 I am an East Coast expatriate hiding out in the Midwest... I am an urban gal living in the suburbs and occasionally hiding in the country I am a yoga practitioner, fitness enthusiast, believer in the mind-body-spirit connection... I am a mid-life "revert" to the Roman Catholic faith in which I was raised and which has become an enormous source of support, encouragement, inspiration, and joy in my life... I am a mom, sister, daughter, and wife... I am an explorer; adventurous and curious about the world and people around me... I am educated in the formal sense but I gain insight through everyday living... I created this blog at a time of great fear and apprehension in my life. I chose to sustain it because of the discoveries about myself and the world around me that it has revealed. What you can expect to find here: the documentation of a love-hate relationship with the greater Philadelphia area
reminiscing about the good-ole-days (the 80's!)
complaints about my various ailments and injuries, both real and imagined
pictures and stories of gardening, decorating, shopping, sewing
my love of irony
links to kooky news stories
way too much scatological musing for sane people
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Monday, November 28, 2005
When I was 15 years old, I was ensconced at an all-girls so-called college prep academy on Philadelphia's (in-)famous Main Line. I had attended single-sex school since first grade and aside from the occasional (and lame-o) St. Aloyisius or Malvern Prep school dances, I had never socialized with boys.
By eighth grade (circa 1983) I had become a devoted fan of I-92 , Philly's own new wave/punk radio station. When that station closed shop I drew the dial a bit lower to the local college station frequencies to hear all the hits by bands as diverse in style (and degree of wimpiness) as The Lyres, Agent Orange, Human Sexual Response, and The Three O'Clock. Due to its proximity to my home, my white-and-purple Sanyo boombox honed in on WSRN-FM, Swarthmore College's student-run station.
By 1984 I was hooked on 'SRN and got to know the schedule pretty well. One night I caught a student show that featured that most intense of 80's genres: "Hardcore". The guy running the show assumed the moniker "Alternative Oyster" which I assume was a pun on the Stiff Little Fingers riff (Alternative Ulster) and his own love of all things oceanic. A self-proclaimed Florida surfer-kid, "The Oyster" introduced suburbanites like me to Minor Threat, TSOL, Bad Brains, Black Flag and more.
Once I latched my teen brain around a few punk faves, I began calling the Oyster at the station to make requests. Request calls turned into chats. Chats into flirtations. And finally, one call netted me one of my most cheirshed lifetime events: My First Real Date. [See my 100 Things About Me list #41]
Of course I had to learn this guy's name if my mother was to allow me, her 15-year-old daughter, to go to Center City (Philadelphia) with a college freshman. I don't recall how I asked or how he told me, but eventually I learned his name was George.
George asked me out to share the epitome of cool punk date opportunities: Go downtown to the only arthouse theatre in the metro area to partake of Repo Man.
Even in my boy-shy state back then, I don't think I considered the date to be romantic in nature, as much as getting a one-time opportunity to hang out with a really cool guy, someone I looked up to at the time.
And what WAS cool was that George dressed up nicely and agreed to meet my parents at the train station before we headed downtown. I think he put more into his outfit than I did.
I thought I was ever so punk in: A red shaker-knit sweater from The Limited (you KNOW you had one of those!), NUDE pantyhose, red pointy suede skimmers (which are back in style again, natch), and the ubiquitous jean miniskirt. I had my kickass coiffure, ever resplendent in its gleaming lacquer of dippity-do gel and aquanet hairspray. The glamour of my 'do was offset by silver hoop earrings borrowed from mom and my own hint of bling: my orthodontic work. I topped everything off with a long navy wool coat. [Sidebar: For whatever reason, what would now be considered "classic" coats today had a certain cache among early 80's teens in that they were an alternative to the dopey neon ski jackets worn by unhip teens of the era.]
Despite my Valley Girl attire, at least I had the sense to leave all my Duran Duran pins at home that night.
Once we met, the evening was off to a rolicking start. In contrast to my tiny 5'2" self, 18-year-old George was a lanky 6'7"!!!! Right off the bat it had a visual pun. The many glints of teen wisdom I offered unsolicited throughout the evening must have entertained him for quite some time. One that stuck was my proclamation of every other long-coat-wearing teen in line at the movies as " Pseudo". Not "Poseur" or similar term of the era. My braces echoed only "Look at those PSEUDOS!" And, man, I said it with such conviction. George shook his head and chuckled in amusement.
Throughout the evening - from the walk to the theatre, to a restaurant later for a snack, and back to the train station - we walked arm-in-arm. The size difference made it difficult, but I guess I thought that 's what boys and girls did on dates.
Before boarding the train we were sitting quietly on a bench in the station and he leaned over to give me a kiss. It was something of a surprise and I was very embarassed about being thought of as immature or geeky, what with the braces and all...
We never dated again but George got back in touch with me a few years later when he showed up at my parents house, looking pretty darn freaky (think half-shaved head, pajamas-as-clothing and possibly makeup of some sort), and stayed to dinner. It was wierd. I still have no idea why he walked from campus over to our house but luckily my parents played it cool and were hospitable.
Just for fun, I Googled The Oyster last night and found out that besides working as an extreme sports photographer (I always knew he loved surfing and skateboarding) he has authored a number of books. His most recent work has been getting excellent reviews and is now in its second printing. Put it on your Wish List - it sure as hell is on mine!
Posted at 02:08 am by brandy101
 | Posted by chrysalis @ 12/01/2005 11:26 AM PST | | Your title "Pseudo" brings a giggle to my morning!
At age 18, when I met the girl who was soon to become my first new girlfriend in college, I asked her if she had a boyfriend. She told me, "Well, yeah, but I'd call him a pseudo-boyfriend." I knew right then that I had a chance. From then on as I pursued her, he went from a pseudo to a wannabe to a somebody-I-used-to-think-had-a-nice-butt to a who's-that. And then I never heard another word about him ... | |
| Posted by the truth about deez @ 11/30/2005 09:15 AM PST | | | that's relaly cool, to know thos ppl that we looked up to didn't let us down. Very cool u went back to check on him too. Just stopping by, found you by way of innerlyly. | |
| Posted by AbbyNormal @ 11/28/2005 02:08 PM PST | | Wow, that really took me back to all that 80's stuff - complete with shaker-knit sweater from The Limited!
And he's an author? Doesn't look like he'll make Oprah's list anytime soon! | |
| Posted by Michelle @ 11/28/2005 01:49 PM PST | | | Wow what a cool story! | |
| Posted by Miss Ginger @ 11/28/2005 11:20 AM PST | | A post that I could have written myself! You took me right back to high school, Brandy, good job, chickie!
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