Magnificent Melanie, episode 3

Magnificent Melanie, episode 1

Magnificent Melanie, episode 2 

It was mid-May 1978 and the weather was getting nicer each day. On a Thursday, Melanie asked Jason if he’d like to come over after school and maybe stay for dinner. “We’re just having hot dogs, so it’s nothing fancy. I’ve already cleared it with my parents, and they’re fine with it. Your sister’s been over a couple of times with Wendy, so they know her.”

He didn’t have detention that day and otherwise had no extra-curricular activities so he said, “Sure.”

“I just think you ought to meet my family. I’ve told them so much about you,” she said.

Jason was a bit taken aback. “You have?”

“Yes, really, I have,” she nodded enthusiastically. “I think you’re sort of special, okay?”

“Wow, thanks,” was all Jason could say.

When they got to her house later that afternoon, her brother Mark, a lanky 20-year-old with feathered brown hair and a mustache, was in the open garage with his friend Steve as they worked on a rusty 1967 Plymouth Barracuda. There was a hint of marijuana smoke in the air along with the Old Gold Filter cigarettes, while an FM rock station played.

“This is my brother Mark,” she said. “Mark, this is Jason, the guy from school I’ve been talking about.” Then she said back at Jason, “And that’s his friend Steve.”

“Hey, dude,” Mark said as they shook hands, and then Jason shook Steve’s hand.

Jason asked about the car they were working on and after a few minutes of discussion between the three of them, Melanie took Jason’s hand and said, “Okay, I think we should go in the house now. I gotta introduce you to my mom.”

“Later, dude,” Mark said to Jason, adding, “Just remember, when you marry the woman, you marry her whole damn family,” and laughed out loud. Jason got a slightly uneasy look on his face.

“Oh shut up, Mark,” Melanie retorted. “Are you trying to get him to run away?”

Melanie led him to the front door of the split-level house, telling him, “I also have an older sister named Donna. She’s married and lives with her husband,” adding, “Obviously.”

Through the front door they went up the stairs to the living room where Melanie’s mother was sitting on the couch drinking creamed coffee and smoking cigarettes while watching the Mike Douglas Show on TV.

“Hi, Mom. This is Jason, the boy from school I was telling you about. He’s Tami’s brother.”

“Hello,” she said, momentarily taking her eyes off the TV. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“Yes he is,” Melanie responded.

“Okay, well dinner will be ready in a little while. I hope you don’t mind we’re having hot dogs. It’s just a lot easier when the kids have friends over,” Melanie’s mother said to Jason.

“No, that’s great. Thanks,” he replied.

“We’ll be in my room, okay?” Melanie said.

“Okay. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

She brought Jason to her room, leaving the door open, explaining, “To be honest with you, I’ve never had a boy over, at least not since I was maybe eight years old. So I better leave the door open so my parents don’t think there’s anything nefarious going on.”

She turned on her record player and said, “Okay, you’re probably going to think I’m really dopey, but this is one of my all-time favorite songs.” She put the Atlantic 45 on the turntable, which was “Honey, Honey” by ABBA.

“Oh wow, I haven’t heard that in a long time,” Jason said.

“Yeah, really! It was played on the radio for like about two weeks in late ’74 then it was like you never heard it again. And ABBA has had a lot of big hits. I’m glad I went out and bought this when I did.”

Her mom approached her room and said, “Melanie, if you’re going to play music, please keep the door closed,” and closed the door.

Melanie’s eyes perked up and she started laughing. “Okay, Mom,” she said.

The next “favorite song” she played was “Turn the Beat Around” by Vickie Sue Robinson. “And my name is Melanie Christina Robinson! I like to think we’re distant cousins,” she told him. She held up the 45 sleeve, which had a picture of the artist.

“See the resemblance? We both have brown eyes, anyway!” she laughed, adding, “She’s prettier than I am, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t know, I think you’re cute,” Jason said.

“Thanks,” Melanie responded. “But do you think I’m pretty?”

“Sure, yes,” Jason told her. “Very much so.”

“Oh thank you,” she said as she hugged him. “I’ll stop now before I get to beautiful. I don’t want to push my luck.” Jason wasn’t sure what to make of that.

As they played records, talked and looked at pictures in her room, Melanie’s dad came home, so her mom went to the kitchen to boil up the hot dogs while her dad read the Newsweek magazine that had just come in the mail as the network news droned on from the TV.

A while later, her mom knocked on Melanie’s door and said, “Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay, Mom,” Melanie responded. They got up and went to the kitchen. Her dad was seated at the table while Mark and his friend Steve were in the basement scrubbing the grease off their hands with Boraxo before coming to the table.

“Dad, this is Jason, the boy from school I was telling you about,” Melanie said. They greeted each other and shook hands before Jason and Melanie sat down.

Melanie’s mom commented, “It’s usually Wendy she has over for dinner.”

Her father added, “Just don’t ask if he can sleep over.”

Melanie laughed while blushing. “It’s okay, I won’t,” she responded.

Jason thought to himself, “Hmm, what if she did?” Melanie thought something similar.

The table was set up with hot dogs, buns, mustard, ketchup, relish, baked beans, potato salad and glasses of grape Kool-Aid with ice.

“Well, I made this myself,” Melanie said as she held up her glass. “I made it this morning before school and added the ice to the pitcher and kept it in the refrigerator until now so it is good and cold and it tastes better than the tap water taste it has when you first make it.”

“Did you add a shot of vodka,” Mark asked.

“NO!” Melanie shot back.

The family talked about what they did that day as they usually did around the dinner table, as Jason listened while munching down.

“You seem rather quiet,” Melanie’s mother commented to Jason.

“Well,” Jason responded with a shrug, “I’m like Mister Ed. I never speak unless I have something to say. While people yackety-yak a streak and waste your time of day.” Everyone at the table busted out laughing.

Melanie put her arm around his and leaned into him, commenting, “Slowly but surely I’m getting him to open up more.”

After dinner the family watched “The $100,000 Name That Tune” on TV in the living room followed by “Welcome Back, Kotter” as Melanie and Jason sat together cross-legged on the orange shag carpeting. After Kotter, Melanie told Jason, “Okay, I really hate to say this but I got to get to my homework. I’ll walk you outside.”

On the step outside the front door, Melanie thanked him for coming, hugged and kissed him and said, “Bye, Jason. I’ll see you in school tomorrow.” While waving to him as he left, she said, “Love ya!”

