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Health & Fitness

Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself – PART IX

As the middle 1970's approached thoughts of college, a grandmother in decline, a sibling's life in distress and futures to be decided all came into play at once.

My relationship with Randi Hersh continued for several months.  During our time together, we spent day and evenings at each other’s homes; attended parties together; and - wherever we were able to convince our parents to chauffer us – went to the movies and stores.  The problem with these junior “love affairs” is that the young lovers aren’t driving yet and are forced to be the awkward passengers of often reluctant designated drivers (aka: family members).

At some point, Randi and I decided that we were much too young to be seriously committed to one another and realized that we both needed to see other people.  Of course…we both were only about fifteen years old and had the correct thought about moving on.  So, we ended the serious side of our relationship and decided to remain good friends, which we still are to this day.  Only kids can get away with staying friends after they move on – there is no emotional baggage.

On the home front, Desly and Larry had legally separated and Desly just seemed to want to make up for the lost time in her marriage.  She was almost wild in her approach to having a good time and seeking out other love interests. She seemed to have a new boyfriend each week. This “wild” period continued for about a year or so, until she met a fellow from Manalapan named Harvey. 
Harvey was a very large and imposing fellow; a little closer to her age than Larry was and much more outgoing. They seemed to hit it off well, right away, and started dating regularly.

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I was working hard at school and trying to make some respectable grades for colleges to consider.  I was never to be a top student at Ranney. Math and foreign language continued to be my Achilles heels.  I was fortunate to have good tutors and extra help from my teachers. I muddled through.

For some reason, I never really formed a strong interest in any of the girls attending Ranney.  First of all, my class was rather small, with less than thirty students. There weren’t too many girls to choose from.  Yeah, I flirted with Anne Danzig, Jane Presser and Laura Wolfe (may she rest in peace), but never asked any of them out.  Frankly, I don’t think any of them were all that interested in me either. 

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At fifteen, I was no junior male model.  At 5’5”, I towered over the fifth graders.  And at 155 lbs, I was a little stocky for a boy my height.  And, I had a terrible case of Acne – the kind that caused scarring.  No…I was nobody’s first choice to be their boyfriend in high school.

Ranney experienced a lot of student churning.  It was an expensive school and not all of the students enjoyed going there.  Each year, we lost a few classmates to public school and gained a few new ones, who enrolled to check our prep school out.  I remember standing in the hallway in September of 1973 and casting my eyes on the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.  Her name was Cyd.

Cyd was petite, with long silky brown hair and huge dark eyes.  The first time she appeared in the school hallway, the breathing of every male student stopped as they gazed at this exceptional beauty.  I could not imagine God creating a prettier girl than Cyd.  My friends all wanted to meet her and, hopefully, date her.  Me?  I went back to being hopelessly shy, once again.  My tongue got tied in knots every time I approached Cyd to talk.  Over time, we developed a warm and cordial relationship as classmates.  But, I never could muster enough courage to get closer with her and ask her out.  The window of opportunity was very brief, anyway.  Cyd left Ranney after one year and returned to Holmdel High School.

Cyd lives in Israel these days.  We are Facebook friends and chat quite often.  A couple of years ago, I told her about the crush I had on her in high school and we shared a few laughs about the many innocent (and not so innocent) loves of teenagers.  Cyd even shared her stories about the Ranney guys, who actually got to date her.  She admitted that some of those dates were huge mistakes.  It was fun reliving those days with her and relating it all to our mature frames of reference.

After Randi Hersh, I entered a period of “pen pal” girlfriends.  I ended up communicating from afar with a few girls I met at various places.  Most lived too far to visit very often.  Let’s see; there was Marian Taylor.  I met her during a weekend at Host Farms in Lancaster, Pa.  Marian lived in Spring Valley, NY.  Sandi Segal, was my friend Willy’s cousin from Philadelphia. We corresponded for awhile before moving on to others.  And, there was Lisa Mehlman, who used to visit me every day on the Asbury Boardwalk, during my summer job there.  Lisa lived in West Long Branch.  Not so far away, but still difficult to get to without a car.

