 |
| Robert Joseph Murdaugh |
We've all had our First Crush. Lately I've been thinking about my first infatuation. Of course the object of my amorous
I will give the full name of my first crush because I know in the past when I've given the full name, through the miracle of the search engines of our Internet age, he may find my humble posting. I've had this happen in the past, sometimes with good results and sometimes not so good. No, I'm not going to go there other than to say the son of the married man with family who first seduced me wasn't too thrilled that I posted my "First Time" about his dad. Hey, it is what it is. At least I answered a question his family always had "Was my dad gay?" My answer to him was "He was when he was
So without further ado here is how I first fell in love with another
 |
| Oh yes, that's me to the far right with the rolled up jeans - a 12 year old hopelessly in love with an upperclassman two years my senior - 1954 |
I first saw him when I was riding to school on my school bus. My school bus stop was Boot Road, Downingtown, PA. He got on at the next stop which was by the quarry.
To this day I remember clearly where he lived. I could see his house from my seat in the school bus. His house looked like the house of the Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe. I was always fascinated at how many of his brothers and sisters (all younger than him) emerged from that house on the corner right across from the quarry. There was his younger sister Joanne and his younger brother Clifford and several other younger siblings whose names I never knew but then there was HIM. When he stepped up the steps on the bus I had to catch my breath. I was mesmerized.
That smile.
That wavy hair.
Those blue eyes.
I was too young to even think of THAT BODY but some inner sense knew that this was my dreamboat come true.
With great anticipation every day I would eagerly look forward to the Next Bus Stop when he would get on my bus. Of course it was too much for me to ever hope that he would sit next to me. And in all the years we took the same bus he never once did sit next to me so me MUST HAVE KNOWN that I was in LOVE with him.
Now folks, I'm going to get a little graphic here so if their are children in the room or you are a bit squeamish, might be best for you to move on to your next blog.
So here's what happened next. Almost every day I would see "Bobby" (as I called him) get on the bus. I was in heaven even if I was only looking at the back of his wavy haired head most of the time on the bus. I almost always did get to see him climb those steps and see THAT SMILE.
Then something strange happened a few weeks later. I woke up one night and my bed was all "sticky." I had NO IDEA what happened. Now remember I was a very innocent kid in a small town in the Fifties. No Internet and only Uncle Miltie on my small screen black and white Philco TV.
I guess most of you can figure out what happened that night. I had my first "nocturnal emission." In other words I had a wet dream.
Later in life I have read stories about young girls who had their first period and were scared to death. Hey folks, that was my first "period." I had NO IDEA what happened. Of course it didn't take me too long to figure out what was going on, I was dreaming about HIM.
Now just to bring my fellow wise guys (you know who you are), I never had a "mentor" to show me the ways of burgeoning young adolescent sexual awareness. In fact I never learned (make sure you're sitting down when you hear this) how to masturbate until I was twenty-seven years old! I know, I know. No one believes me but this is a fact of my life. Such things weren't taught in high school and certainly never talked about in my family.
Okay folks, you can take your seat belts off now because I'm not going to get any more graphic than I just did. Sorry if I offended any of my regular readers but this is the only way I could describe my "situation."
For the next four years I would often fantasize about "Bobby." In fact, my first pet, a cat I named "Bobby" in his honor. That's how ridiculously lovesick I was.
 |
| "Bobby" my pet pussy cat 1954 I had many, many dreams about Bobby. Many. It got so that I could almost control my dreams. Then there came a time that Bobby graduated from high school. He was a senior and I was a sophomore.  |
Interestingly, the year before in the yearbook (1956) we appeared "together". That's me in the Ping Pong Club, third from the right in the back row. Bobby is sitting on the ledge with the Stamp Club (he wasn't actually in the "Stamp Club" but was in the "Slide Rule Club") with his elbow leaning on his classmate to his right. That was a close as I ever got to my fantasy.
 |
| Me, the tall one in the back on the right with the brick wall behind me - 1956 |
 |
| My fantasy man sitting on the window ledge next to "Todd" - 1956 I just about died when I saw this photo All the years we went to high school together (four) he never spoke one word to me. Of course I was so shy and backwards I didn't dare say anything to him. When he graduated in 1957 I felt like I lost something. Even though I didn't know him and we certainly weren't friends I always knew he was "there." I never knew what happened to him when he graduated from high school. Just tonight I went on Ancestry.com and checked the Social Security Death Index to make sure he was still alive. He must be because I couldn't find his name there. However, I did find a marriage record for him in Ohio. I also found an address for him in Ohio. So he must have been straight, he got married. Uh huh. So in all the years since, and especially now that I am at the end of my tenure here on earth, I've often wondered what became of my "Bobby." All I can say now though is that he was, even if he didn't know it, an integral and wonderful part of my adolescence and development of my sexual awareness. I've often wondered if he knew that I   |