Melanie went back inside with a smile, humming to herself as she washed up and went to her room to do her homework. Meanwhile, as he walked home, Jason, who wasn’t used to this kind of attention from a girl, wondered what he was getting himself into.

Magnificent Melanie, episode 2

Magnificent Melanie, episode 1

It was the spring of 1978, and new friends Melanie Robinson and Jason Lundgren were gripped with Spring Fever.

Melanie and Jason saw each other for the first time since their Saturday Pizza Hut date at school Monday morning, although they talked on the phone for over an hour on Sunday. She was a grade ahead of him, they didn’t have any classes together, so they didn’t have a whole lot of opportunities to see each other in school. Mornings before classes started were usually the best time. She hugged him and they chatted, as Jason ate something from a small plastic sandwich bag.

“What are you eating,” she asked.

“Apple Jacks cereal,” Jason replied. “I like to sleep in as long as I can, so I don’t have time to make breakfast, so I’m eating my breakfast now. Plus, it makes me look tough. If I take a bunch of them and put them inside my cheek like this…I can look like a bad ass dude with a plug of chewing tobacco.” Then he said, with his right cheek bulging out, pretending to be such a character, “Yew don’t scare me, Mister!”

Melanie laughed, and said, “ACK! Chewing tobacco! Gross!”

The other kids in school were noticing. Until then, nobody ever linked the two, but now the story was going around (thanks to Wendy and Tami) that they went out together.

Melanie enjoyed the newfound attention but was coy when asked about it out in the student smoking area behind the school. “Hmm…maybe,” she’d say when asked if there was anything between them, or “Wouldn’t you like to know!"

Jason (who wouldn't go near the smoking area) didn’t think it was anyone’s business but tried to handle it with humor. “I will not answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me,” was his response to such questions.

*****

The following Saturday, late in the morning, Melanie called up Jason and asked if he wanted to do something that day. “I have to babysit at six but I have the afternoon open,” she told him 

“Well, a friend of mine, John Rafferty, is going to be broadcasting live from the Goodyear tire store on Bellington Avenue on KPRA this afternoon. I was thinking of seeing him. We could do that.”

“A tire store? How romantic!” Melanie responded jokingly. But she knew who that disc jockey was and said, “Sure, and maybe we can check out some of the other stores around there.”

Melanie came over, her brown hair in a ponytail tied with a white ribbon. She was wearing a short-sleeved top she purchased from Casual Corner, jeans and sandals, with her ever-present leather purse over her shoulder, which she had also purchased from Casual Corner, while Jason was wearing a white T-shirt with a red Levi’s logo, non-Levi’s jeans and his blue and yellow Kinney NBA sneakers.

They walked to the tire store. The blue “920 KPRA” van was there with John Rafferty talking to people casually when he was between live cut-ins on the top-40 station. Jason came up and said, “Hey John, how’s it goin’”

“Jason! Glad you could make it,” he responded and they did a high-five. Jason introduced him to Melanie, who seemed impressed that they knew each other so well. Jason explained that he used to call in on John’s “Boogie Check” joke line segments when he used to be on another station, G/106.

“I used to call in on Boogie Check,” Melanie told them. “I was ‘Magnificent Melanie.’ I was usually babysitting and would tell some silly joke from the joke books I’d bring to my babysitting jobs. The kids just loved hearing me on the radio.”

“YES, I remember you,” John told her. “I could hear the kids in the background.”

“THAT was you?” Jason asked. “Oh wow, I never made the connection. Did you say, ‘What’s green and sings? Elvis Parsley’ one time?"

“Umm-hmm,” Melanie responded, nodding her head.

“Then I called up later and told the same joke but with the punch line ‘Frank Sin-ot,’ which sounds like snot.”

“That was YOU?” Melanie replied. “Okay, I’m going to have to give you girl germs for that!” She put her arm over his shoulder and kissed him while purposely stepping on his left foot with her sandal, over his sneaker.

“Wow! Glad you two found each other,” John Rafferty said 

“It must have been fate,” Melanie replied.

*****

After leaving the tire store parking lot, they wandered around the area, stepping into various shops, mostly just looking. Then they came to a Woolworth store, which still had a soda fountain inside.

“Hey, do you want to share an ice cream sundae with me?” she suggested. “I can’t eat an entire one myself, or at least I shouldn’t eat an entire one myself. My treat.”

“Sure,” Jason said, and they went to the counter and sat down.

As they consumed spoonfuls of ice cream and chocolate syrup together from the same glass, Jason commented, “That’s wild that you were ‘Magnificent Melanie’ on Boogie Check. I feel like I’m in the presence of a celebrity.”

Melanie laughed. “Oh, shut up! And anyway, you actually know John Rafferty. That’s pretty impressive.”

“Well, maybe we have more in common than we realize,” Jason replied. “I’m surprised you listened to G/106. I’d peg you more as a soft rock person.”

“I like all kinds of music,” Melanie told him. Then she confided, “The thing is, I don’t at all consider myself magnificent, I’m not. It’s something I made up to sort of be a character on the radio and to entertain the kids I was babysitting. I’d like to be special but I’m not. I’ve never been popular even though I try to be nice and try to please people and fit in. I think I’m reasonably smart but I’m always told I’m a ditz or an airhead or whatever. Or a goodie two-shoes.”

“I don’t give a shit about being popular with those assholes,” Jason said. “If they don’t like me, fine, I don’t care. They can just leave me the hell alone and I won’t bother them. But some of them won’t leave me alone and they harass me every damn day and I’m sick of it. So I kinda get what you’re saying. I’m only in school because I have to be.”

“I generally like school,” she said. “I like learning, I have some good teachers who have been really helpful and encouraging, and I want to go to college and learn as much as I can. But I’ve had some teachers who are just as condescending to me as some of the students are and I don’t understand why. Because I’m too nice? I’ve actually been told that.”

“You’re Magnificent Melanie. The hell with what they think,” Jason told her.

Melanie laughed but was taken aback for a moment. “Hmm. I guess that’s one way of looking at it." 

*****

As the flirtatious friendship between Melanie and Jason continued to blossom, Melanie’s girlfriends seemed to be getting a little jealous, or something. When they were together in Melanie’s bedroom one day, Wendy commented sarcastically, “Well, she doesn’t have a picture of Jason on her nightstand anyway.”

