(Here is a black and white of one of our inturners looking rather poolish.–Oh! Wait! Inturner? I meant Lana Turner!) Greetings from Moscow, oh loveable Literati! Today’s contest entry in honor of Peggy Dobbs comes from Barbara Keeling, an Oceanside authoress entering our playground for the first time. She is sure to make a splash! …
(Here is a black and white of one of our inturners looking rather poolish.–Oh! Wait! Inturner? I meant Lana Turner!)
Greetings from Moscow, oh loveable Literati!
Today’s contest entry in honor of Peggy Dobbs comes from Barbara Keeling, an Oceanside authoress entering our playground for the first time. She is sure to make a splash! Please welcome her and behave yourselves!
NOT BEING BEAUTIFUL
By Barb Keeling
Now that I am old, I find my self, at odd moments, allowing what is left of my memory to glance back over the heap of years gone by. This is often a search for previously occurred times of delight. Those moments often do not linger long in our thoughts, but leave their footprint just the same. I peeked into the past and found an episode that may be worth mentioning as a sample of simple youthful discovery.
I grew up in a small California farm community of about 2000 folks. Our touch with the outside world was from radio, the newspaper and the movie theater news reel. We knew almost “everyone” in town. Life was easy going and not filled with much sophistication. A simple activity could border on a life changing experience.
In 1945 when I was 13, I discovered I was not beautiful. I don’t think I had really thought about it too much, but I was amazed when I did pay attention to that shocking bit of visual realization.
What happened was I had gone off to a moving picture show. I don’t recall what movie I saw, but do remember a really unusual looking girl playing a “beautiful lady” in the film. She made a big impression on me.
The actual discovery of my personal lack of glamor came after I returned home from that movie. I stood in front of the full-length mirror. I looked at myself more seriously.
But I seemed to look okay to me. After all, my hair was curled and looked pretty good. I loved that pleated skirt and sweater I was wearing. My socks had thick rolled down cuffs folded over my Spaulding White Buck Shoes. I was pretty well decked out. All in all I thought I looked really nice, but not like the beautiful movie star lady in the film. I’m not sure what made her look so different from me. I think it was she seemed to have more rounded parts than I did.
She was wearing a bathing suit in the movie. The way it fit her was bothersome. The upper front part of her swimsuit actually didn’t fit very well over her chest. When she walked around, that whole area seemed to bounce up and down like a bunch of jiggle parts. I guess she didn’t realize she just needed to tighten up the shoulder straps to fix that. In fact her swimming suit didn’t cover up her bottom too well either.
Then she was walking around in really high heel shoes. Now that part seemed very odd to me. Why would you be wearing a pair of high heel shoes with your swim outfit? But no matter how poorly this bathing suit fit her she still looked beautiful to me.
This lovely lady must have been a very important person to the movie makers. They had her doing all sort of things in the film. While she was walking around a swimming pool, some music started and she began to dance going around and around. She went around so many times and so fast I don’t know why she didn’t fall down. Then suddenly out of nowhere a handsome man in a tuxedo showed up and grabs her and they did the fastest dancing I had ever seen.
Somehow it seemed strange to me, to have a lady in a swimsuit and a man in a tuxedo dancing with her out in the hot sun by a swimming pool. But I guess that is what the moving picture business is all about. No matter how weird this all seemed. I was happy to have seen her in the movie. To be honest, I didn’t know beautiful ladies like that existed.
After checking myself out in the mirror again I figured it was not likely that I was ever going to look like her and I should not let that bother me.
I began to think of the logic of all this. I was 13 years old and in all my years this was the first beautiful lady I had ever seen. So, I am guessing there aren’t many of them around. In that case, I shouldn’t have to worry about not being able to be one.
Passing by that day of wonderment, a lot of years have come and gone. Since then, I don’t think I have given much thought to “not being beautiful”. I had always said I would rather have a sense of humor then be beautiful. That worked out well for me. I am 81 years old and if I had been beautiful, that would be all gone by now. But I swear it’s not too late to have a sense of humor. And I am so glad I still do.
I hope I made you smile today.
(you can enter our contest for a chance to win $500 and bragging rights here:http://www.awordwithyoupress.com/category/contests/peggy-dobbs-1-announcements/