What about Mary?

I feel like I’ve made a new friend this week: I “met” Mary Harlow Oleary again for the first time!

We all remember the Mary Harlow of our high school years: studious, serious and focused, right? Well, maybe in 1975, but nowadays Mary Harlow Oleary is witty, funny and even downright giddy at times!

Mary and I talked by phone for a good while the other night, catching up and reminiscing about the old days in Rison. But, the funny thing is this: I learned so much about Mary that I never knew. For instance, I had no idea that Mary didn’t drive when we were in high school. In fact, Mary tells me that she didn’t own a driver’s license until she was well into her freshman year at UAM. Mary laughed about the fact that her Mom “drove her to college” until Christmas break of her first year, at which point Mom made an executive decision that Mary was going to learn to drive – or else hitch a ride the rest of her college career! It must’ve been the right amount of motivation – Mary got her license and started driving (even though, as she’ll tell you, she still doesn’t enjoy it very much!)

I learned that Mary and her husband, Kleeman, have been married for 29 years! I’m always fascinated by folks with successful marriages, so I asked Mary if she felt that she and Kleeman really knew each other. She replied, “Oh yes! He even knows what I’m talking about when I’m not exactly sure!” Now, although Mary referred to him jokingly as “Old Grumpy,” I got the distinct feeling that she and her husband are very close. In fact, as Mary would say, “I guess that's because it's been just the two of us all these years.” To that end, Mary admitted that she almost “missed out” on her husband because she was a little, shall we say, “non-committal” at first. (I interpreted that confession to mean that Mary was too busy “dating around” during her last semester at UAM and didn’t recognize a “good thing,” if you get my drift!) Mary feared that Kleeman had given up on her, but luckily for her (and him), he didn’t.

Mary and Kleeman made their home in McGehee, AR around 27 years ago; McGehee is a close commute to Dumas, where Mary teaches 4th graders. (Husband Kleeman jokes that they can “see the city limit sign,” but that after 25 years Mary finally made it back to living on a gravel road). Mary, as everyone recalls, was very “bright” in school, (that means “dang smart”) I seem to recall that Mary was especially gifted in math, so it’s no surprise that she’s in charge of the science lab at her school, even if she still has a penchant for math. I asked Mary if she’d ever taught any other grade levels and her answer came as a polite “no, not really.” She really favors the 4th grade age range. Her teaching goals shouldn’t come as a surprise either: Mary determined early in life that she wanted a career as a teacher. (How is it that some kids are so mature? I could barely dress myself when I graduated!)

Being a “science aficionado,” Mary can’t imagine working in her field without the aid of computer technology. In fact, her classroom is outfitted with the latest gee-whiz stuff, including a “smart board,” whatever the heck that is! However, as we contrasted today’s latest technology with what was available when she began teaching, Mary began to chuckle. The first time the school (Dermott I think, where she taught for a few years) presented Mary with a “portable computer on wheels” Mary demanded that they “get that thing outta here!” I guess she overcame her distaste for high-tech.

Mary recalled many fond memories while at Rison High. I asked who she “buddied” with in high school and she quickly remembered Debbie Cox, Susan Cash, Kathy Smoot, Elizabeth Leopard and Gwen Roberts. “I guess there was such a small number of us girls that we were all pretty close,” Mary commented. But then Mary reminded me that she didn’t have the luxury of doing a lot of “running around” anyway, because she lived 17 miles away from Rison (in a suburb named “Herbine”).

Some of you may remember the other members of the Harlow clan: There’s Steve, who still lives in Rison, James (now deceased), Barry (who lives in Louisiana) and Rebecca that lives in the old family home in Herbine and teaches at Rison.

But, mostly we ‘75ers remember Mary; I’m grateful that I had the chance to “remember her again” in such a fun way!

Cheers!

Ken

Comments from Midnight

It was nice to hear from a former Risonian just the other day:


"Well, I can't believe you wrote about the concession stand...that was the only place I ate lunch my senior year. Always the same thing-Coke and a bag of chips-I think a total of about 25 cents. It was the Wildcat version of Starbucks. Do you get the feeling that small town school kids were too easily entertained? Probably a good thing and too bad that's not the case today... Am I the only one that makes comments on your blog? Naturally you would expect to hear from me since putting my two cents worth in is something I can't control...

- Keep on blogging! LGGD"

I'm grateful to LGGD (Midnight) for her comical comments. How about you? Care to comment? It should be easily accomplished, but LGGD tells me there's a problem. Someone give it a try and let me know if I need to get the tool kit out!

Rock on!

-Ken

The Dating Game

"Oh, she's not in love, she's just in love with an idea."

That was typical of the profound wisdom that we often shared with one another at Rison High, remember? And, it was all part of growing up in Rison: teenage angst, pimples, tests, the right clothes... and being in love.

I never fell in love in high school. Oh, there might have been an infatuation or two: I thought our art teacher, Judy McCarley, was charming. Sue Graves was the cutest math teacher I'd seen in a while ('course, my previous math teacher was Mike Leamons, so go figure). The cheerleaders were absolute dolls. But in love? What did we really know about that?

We dated around, of course. For some reason - maybe the challenge of it - we guys used to think it cool to date girls from Woodlawn. Looking back, I wonder why we didn't expand our explorations to Monticello, Star City, Fordyce or Pine Bluff. Why Woodlawn? I wonder too: did the Woodlawn guys come calling on the Rison girls?