Melanie responded, “Hmm, I hadn’t even thought of that. That’s a good idea. I do have a couple of pictures of him I could put in a frame and set there.” The girls weren’t sure if she was being serious or sarcastic.

“Jason’s my younger brother,” Tami said. “There’s just something weird about it.”

“Well hey, some day we may be sisters-in-law. Can I call you Sis?” Melanie retorted.

Tami opened her mouth, stuck in her finger and went, “ACK!” Then she asked with a bit of disdain, “Do you really think you’re going to marry my brother?!”

“Anytime soon? No. In the future? Who knows. Never say never.” She dragged hard on her cigarette, exhaled and said, “Anyway, you’re the ones who set me up with him. You’re the ones who kept saying I needed a boyfriend…”

“We set you up with him as a joke,” Tami replied.

“Well I guess that joke backfired on you,” Melanie shot back. “He’s nice, he’s funny, he doesn’t push anything with me, he’s not offended that I’m usually babysitting on Saturday nights, he even enjoys hearing my babysitting stories, and I enjoy being with him. If you’re bothered by that, oh well.” Tami and Wendy looked at each other, stunned. They had never seen the usually passive Melanie get that bold.

Finally, Wendy stepped in. “Okay, girls, can we, like, talk about something else now?”

“Fine with me,” Melanie said.

“Whatever,” huffed Tami.

Melanie cracked a smile as she thought to herself, “I’m Magnificent Melanie. The hell with what they think!”

Magnificent Melanie, episode 3 

Magnificent Melanie, episode 1

When Melanie Robinson was in high school in the late 1970s, she was torn between wanting to fit in with the crowd and wanting to be her own unique self. She was considered cute with her brown hair and eyes, and her five feet, two inch stature. She had a few girlfriends but didn’t really date. Guys she knew wanted something more serious than she felt ready for and besides, she was often too busy babysitting. She was creative and artistic, and something of a kid magnet, so she got called on a lot to babysit as she saved up money for her own car. 

Her personality tended to be upbeat and positive, which annoyed some of her more cynical peers. She learned to take criticism in stride. If somebody called her “weird” or “strange,” she’d retort, “I’m just slightly unusual, okay?” She was smarter than people gave her credit for, and she had a great sense of humor, so she’d often have some hilarious comebacks to petty criticism, always with a smile and without viciousness.

She was the youngest in her family with a married sister named Donna, who was in her mid-20s and had a tendency to be a bit condescending to her, and a brother named Mark, in his early 20s, with whom she felt closer. Her father was a somewhat grumpy cigar-chomping factory foreman who dismissed her as a “goofy teenager with her head in the clouds all the time” and her mother was a homemaker who smoked a lot and tended to be aloof. She was much closer to her paternal grandmother who encouraged her artistic side and was often accused of “spoiling” her when she was growing up.

Her bedroom was her refuge. She had her bed and her vanity table, and a wicker chair she liked to sit in while reading or listening to music on her small stereo or the radio. There were candles and a soft pink bulb in her lamp and plants by her window. There was a John Travolta poster on her wall along with a few drawings she made and pictures of actors and pop stars cut from the pages of teen fan magazines. Her bookshelf still had the Little House and Nancy Drew books she grew up reading, but one of the books she was reading in high school was “It’s Okay If You Don’t Love Me” by Norma Klein. She also had stacks of Seventeen, Glamour and Vogue magazines in her room. 

As a teenager, Melanie was trying to figure herself out. Outwardly she seemed like a really nice girl, positive, upbeat, vivacious, idealistic and attractive, with an almost angelic voice. Inwardly she had a lot of insecurities and self-doubt. 

She started to come into her own in the spring of 1977, around the time she turned 16. Her hair used to be long and straight, usually pinned down with barrettes, but she got a more fashionable fluffy and bouncy hairdo around that time. She also started wearing more makeup and perfume, maybe even overdoing it a little, and she started to experiment with smoking to fit in more with her friends.

Her best friend was Wendy Jenkins, a blond, blue-eyed popular girl who was protective of Melanie. She befriended Melanie when they were in third grade. Melanie tended to be picked on and Wendy stood up for her. The boys “hated” the girls at that age and the two girls realized “girl germs” to them were like kryptonite to Superman, so they would chase after the boys, grab and kiss them on the playground, which landed the girls in trouble at school. Over the years, “girl germs” continued to be a running gag between them.

One of Wendy’s other friends was a girl named Tami Lundgren, who wasn’t all that crazy about Melanie. She thought Melanie was too much of a goodie-goodie, a little too nice and cutesy, which Melanie found rather perplexing, but took it in stride. Tami had a brother named Jason who was less than two years younger, and the more she complained about how much she couldn’t stand Melanie at home, the more curious he was about her.

Jason had his own “uniqueness.” In school he was considered a cut-up, a class clown, a smart-ass who didn’t give a damn about popularity or school for that matter. But he was actually shy and had endured a lot of bullying himself growing up. Being a class comedian was a way to endure it. At home, if he wasn’t watching TV he spent a lot of time in his room playing records and reading everything from Mad magazine to books about beer can collecting. His small group of friends were also beer can collectors, with pyramid-shaped displays of old empty cans in their bedrooms.

***** 

Melanie and Jason crossed paths for the first time on a Saturday afternoon on a winter day in early 1978. Jason was in the living room watching TV when Tami, Wendy, Melanie and a couple other girls came through the front door, talking and laughing loud, making a lot of noise. Jason was annoyed by the intrusion and turned the TV up louder so he could hear it over them. Then one of the girls came in and said “hi” to him. Jason returned the greeting but was taken aback. Tami’s friends almost never acknowledged him. Just then Wendy said, “Come ON, Melanie!” as the girls made way to Tami’s room.

“So that’s Melanie,” Jason thought to himself. The lingering scent of her perfume made him continue to think about her. About an hour later, as the girls were getting ready to leave, he tried to get another glimpse of her but they were out the door before he could say or do anything to get her attention.

But it wasn’t long before Melanie came over again as she tagged along with Wendy and the group. When she saw Jason she would say hi or at least wave to him, and sometimes they would chat briefly before “the girls” dragged her away. “The girls” thought her interest in that “kid” was another example of her weirdness.

“So, do you like him?” Tami asked, somewhat incredulously.

“Yeah, I guess so. He’s nice and sort of cute.”

The girls busted out laughing. “Oh, my god, really?! He’s too young! And anyway, girls mature faster than guys,” came the responses.