Marian and Sandi were strictly “snail mail” affairs.  Lisa and I often got silly on the phone and spoke almost every night.  She was two years younger than me, so getting silly was pretty easy for her.  She was a fun girl and we enjoyed talking for hours on the telephone.  Despite these few long distance romances, I still longed for an in the flesh girlfriend I could actually spend quality time with.

Eventually, I realized that I missed Randi.  She was so much fun to be with and we had so much fun together.  After giving it lots of thought, I made a decision and got up the nerve to call her and see if we could possibly get back together. 
Unfortunately for me, Randi was dating her Brother Steve’s college roommate at Upsala College in East Orange (NJ).  She was head over heels for Larry and ended up marrying him a few years later.  Today, they are a lovely couple with a nice family.  I am happy for them both.

Grandma Pearl’s Alzheimer’s was progressing more rapidly and she could no longer hold a job or live alone.  She would call my parents late at night and report people looking in her windows and trying to steal her money.  She began hiding things around her apartment and even flushed some of her money down the toilet for – what she thought – was safe keeping.  It was soon decided that it was time to move grandma out of Parker Apartments and into our house on Taylors Mills Road.

On the weekends, mom, dad and I continued to work Englishtown Auction Sales.  Those were very good years and mom and dad did very well at EAS as well as in their wall-to-wall carpet business from home. They weren’t getting rich, but we were able to do much more than ever before and live comfortably.  Make no mistake, they still worked very hard.  But, their hard work was paying off.

In 1973, it was time to begin exploring colleges.  Out of 27 students in my class, I ranked next to last, so the “Ivy League” schools were immediately eliminated from consideration.  Actually, my short list of college choices included: Rider College, Stockton State College and Ramapo College, which was just getting ready to open. No intellectual power houses in that group.

Though I had the grades to get into Rider, my first choice, we soon found out that they wouldn’t accept any students from The Ranney School.  It seems that the Admission’s Director Earl Davis and Russell G. Ranney once engaged in a fist fight over college application and Davis vowed never to accept students from the Ranney School.

Bruce Canell was in his junior year at Manalapan High School and was also considering colleges.  He was looking to study Management and had already applied to Syracuse University in upstate NY.  Bruce encouraged me to apply to Syracuse and see if we could possibly attend, together.  My parents and I thought it a waste of time, but they decided to support me in a try to get accepted there.

One day, a letter arrived from Syracuse admissions.  They were inviting us up to tour the campus.  It was a very cold winter and there was plenty of snow on the ground in both New Jersey and upstate New York.  The difference was that New Jersey had six inches of the white stuff, while Syracuse had really been dumped on with a foot and one half. So, we were smart and took an Amtrak train to upstate New York.  The train was so slow that it made Syracuse seem like it was so much farther than the five hours it usually takes to drive there from Manalapan (NJ) by car.

As the train pulled into the station, we all got off and stepped into waist deep snow.  We took a taxi cab to the University from the Syracuse train station and arrived on campus in about twenty minutes time. Approaching the main campus, I took one look at iconic Crouse College, the Hall of Languages and Hendricks’s Chapel and immediately fell in love with the university.  Seeing all that snow around, my parents thought I was nuts.  I enjoy winter more than summer and was not fazed by it.  It just felt like the right fit for me.

The admission’s department spoke to us and showed us a slide presentation about the school and its programs. I remember that the slideshow featured “Come Saturday Morning,” a great sentimental music choice for such an appealing presentation.  I was already hooked and wanting to go to SU.  So, we
made a formal application; headed home on Amtrak and began the long wait for an answer; never expecting an acceptance.

Back at Ranney, the students were preparing for the spring proms.  I needed a date for my senior prom, which was to be held at the Navesink Country Club in Shrewsbury. I decided to ask Lisa Mehlman.  We made a cute couple. Mom drove us to the event; picked us up; and took us home.  It was a nice evening and Lisa and I had a great time.

Waiting for college acceptances was a nerve wracking experience.  Moving a grandparent with Alzheimer’s into the family home and watch her lose herself was difficult to watch.  And, hoping that a sibling had finally found the right mate was concerning.  To be continued…



 
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