As I remember it now, a date - at least in a formal sense - consisted of the dater picking up the datee and driving to maybe Big Banjo Pizza in Pine Bluff, taking in a movie and then returning to Rison. Of course, there was always the "parking issue." Now, truth be told, we guys never really knew if parking was in the offing. And, I don't really recall how we brought up the subject, but I'm sure that if parking was part of the evening's agenda, then the movie component of the date was probably scrubbed (because that would take far too much time, right?).

I remember a particularly embarrasing event that occurred after a night out with a "Woodlawn Girl" that, luckily for me, involved a "parking opportunity." (Thinking just now, I realize how ridiculously uncomfortable parking must have been and why it's probably only interesting to minors). Somehow (perhaps with a bit of luck or a tip from a friend) I located a dirt lane not far from the datee's house. My strategy was that the location would allow us to park much longer; consequently, I would not have far to go in order to deliver my date (or myself for that matter) home on time.

To my chagrin, I was not quite able to navigate the family Dodge out of the narrow dirt lane quite as easily as I had gotten it in there. Come to think of it, I probably couldn't see very well - on a good day I only stood around 5' 5" tall. So, there we were: 11:59pm on a Friday night, the middle of nowhere, my Dad's car is stuck, my date needs to get home and any thoughts about ending the evening like a scene out of Grease were completely out of the question.

So, we walked. Not much talking - just a lot of walking. Fast walking in fact: it's amazing how spooky Highway 35 can be after midnight. When we arrived, I remember my date's Mom remarking that she "didn't hear us drive up." Imagine her glee when I explained that we'd just walked about 2 miles from where we'd been smooching like I was going off to war the next day.

It's not a proud moment in a young man's life when your date's Mom has to fire up the farm truck after midnight only to jerk your Dad's car out of the ditch, where moments before you'd been wrasslin' with her only daughter! Afterward, I endured a much deserved lecture regarding the perils of parking, complete with a stern warning about any future ideas along those lines. Too, I discovered that a peace offering of Sweetarts to your date's Mom doesn't really smooth things over. Also, I found that after such an event, expecting a goodnight kiss is pushing one's luck!

I don't know for sure, but maybe that's why we were infatuated with Woodlawn Girls: there was always some kind of high drama involved with those "foreign chicks."

Yours,

Ken

Hair!

I used to have lots of hair. Or, better said, I had a bunch more than I do today. Thinking of that fact, I found the old picture (on the left) somewhere on my computer as I was scratching around tonight for more thoughts about our years at RHS.

Hair was such a big deal is the '70s wasn't it? We guys and girls, black and white, spent hours and hours on our hair. My friend and yours, Lisa Garner Douglas (aka "Midnight") had lots of hair...tons of it. I think without her hair she would have weighed maybe 50 pounds or so. James Mickey "Fuzzy" Coats had hair. The Brady Bunch could have taken a vacation in Fuzzy's hair. Gary Brewer had hair. Ronnie Word, Freddy Terry, Steve Davis, Ronnie Tillman...the list goes on...we all had long, long hair!

My brother and I were once the owners of a Remington Hot Comb..remember those? We were so proud of it, too! I think Dad frowned on our constant use of the 'ole Hot Comb - he thought we burned too much electricity! But bless his heart, he let us use it as long as we wanted. (He had lots of hair too, but Vaseline Hair Tonic kept his in place without the aid of electrical devices).

Mark Cathey's hair was always immaculate. Mark Trucks' hair never moved - it stayed perfect all the time. Mine blew around a lot, like everytime the wind came along. (Only sissies used hairspray). I always figured that when Mark and Mark got up in the morning, their hair looked perfect. And, to make matters worse, Mark Cathey's Mom was his barber! He didn't even leave the house for a trim! (Life is no more fair today than it was in 1975).

The funny thing is that every once in a while, I still get some crazy idea about growing my hair back to the length it was when I was 18. Then, the pain killers wear off and I realize I was hallucinating again :-) When it gets the least bit long, I remember how much of a pain it was to keep. They don't make Hot Combs any more anyway and my arms get tired when I hold them up that long.

Lisa Garner Douglas and her buddies had long, straight hair...like "down to the waist" hair. You girls used to sit on your hair a bunch...I know because...well, I used to sit behind you and I noticed your...uh...hair. I've always wanted to know, so now's the time to ask: did you wash your hair every night? I mean, come on! How many Hot Combs did you go though in a year?

David Urquehart, John Roshell, William Miller...all my African American buds had Afros. And after every ball game, William and the gang would stand for hours, using probably the only mirror in the locker room, grooming those Afros back into a perfectly round shape. By the way, what I'd give for a "pick!" Not one of those cheap knock-offs, but the original ones that were probably everywhere in the 70's. I don't know if you can even buy them today, but then again, "fros" are coming back, so maybe they're on the street again?

Speaking of which, isn't it funny to see the old hair styles come around again? I don't even know what the names of the styles are today, so you guys with kids will have to help me: what's with the "shaggy" look that the boys are wearing? And are the "new" Afros still called Afros? The new "shaggys" called "Shags?" What about the girls with long, straight hair, like Peggy Lipton from Mod Squad? It reminds me so much of the look that we had (or some of us) in our days.

I guess longer hair is for the young folks anyway. That's way too much trouble for a 50 year old. I have couple keeping fresh coffee in the fridge.

I'm just glad the skin-head look finally went out of style. Or did it?

Rock on,

Ken