“He’s only a year or so younger and he seems more mature and smarter than most of the guys our age,” Melanie retorted. The girls didn’t have much of a comeback to that.

*****

On a particular weekend early in the spring of 1978, the girls were in Tami’s room and Jason was in his room playing records on his small stereo. On this occasion he was playing his old 45 r.p.m. singles that he had been collecting since he was six years old. 

Meanwhile, Melanie excused herself from Tami’s room to go to the bathroom. After some 60 seconds she emerged from the bathroom but instead of returning to Tami’s room she was drawn to the closed door of Jason’s room where she heard a song from about a decade earlier, “Bend Me, Shape Me” by the American Breed. When the song ended, she knocked on the door.

“Yeah?” Jason said through the door.

“Hi. Um, this is Melanie. Can I come in for a minute?”

Jason was a little taken aback. “Sure…”

“Can you play that again? I haven’t heard that song since I was, like, a little kid!”

“Okay,” Jason said and he put the needle back on record.

As the song played, she asked to look through his stack of 45s. She went through the stack, occasionally pulling one out saying, “play this…play this…play this…”

Meanwhile, after about fifteen minutes, the girls started wondering where she went. Wendy came out to investigate. She saw the bathroom was wide open, and then heard Melanie’s voice coming out of Jason’s room while the music played. Wendy went to the door, almost knocked, but decided to return to Tami’s room.

“Melanie’s in your brother’s room,” Wendy told Tami. “They’re listening to ‘60s music.”

“Ugg! Should I get her,” Tami asked.

“No, she’s okay.” Wendy responded. “I think she’s in love.”

Tami, who was sitting on the floor, busted out laughing and started to roll over. “They deserve each other!”

Shortly, Melanie returned. “So, did anything happen,” Wendy asked sarcastically.

“Hmm…maybe,” Melanie responded with a smile. “I think I need a cigarette,” she added, going for her purse. Both of the girls busted out laughing again.

“Oh, it was that good?!” Wendy chided.

“Did you know Buddy Holly wrote and recorded ‘It’s So Easy’ back in the fifties,” Melanie asked. “I had no idea. I thought that was a Linda Ronstadt song. It’s like he knows everything!”

A few days later when the girls returned to Tami’s house, Jason wasn’t there. Melanie held off a bit before finally asking, “So where’s Jason?”

“I don’t know. Out with his friends or whatever,” Tami responded.

“Oh.” Melanie said no more but her disappointment showed.

Later that evening, after Jason was home, Tami told him, “Melanie was here and she was asking about you. I think she likes you. I don’t know why, but she does.”

Jason smiled and said, “Wow, really? Cool!” It was the most interest any girl had shown in him, let alone an “older” one.

*****

On a Saturday in April 1978, the girls were once again at Tami’s house, making plans for an outing to Pizza Hut with their boyfriends. Melanie didn’t have a babysitting job that night so she was invited by Wendy to come with, but she was the only one who didn’t have anyone to go with.

Tami said sarcastically, “Maybe we should set her up with Jason. I’m sure he’s not doing anything.”

Melanie perked up. “I’m open to it! Do you think he’d want to go with me?”

“Well we could ask him!” Tami got up and walked in the direction of his room, where he was playing the “Desolation Boulevard” album from the British hard rock band Sweet. Melanie put her hands over her face and just said, “Oh-my-god, oh-my-god…”

Tami returned and Jason followed, not sure what any of this was about.

“We’re all going to Pizza Hut but Melanie doesn’t have anyone to go with. Do you wanna go with her?” Tami announced to Jason. He looked over at Melanie, who was turning beet-red and still trying to hide her face.

“Yeah, right,” he said as he turned around and started walking back.

“No, really! She wants to go with you!”

Jason looked over to Melanie skeptically and said, “Really?” Melanie nodded her head in the affirmative.

“We’re friends, right?” she asked. “It’s not like I’ll ask you to go steady or anything. But I do have a reputation for giving girl germs so you better be careful.”

She totally disarmed him. Jason started laughing and now he was the one blushing a little bit. “Okay, then. Sure. But I don’t really have any money.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tami told him. “I just HAVE to see how this is going to turn out!" 

At about twenty after six (they were supposed to be there at six), Lenny and Chuck, who were Wendy’s and Tami’s boyfriends respectively, pulled up in Lenny’s bright orange van. They didn’t bother coming to the door, they just honked the horn.

Jason followed the girls to the van. As they piled in the back, Lenny saw Jason, and asked, “What’s he doin’ here?”

“He’s Melanie’s date. Can you believe it?” Wendy told him.

“Oh. Okay.”

Jason, who was already wondering what he was getting himself into, had a worried look on his face, wondering if he should just bow out, but Melanie took his hand as they squeezed into the back seats and sat close to him. “Count On Me” by Jefferson Starship came on the radio as they made their way to Pizza Hut.

The six teenagers walked in to the restaurant, and sat down at one of the larger tables with the checkered tablecloths. Soon a waitress brought out their soft drinks in red plastic tumblers with straws and took their pizza order.

As they waited, different conversations were taking place around the table. Lenny and Chuck mostly talked about sports, particularly football. Wendy and Tami tried to engage them in other topics but soon just bantered between themselves. Meanwhile, Melanie was attempting to break the ice with Jason by telling him stories about antics she and Wendy had gotten into and some of her adventures while babysitting.

Being the youngest and the only non-smoker at the table, Jason felt a little out of place. He was a bit surprised to see Melanie light one up. (There were ashtrays right on the tables in those days.) She told him, “I only started fairly recently and I don’t smoke all that much, not nearly as much as those girls,” as she gestured toward Wendy and Tami.

Wendy chimed in. “Oh, shut up, Melanie, you smoke up a storm and you know it.”

Melanie retorted, “Oh, shut up, Wendy, I do not!” They made faces at each other and laughed. “She’s been my best friend since third grade,” she told Jason.

Jason started opening up a little more. He told her of how he had gotten into trouble a couple years earlier when he was in eighth grade for the “Bicentennial poem” he wrote. He put his hand over his heart and recited, “In seventeen-hundred-and-seventy-six, we kicked the shit out of the Brits. A nation was born, it was made clear, from George Washington to Paul Revere.”

Melanie busted out laughing. “You should write a poem for me,” she said. “On second thought, maybe not!”

