his fist. But at the time, I mistakenly thought it was because of his motorcycle, dark thick hair, and working-class-rebel style. Which is why my next crushes were on Schneider from One Day At A Time, and Bowser from Sha-Na-Na. For those of you unfamiliar with the swarthy hunks, Bowser was the baritone in a 1950s nostalgia group, and was known for making this signature face:

And Schneider was the hilarious building super that fixed toilets and hit on Bonnie Franklin, who found it surprisingly easy to resist this:

(I believe this is where it all started to go off the rails for me.)

Then, I met a real guy.

When I was about 3 years old my mother asked me if I was going to get married one day. I said yes. She asked to whom? Perhaps to one of my playgroup friends — Zander, or Ben? My answer was “No! I’m not going to marry a CHILD.”

So, this is where my head was at when I met Lucien. He was 37, (my target age) and an actor (almost as thriving a career path as drop out/super/du-wop singer) in a local production of Christmas Carol. He had AMAZING hair. I mean, he had a boyfriend, but did I mention his hair?

My older sister was also in the show, playing one of the Crachitt children, and had invited him over for dinner. When he arrived I immediately started embarrassing my family by showing him all my toys — and by that I mean repeatedly pulling my dress over my head and touching his hair way too much. My mother hurried us through dinner as I blatantly fawned over Lucien from my not-technically-a-high-chair-but-higher-than-a-normal-chair chair. I may have asked him to marry me once or twice. My sister may have threatened to leave me under the porch if I didn’t stop. Finally, I was sent to bed — only to sneak back into the living room to show Lucien my nightgown. I was a tiny whore. It had all the desperation of a reverse Cougar Town.

Were there guys my age that I could have gone for? Sure! Great guys — guys into science, or at least airplanes. But no, I had to ignore all of them to find the old gay actor who just wasn’t that into me. I’m still glad I didn’t marry a kid though, that would have been gross.