Category Archives: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

How Will I Know?…continued


After thinking all day about this blog during my exhausting and heated

pursuit of a basic salary, in a brainless occupation, I came up with my

best excuse for my behavior from teenager-hood until now.

I slept with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid!

I lived in the dormer of an older house in a small town famous for infamous

people. My father took finishing wooden strips to attach the poster bought

shortly after watching that movie a total of ten times in one month! I also

blame my parents for allowing us to go four Saturdays in a row and staying

through at least 2-3 showings of that movie.

What were they thinking allowing our fresh and innocent minds to absorb such

inappropriate information? We were teenagers watching runaway bank robbers

with the most handsome faces! We saw one of them share sleeping quarters with

their beautiful accomplice repeatedly!

Along with this negative influence on our lives we lived in the same town as

the “Fugitive.”   He was an osteopathic doctor at our local osteopathic

hospital. (No longer in existence.) He also was portrayed innocent of killing

his wife, you know the one armed man was guilty!  Again, by a tortured and

handsome actor, again: BAD influence!

I went to school with Michael Heaton, who writes as the King of Pop Culture

for the Cleveland Plain Dealer. He has written a recent screenplay for a real

life story that will appear on Hallmark in the winter months, I believe. But

you can check my facts on this. He was fairly quiet and had beautiful hair

and eyes. I do remember sitting in a few classes with him, but we were not of

the same circle of friends. I carried out the position of Index Editor of the Bluebook

(our yearbook) so I did have occasion to study his pictures. His sister was between

my two brothers and did not appear in our yearbooks, but she is the famous

Debra in “Everybody Loves Raymond” and the equally famous Frankie in “The


Our small town has a restaurant now in the Huntington Playhouse and Huntington

Arts (used to be called Baycrafters) area. Patricia Heaton’s sister opened “Vento’s”

and it is a wonderful addition to our neighborhood.

Anyway, sorry about sidetracking, but I have been addicted to the idea of fame and

curious about the ways it all affects us. We are even more addicted to it than while I

grew up. The current tweeting and flow of famous celebrity watching has gotten

more carried away than all the Partridge Family and Monkees information we all

absorbed from our teen and Beat magazines.

Dear old Paul and Robert were hung above my head from 1969-1978 upon taking it

down after marrying my college sweetheart. Every night I would say a prayer that I

would find love, adventure and possibly a bad boy who had a warm heart. “Raindrops

Keep Falling on My Head” would play and I would see the endearing Paul on his bicycle

with Katherine Ross (a.k.a. Robin) riding on the handlebars.

Anyway, I met my next love (Billy, S.V., science club guy, now…) at can you believe this

luck?… Mc Donald’s! First day of college, my h.s. friend and roommate, Ellen and I walked

across the street from our dorm after our respective parents drove off in their station wagons

with our brothers in them. We were watching these four guys who were playing this ‘beat the

clock’ game trying to say, (you know the words) “Two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce,

cheese on a sesame seed bun” before the time went out to win a FREE Big Mac! My eyes were

drawn to a mustached, shaggy dirty blonde haired handsome young man with beat up jeans

and a v-necked t-shirt exposing lots of curly brown chest hair.

None of my previous 3 “loves” had hair on their chest! Wow! Almost Robert Redford combined with

Paul Newman since he had bright blue eyes.

Again, curse that poster and all it made me hope and dream about!

We ended up sitting with these wild boys who may or may not have already drank or smoked, because

they clearly had hit the huge “munchies” stage. And, much to my roommate’s dismay, I knew little of

these pursuits. She had worked at a gas station while I had worked at a country club the summer before

college. Her experiences allowed her more sexual knowledge and familiarity with the first question they

asked us, “Do you girls like to party?” Well, unknowing of the variations that phrase could mean, I

enthusiastically answered for the both of us, “Oh, yes! I love to dance!” Ellen grabbed the edge of my

shirt sleeve and I turned my head to see her rapidly shaking her head at me.

I excused us to the ladies’ rest room to discuss the slightly angry look she was giving me. Ellen said

I did not know the meaning of their question and proceeded to educate me about those words. Okay,

I would go back and say we did NOT like to party. But could we do it by not alienating them?

We ended up in the boys’ dorm hall sitting outside waiting for them to set up their stereo system, get

their varied refreshments ready and feeling kind of excited about the prospect of new experiences.

Like the other stories, this one ends with a happy ending, although followed by a less than happy


I dated him for four years, married one month after college with much protestation from my parents.

They told me repeatedly to go out and search the world, get a teaching job, have a female roommate,

and not conform to the sixties perception of finding a husband in college. My mother went to Europe

and was in graduate school when she met my father. She did not rush into maariage nor did she march

for women’s rights to see me go down this path. Like a fellow blogger recently said, he blames the search

for happy endings on movies (and t.v.) with their unrealistic portrayal of the after effects. But we all tend

to follow the path our hearts choose rather than our minds.

The next chapter of searching for a Man begins with children and in a different  town.

Are you a “lister of things?”


When you see those words, do you think, “Does she mean listener

of things?”

You would be good at looking and analyzing the roots of words then.

Most people breeze through the texts (whether it is fiction, non-fiction,

the newspaper or whatever set of the written word you are looking at)

and miss some of the meanings.

I bet because you do this all day, you may not really “listen” to the words.

I am a “lister” who makes lists and posts them around my apartment. When

I had a desk, it would have huge lists. When I was a special education

preschool teacher, my assistant and I would try to knock off each of the

numbers on the “get done before the weekend” list! Thanks, Karen!

Sometimes everyone is a lister. Lists of groceries, lists of “to do”

activities or  chores planned to the minute detail of life. Whole calendars

packed to the brim with lists, places to go and things to do.

I think the most beautiful words I ever read were of Max Ehmann’s


I used to sleep in a house gable and on the slanted ceilings I had three

large posters that my Dad took finishing wood strips and framed.

One was a turtle drawn simply with the words below it,

“Behold the turtle, he only makes progress when he sticks his neck out.”

Reminds me of Confucius, zen and philosophy class now.

I had a poster that was on many young girl’s walls in the 70’s of

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I hope there will be readers

someday who will appreciate the handsomeness of those two

men portrayed by Paul Newman and Robert Redford. I had a lot

of pleasant daydreams and thoughts about them!

Lastly, I had a long and delicately scrolled creamy antiqued look

poster with the  beautiful poem, “Desiderata.”

If you haven’t checked out those words and you have lived awhile

without hearing them, read them, try to live them.

“Go placidly amidst the noise and haste…”

This is a very important and true list of how to live your life.

Just as appropriate and current in 2013, as it was in 1927.