Finally the pizza came. Everybody got slices on their plates while Lenny, Chuck and Jason all sprinkled hot peppers on their slices, much to the repulsion of the three girls.

*****

At the end of the evening, Lenny and Chuck dropped everyone off at Tami’s and Jason’s house. Wendy and Melanie lived within walking distance, but Wendy said to Lenny, “Hey, you could drop us off at our houses!”

“We’ve got shit to do,” he told her, and away they went in the orange van.

Before going in, Jason told Melanie, “Thanks, this was a lot of fun. I really enjoyed it, more than I thought I would actually. Well, see ya.” He waved his hand and started to walk away.

Melanie grabbed his arm, pulled him back and planted a kiss on him.

“Now you’ve got girl germs,” she told him.

Magnificent Melanie, episode 2 

Magnificent Melanie, episode 3 

Darrell & Glenn, the With-it Guys

 

Turning the clocks back to 1973, year of The Dry Look…

“Darrell and Glenn, the With-it Guys” was a single-panel comic feature syndicated to newspapers and used mostly as filler content, appearing in dozens of dailies and weekly papers in 1973. It was distributed by American Mutual Syndicate, known primarily for third-tier comic strips like “Neal the Mean” and “Swamp Rats,” and third-tier columnists such as grumpy elderly commentator Leonard Rodney Ford and a beer can collectors’ column by someone calling himself “Jacob Keglined.”

“Darrell & Glenn” featured two young men with wire-rim glasses and mustaches, with Darrell always appearing on the left side of the panel wearing short hair and sideburns and Glenn on the right with longer hair. The same images were used in every panel.

The guys mused about things going on in the current culture, staying away from heady topics such as the Watergate scandal and abortion, instead focusing on things like the Energy Crisis, interior decorating, pop-top cans, Shell No-Pest Strips, rock ‘n’ roll records and Geritol commercials.

“Darrell & Glenn” was aimed at the young adult newspaper reader at a time when newspapers tried to have something for everybody. Promotional materials from American Mutual Syndicate sent out to newspaper editors said the feature appealed to “the with-it, Now generation—men and women between the ages of 18 to 35, a target consumer of many of your advertisers. Those with-it people know what’s happening and know where it’s at. Darrell & Glenn talk to them. Straight to the point without any bunk or bull. In addition, children and teens look up to them and little old ladies think they’re ‘nice boys.’ Are you with the With-it Guys?”

It was an interesting glimpse into what was conventional wisdom in 1973, some of which hasn’t aged so well.

Remember when pay phones were important and necessary? And local calls were only ten cents? (Click the panels to enlarge.)

How the incredible, edible egg stood in what was the Year of Shortages.

 

 

Conventional wisdom in interior decorating. 

 

 

Yes, the J. Geils Band had been around for years before they recorded "Centerfold" in the early '80s.

A few newspapers that published this one received some critical letters to the editor pointing out there is no mention of the environmental hazards of those "convenient" pop top cans. Another letter writer took offense that Glenn seemed to be excluding women in his comment about them.

A since-banned insecticide product marketed by a major oil company dangled from light fixtures and ceilings in early '70s homes.

 

Referencing a controversial commercial for an iron supplement called Geritol that featured a husband saying, "My wife. I think I'll keep her." 

Another pick hit of the week. Longtime Motown artists the Four Tops had recently switched labels to Dunhill/ABC.

Confronting the Energy Crisis with a 55 MPH speed limit. This one actually received a lot of praise at the time.

A Trip at Granny's

A child's memories of his eccentric grandmother in the late 1960s.

The booze sure did flow at Grandma's house. That's where the action was. Her name was Henrietta. We kids just called her Grandma Henry. She was a big woman, a matriarchal type. She wore pointed cat-eye glasses, chain-smoked, owned a couple of street-corner bars and was not afraid to express an opinion - and shout you down if she disagreed with you.

She lived with Grandpa Jake, her second husband but in separate rooms. They had been divorced for years. Jake was a skinny, balding brewery worker who smoked air-tipped cigars and grinned a lot. He knew his place in the household. He was on the company bowling team and had a nice display of his bowling trophies.

Back in the swinging sixties, going to Grandma Henry's and Jake's house was always fun. Lots of laughter and music came out of that house, either from the old piano or from the Dean Martin records. The TV was usually on too, with the sound off when the music was playing. They had a color TV! Big, pumpkin-shaped screen with an attached stereo record player and AM-FM radio.

I remember seeing shows like My Three Sons or Bonanza for the first time in color there, with color commercials for Hunt's Tomato Catsup and L&M cigarettes, often without sound as Dean or Sammy or Frank crooned away. Sometimes Mom would play the piano, Dad would join in with his banjo and they'd sing old songs together.

In the basement was a pool table and sometimes Dad and Jake or Uncle Mitchell or somebody would be down there shooting a few games for fun. I just wondered where those numbered, colored balls went when they disappeared in the hole.

Meanwhile Aunt Pam and her friends would be in one of the upstairs bedrooms, listening to 45s on the little record player. Gary Lewis and the Playboys, Nancy Sinatra, that kind of stuff. There were always strange smells coming out of that room. Lots of giggles too.

On other visits, the card table would be out and Grandma Henry, Grandpa Jake, Mom, Dad, aunts, uncles, all the relatives would sit around it, shuffling, dealing, talking louder the drunker they got. The house would be filled with smoke, making my little eyes water.

There'd be a big platter of cheeses, meats, chips, dip and Ritz crackers to eat from. Lots of Pepsi and 7-Up as well if you were too little for a beer or vodka martini. Then came dinner. Always something good and lots of it. You didn't go hungry at Grandma Henry's house.

Hanging high above the dinner table, a gold and yellow Shell No-Pest Strip to keep the flies away. It looked like a neat toy but Grandma wouldn't let me play with it.

While the family was playing cards, and I happened to be walking by, Grandma Henry would often stop me and say "Jeffrey, would you be so kind as to bring me another beer," handing me her glass. Inevitably somebody else would say, "Oh, as long as you're headed that way…" Soon I'd be bringing everybody's drinks on a metal serving tray. It was fun though.

That's the stuff of childhood memories. My Grandma knew how to have a good time and throw a party. Perhaps she was too good at it.

When my Uncle Mitchell graduated from college, that was cause for celebration. I remember riding to Grandma's in Dad's blue '65 Ford and you could hear the festivities from down the block. Dad, Mom and I walk into the place and everybody's there. All the relatives, Mitchell's college friends, probably half the city council and mayor too. Grandma Henry always had good connections.

