Eighth Grade was when I had my first real girlfriend, Kathy O’Leary. Her hall locker was next to mine — they were assigned  in alphabetical order then. She had long brown hair. She was smart, had a good personality, was a ballet dancer, and liked to sing. We spent a lot of time kissing along the side of her house. One time around Christmas while we were resting our lips, she mentioned that her birthday was in June, and asked me when my birthday was. I couldn’t bring myself to say I was younger than her, so I made up a date in April, so we could get back to sucking face. I forgot all about it. A few months later we were going out to the movies with her family, and after they picked me up, she said they had to go back to her house to pick up her purse. When I went with her inside, I was blown away!  It was a surprise 15th birthday party, FOR ME!!!! Only about four months early, but I didn’t let on — she and her family went to so much trouble and I didn’t want to spoil it — at least this is what I told myself at the time. All my friends were there and Mom even made the cake. No one told Kathy! I got some great records that night, Volunteers by Jefferson Airplane, and Bookends by Simon and Garfunkle. When I asked Mom later what she was thinking, she thought Kathy was doing a wacky “unbirthday” teenage thing. The ironic thing about all this for me was that up to that point, I had never had a birthday party thrown for me. My parents were not big birthday celebrators and I, being the third born, was happy to get a cake and pick what we had for dinner that night in addition to a gift or two. So the first birthday party that was ever organized for me, wasn’t even close to being on my birthday, because of a prideful lie. Lying was an easy and convenient way of saving or bolstering my ego then. It would be a lie to say that was the last time I lied. I had plenty of opportunities to stretch the truth or make up stuff outright, but after this episode, I always asked myself if I had the memory to maintain the lie, or if it was just easier to tell the truth. The fact that I’m writing this blog should be an indicator that as I mature and age, I found the latter to be the best way to go. What happened to our relationship? I spent a lot of time watching her dance in the ballet scene in every presentation of Oklahoma at the Washington Crossing Open Air Theater in the summer of 1967. The next year she transferred to the Stuart Country Day School in Princeton, where I went to a dance or two, but she wanted to date others guys — probably older. I have to admit it was a relief not having to keep up the birthday lie. Holding on to lies can be very stressful. The image above shows how Kathy signed my 8th grade year book. I had given her the nickname “Ole Irish.” I wonder how long she knew about her leaving to go to another school. Hmm.

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