My parents grabbed a drink and faded into the crowd. I joined my young cousins in running around the house, up and down the stairs, in and out of the basement and jumping on the beds on second floor. Mitchell had reign of the stereo and the rockin' sounds of Iron Butterfly and Jefferson Airplane filled the house.

Pretty soon I grabbed a cookie and a couple of brownies off the big table. I noticed what looked like little bits of dried leaves in those snacks but they tasted all right so I didn't think much of it.

Before long I began to realize that in my seven short years, this was the best time I've ever had in my life. People would come up and say "How's Jeff doin'?" and I'd say "I'm having more fun than I've ever had!" and they'd say "Good for you!"

Also on the table was a punch bowl. Figuring it was just good old Hawaiian Punch, I helped myself to a glass and nobody bothered stopping me. Yuck! Pooey! There was booze in it. There just might have been something else in it as well.

I remember starting to feel a bit chilly, yet I was sweating up a storm running around the house with my cousins. My fingers and toes started to tingle pleasantly. "C'mon, Jeff! Let's play hide 'n' seek," said my cousin Doug and it sounded as though he was talking through a chamber.

Around the house the laughter got louder and the music got weirder but I only vaguely thought about that. I was just having the greatest time of my life and that was all that mattered.

I looked up and saw hanging from a window these yellow and orange daisy-patterned curtains. They were probably always there but I had never noticed them until now. And what a beautiful and fascinating work of art that I had been neglecting all this time, I thought, at least in the way a seven-year-old would articulate that.

I looked in all directions of the room, observing my surroundings and realizing what a splendidly bright, colorful world I was in. People were coming up, stooping down to talk to me and their faces seemed somehow bigger than the rest of their bodies. Bigger than life, really. Maybe it was just the angle at which I was looking at them.

Again the color TV was on with the sound off. What was on? Some variety show, I think. There was some lavish dance number where everybody was wearing these gaudy, colorful costumes.

The whole idea of color TV was fascinating to me because all we had at home was a black and white portable set with a broken aerial and it tended to make a buzzing sound. Color TV was so neat. I wanted to become better acquainted with it.

I looked closely at the screen. The lavish dancers with the gaudy costumes faded into vast dimensions of red, blue and green dots. Then there were the knobs below the channel changer. What do they do? One made everyone's faces turn bright red or bright yellow. Another made the faces blue or green. I played with the knobs, manipulating the colors in so many different ways. Nobody was telling me no, and in fact some of Uncle Mitchell's college friends seemed as fascinated as me. I heard one of them say "You've invented psychedelivision, man."

When I finally decided to find something else to do, one of the college guys started playing with the knobs. I wandered into the kitchen. The kitchen seemed much more vast than I ever remembered it to be. Grandma Henry was in there fixing more snacks for the partiers. I asked her for a glass of water and when I spoke, I felt as though I was under water.

Furthermore, she didn't seem to understand what I was saying. She kept going "Huh? What?" I pointed to the faucet and she finally got the drift. When Grandma Henry handed me the glass of water she suddenly looked scarier than I had ever seen her before. Those cat-eye glasses and bulging eyes actually frightened me. The wrinkles on her face looked deep and I saw sprouts of hair in them. Her long fingernails looked like claws. I took my glass of water, turned my head and got away from there.

The night continued on as I explored this whole new world at Grandma's house until….the police came. They just walked right in and swept everyone away. At first I thought they wouldn't notice me or that I was too young to get arrested but they took me and the rest of the kids as well.

The next thing I remember is waking up in my bed at home. The sun was shining through my window as it did every morning. But looking around my bedroom, it seemed to be spinning ever so slightly.

I called for my mom. I asked her, what happened at Grandma Henry's last night.

"It was just a dream. Forget about it," she said.

"But I remember…."

"I said forget about it!"

Later on, if I said "Mom, remember when I had that dream about…." she'd always say "Forget about it, Jeff. Just forget about it."

Ho Ho He Ha Ha Shake

   A favorite treat of children of the 1950s and ’60s that today’s kids will never get to enjoy is the Ho Ho He Ha Ha shake. With a colorful clown face on the special wax-coated paper cups in which it was served, the Ho Ho He Ha Ha shake was sold at the concession stands at fairs, carnivals and amusement parks. A little more expensive than a regular soft drink, the shakes sold for 25 cents for a regular size cup, 35 cents for a large. 

   The Ho Ho He Ha Ha shake was not a milk shake. It was a whipped non-dairy treat made from pork lard mixed with water to make it more fluid, sugar and sodium cyclamate to make it super-duper sweet, dashes of vanilla and nutmeg for flavoring, unpronounceable chemicals for preservative and more flavoring, and yellowish food coloring so it wouldn’t look so disgusting. 

   Advertising placards featured the silly-looking clown, and claimed, “It’s so rich, so thick, so dog-gone dee-licious, it will make you say Ho Ho He Ha Ha!” A large plastic clown head, lighted from the inside, revolved around and around on top of the mixing and dispensing machine from behind the counter at the stands where it was sold. 

   When you got one of these things, you could feel the heaviness, like getting a cup of wet cement or something. And it felt like cement when it hit your gut as well. The pork lard would coat your entire mouth and throat and if you tried to wash it down with a cold drink, it would just harden the greasy residue. Hot water was more effective but on a summer day at the fair, who’d want to drink that? I also heard that the mixing and dispensing machines were a real bitch to clean out.

   Many kids learned the hard way going on a ride after consuming a Ho Ho He Ha Ha shake wasn’t such a good idea. My cousin Cindy, at about eight years old, ended up puking one up after riding the Tilt-A-Whirl at the amusement park.

   The Ho Ho He Ha Ha shake was created in 1953 by Frank Bollock, manager of a hog slaughterhouse, who was trying to find new ways to market the surplus lard on hand. After trying a few different experiments with the animal fat, he put some in the new electric blender he had just purchased for his wife, added a cup of water, a cup of sugar, dashes of vanilla and nutmeg and blended it into a nice, creamy drink which he served to his children for desert.  

   He brought his concoction to an associate at Consolidated Confections Company, which immediately looked at ways to market the stuff. Here the recipe was changed a bit, with chemicals added for preservative, flavor and color, and to mask an unpleasant smell, and the fairly new synthetic sweetener sodium cyclamate was blended along with the sugar to make it even more sweet and tasty, without adding extra calories. 

   As for the packaging and marketing, it was decided that a clown would be a more appropriate mascot than say, a pig. While they wouldn’t go out of their way to make it a secret that the shakes were made from pork lard, they didn’t really want to draw attention to it either. A clown, on the other hand would be a colorful, fun attention-getting device, and in those days anyway, clowns were among the favorite characters of children.

   Silly laughter is associated with silly clowns and so the name Ho Ho He Ha Ha was decided on for this highly sweetened non-dairy shake. Initially the marketers at Consolidated Confections considered calling it the Har Dee Har Har shake, but they feared a potential lawsuit from Jackie Gleason.

   By the mid to late 1950s, the Ho Ho He Ha Ha shake was being sold as a cold treat at carnivals, fairs, amusement parks and summertime events all over the country. It was a natural for circuses, with the clown theme. By the early 1960s, several new discount department stores began selling Ho Ho He Ha Ha shakes at their in-store snack bars, making it the exclusive retail store outlet for the treats. 

  The shakes were anything but healthy, they were junk food in the highest degree. But in those days, Americans as a whole weren’t nearly as health-conscious, and not nearly as anal about protecting their children from every little risk. It was a special treat you bought for your kid at fun events, and if your kid got sick, well that’s childhood. 

   The first major blow to the Ho Ho He Ha Ha shake came in 1969 when the Food and Drug Administration banned the use of cyclamate due to an alleged, though not proven cancer-causing risk. The shakes didn’t quite taste the same with just sugar, nor did they when saccharin, then not yet federally regulated, was blended in.

    Meanwhile, consumer advocates began targeting the Ho Ho He Ha Ha shake as being especially unhealthy for children with all the fat, cholesterol, sugar, artificial sweeteners and chemicals. Articles condemning the shakes appeared in medical journals and in women’s magazines, and a campaign was underway to ban them.

   Bowing to the public pressure, Consolidated Confections Company announced in 1973 that they would withdraw and discontinue the sale and marketing of the Ho Ho He Ha Ha shake by 1975. The mixing and dispensing machines with the lighted revolving clown head quickly disappeared from concession stands, as did the clown-face paper cups, virtually unchanged in design since the 1950s.

   Pork lard shakes are no longer available anywhere and there is little public demand for them. However, the Ho Ho He Ha Ha clown still brings tinges of nostalgia to many baby boomers, and occasionally the old paper cups turn up on eBay, usually drawing in several bids, as well as the advertising placards. Much more rare are the plastic clown heads, as most of them were destroyed by the company when the machines were withdrawn, but a few have turned up, often going for well over a thousand dollars. 

Kathy and the Kid

 

Audio book version can be found here

  It was March 1986. Kathy Johnson had just moved in to a small but comfortable unit in the Manor Royale apartment complex. At age 22, her marriage to "Mister Wonderful" had fallen apart. When she couldn't take the drinking, verbal abuse, controlling and running around by her husband anymore, she packed as much as she could into her small car and left, getting away as far as she could. They had no children, so it was easy enough to break away.

     As she slowly got settled in, she had lots of mixed emotions. She was now completely alone. She didn't miss her estranged husband too much, and she liked being able to finally do things for herself and make her own decisions, but she was also lonely. She didn't really know anybody in the city she moved to, and she wasn't ready to start dating again. She landed a second shift job at a factory doing light assembly and packing boxes, which kept the bills paid, but it was a rather dark, depressing, restrictive work environment where the people weren't particularly friendly. She wasn't Kathy, she was Employee #2281.

     She would get home at around 11:30 at night, watch some late night TV for a few hours, go to bed, get up again the next day and if she didn't have to go grocery shopping or run some other errand, she'd sit in her apartment, watch TV, sip black coffee, eat, and smoke cigarettes. Lots of them. Then, later in the day, go back to work at her less than thrilling job.

     There were a lot of kids at the Manor Royale apartments where she lived. Some were from in-tact families but a lot of them were from divorced or otherwise single parent households. Like 12-year-old Jacob Petersen, who lived with his mother a couple floors down.

     Technically he was living with his mother but in the grand scheme of things he was fending for himself because she wasn't home very often. She got up early for work and came home late, and she had a social life too. But Jacob was rather mature and responsible for his age, and could get up, get dressed and get to school on time, and then come home and heat up his own frozen dinners in the oven. He had a few friends that he sometimes hung out with after school, and for the most part they stayed out of trouble. A big motivation for Jacob to stay out of trouble was to prove to his mother he didn't need a stinkin' babysitter at age 12.

     Kathy started to notice Jacob a lot when summer came, and school was out. Sometimes he and his friends were coming and going in and out of each other's apartments or roaming up and down the halls or doing something outside, but a lot of times Jacob was by himself, especially during the day on weekdays, because his friends had other activities going on.

     Kathy knew nothing about the kid, but she wondered about him. She sensed he was neglected and maybe as lonely as she was. Seeing him around stirred some maternal feelings in her, thinking about how nice it would be to have a son or daughter and how she would be a much more loving, nurturing parent to this kid than his own mother apparently was. She found herself thinking about him while engaged in her tedious, redundant tasks at work.

     Finally, when she saw him late one morning hitch-hiking on Highway 612 about a half-mile from the apartments, she hit her breaks.

     "Get in here! Now!" she ordered.

     "Okay," the kid said with a relieved smile as he opened the door and went into the front passenger seat. But Kathy only pulled up a little further to the side of the road while traffic zoomed by.

     "Just what do you think you're doing," she demanded.

     "I'm just trying to get home,” Jacob said. “I live at the Manor Royale apartments. They're just over…"

     "I know where you live,” Kathy interrupted. “I see you around there all the time. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to hitch-hike? Any idea?! You could be hit by a car, or, you don't know who's going to pick you up, or where they're going to take you or what they might do to you. You could be kidnapped, you could be slaughtered or who knows what could happen to you!" She pulled a Benson & Hedges cigarette from her purse and lit up.

     "Sorry!" the kid said.

     Kathy took the cigarette from her mouth and exhaled. "Oh, you're sorry. Is that all you have to say? If you were my kid you'd be getting a spanking from me and I don't care how old you are!"

     She shifted the car into drive and got back on the highway. "So, is your mom home right now? Or do you even have a mom?" Kathy's voice dripped with sarcasm as she asked this.

     "My mom is working. She won't be home 'til at least six."

     "Oh, of course. Why am I not surprised?"

     After about a minute, Kathy finally started to calm down. "I'm Kathy, by the way. What is your name?"

     "Jacob."

     "Have you had lunch yet, Jacob?"

     "Not really…"

     "I'll tell you what. I'll make you lunch. Do you like grilled cheese?"

     "Sure."

     "Good. So do I."

     It was coming up on noon when Kathy brought Jacob up to her apartment. She fixed him and herself a grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of milk, and while he wasn't real talkative, she got him to open up a little.

     "So are your parents divorced?" she asked him.

     "Yeah, for about three years. I was nine, I guess. I don't see my dad much at all anymore, and my mom works and goes out a lot and stuff. But I can take care of myself," he told her.

     "Well, I'm sure divorce can be pretty hard on a kid,” she replied. My parents are still together but I'm in the process of getting a divorce. I'm glad I don't have kids because of the circumstances, but I also wish I had kids, if that makes any sense?"

     "So why are you getting divorced?"

      "My husband is such a turd," she laughed. "He would tell me he loves me so much, then he would come home drunk and start screaming at me about what a stupid bitch I am, how I don't satisfy his desires as much as I should and I'm just so lucky he married me. Then he'd go sleep with some co-worker or pick up some chicky-babe in a bar. He could be mean, he could be sarcastic, but he could also be charming, and I fell for it. Well I hope he's happy now!"

     She finished her glass of milk and lit a cigarette. "He also got me smoking. I never smoked until after I started dating him when I was 19. I was always one of the good girls in high school who didn’t smoke."

     All Jacob could say was "Wow." She had gone from talking to him like a child when she picked him up, to talking to him as if he were another adult. But she was desperate for someone to talk to and confide in, and Jacob was pretty mature for his age.

     Jacob in turn told her about his life, his friends, and his mother who wasn't around all that much, either working or going out and sometimes coming home drunk. He then said facetiously, "I wonder if my mom has met your husband."

     Kathy laughed. "Well she can have him! I would gladly trade him for you. If you were my kid, I would put you first in my life, and love you, and take care of you and be there for you."

     They continued to talk until Kathy glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh my God! I'm going to have to get ready for work right now or I'm going to be late. Thank you so much for talking to me, Jacob. I've really enjoyed this."

     She walked him to the door. "I work evenings but I'm usually home during the day. So if you want somebody to talk to, I'm here for you." She hugged him, and then looked him in the eye. "And don't you dare ever hitch-hike again!"

     It would be another week before Jacob took Kathy up in her offer to visit her, but they did say hi to each other when they saw each other in and around the apartment complex. On one occasion, she greeted Jacob while he was hanging with a couple of his friends.

     "Stop by and see me some time," Kathy said as she walked off.

     "Who was that?" his stunned friend Joel asked. "She's nice!"

     "Oh, just the lady in 308," Jacob replied.

     The next day, a little after 10:30 in the morning, Jacob came up to 308. Kathy invited him in and gave him a hug, and a kiss on the forehead. They sat in the living room and talked, and then Jacob asked with some trepidation, "Can I sit with you, Kathy?"

     Kathy's eyes widened. "Well of course." She patted the spot next to her on the couch. "Come over here."

     Jacob found that Kathy was willing to give him something he was lacking in his life and didn't realize he craved, and that was physical affection. His mother was not a particularly affectionate person and tended to push him away when he was younger and tried to get close to her. Kathy was very touchy-feely and was craving it herself.

     As summer rolled on, Kathy and Jacob were spending more time together. She would make him lunch, or at least a snack, and they would spend a few hours together in the air-conditioned comfort of her apartment unit during the hot, humid summer. They cuddled together on the couch, sometimes rocking back and forth like a mother and baby, or he would lay his head in her lap while she read a paperback or watched TV or talked on the phone, with her free hand stroking his chest. Sometimes she’d lean over and give him a kiss.

     When she would talk on the phone to her mother or friends from the old neighborhood while Jacob was with her, they commented that she sounded more relaxed and contented than she had been for a long time. She would just say that things were getting better and she was meeting new friends, without elaborating.

     Then around late August, Kathy casually mentioned to Jacob that her soon-to-be-ex husband got her number and was starting to call her. "He wants to have dinner with me," she said. "I'm not really crazy about it. But I don't know. Maybe I should just meet up with him once to hash things out as the divorce becomes final."

     Jacob thought that sounded a little fishy, but as negative as she was about her husband, he assumed that would indeed be the extent of it.

     Then, after a while, Kathy didn't seem to be at home as much. Jacob would knock on her door or call her only to get no answer, or if she did answer, she never had much time.

     Finally one day, she invited him over. He came to her apartment to find much of her belongings boxed up. It was obvious she was getting ready to move.

     "I'm getting back together with my husband," she said enthusiastically. "Isn't that great?"

     Jacob was stunned. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why? I thought you said your husband was a big turd. That he was mean to you and liked to get drunk…"

     "He promised he would change for me because he really does love me, and that's all that matters. I have to change for him too, that's the deal, but he said he loves me!"

     "Well…" Jacob said, and then paused to collect his thoughts. "Can I have your new number so we can still talk? Or your address so we can write to each other. I love to write letters…"

     "No, I don't think that's going to work out," she told him. "I mentioned you to him, and he wasn't too happy about you coming over, even if you are only 12. He says it's another one of my dumb ideas that I need to stop, and I guess he's sort of right."

     Jacob felt like he had just been punched in the gut. "I'm a dumb idea?!"

     "I didn't say that, Jacob."

     "Going back to your husband is a dumb idea, Kathy. A stupid idea! Why are you doing this?"

     "Well I'm sorry you feel that way," Kathy responded. She lit a cigarette as she tried to mask her own feelings. "Anyway, I'm going to have to let you go now. I need to finish packing," she said.

     She walked him to the door and gave him a brisk hug. "Bye, Jacob. It's been fun." She pushed him out the door and locked it behind him.

     A few days later, the unit where Kathy dwelled for six months became available for rent again, even though she had to pay a rather high fee for breaking her lease. Her renewed relationship with her husband only lasted a few months until she moved out again, and moved in with a new boyfriend. A few years later, with a different boyfriend, she became pregnant and nine months later gave birth to a son. She named him Jacob.