Blue was one of those shy, quiet types in high school. The strong, silent type he even rode a motorcycle. He was such an ideal mix of beauty and masculinity. He was rather like this young man pictured here, James Dean, actor (February 8, 1931 – September 30, 1955)
You couldn’t help but notice his nice smile, head full of gorgeous curls, and big beautiful blue eyes. Lastly, he was quite muscular and he wore a black leather motorcycle jacket when he was on his bike. He rode that thing everywhere, to the mountains and to the beach, from town to town as we headed to the predictable weekend house party. That’s what teenagers did then. Got together, bought a keg and listened to each others bands. Golden years to be sure.
Blue’s name came up recently when two of his old girlfriends together with a few other women friends including me. It was one of those rare occasions when women take time to get together and enjoy feminine energy exclusively. It wasn’t a weekend getaway to find men or partners of any sort. It was simply a time for reminiscing and asking the age old question, “What ever happened to …”.
All of us really perplexed, even shocked, when two of our gang revealed they had each dated Blue in high school and recounted two entirely different experiences. One found him abusive and they fought constantly. It got physical, to be sure, and it set up a pattern in this woman’s adult life. She later wound up in a home for battered women.
The other woman found him to be easy going, peaceful and basically a sweet boy. She was obviously the most shocked from the revelation. Listening to the conversation, her eyes darted around, her mind was racing. How would she ever be able to reconcile these two completely different sides of Blue? How would any of us?!
We still don’t talk about any of it. That in itself is a tad disturbing to me. In fact, I’d go so far as to say we even seem to be avoiding one another. None would admit it, but we would we be left with the “elephant in the room” before anyone could move forward.
At any rate, Blue died during our Junior year on his motorcycle, with a friend on the back. I hope their spirits are in a peaceful place now. One where transportation is fun and safe.
We will never know what kind of man Blue might have become. Would he have been gentle or brutal? Kind or harsh? I do like to imagine he would have found someone to co-exist with peacefully, if not happily. Because after all, isn’t that all we can really ask for? Peaceful co-existence. Yeah, that’s it. Peaceful coexistence. A concept whose time has truly come.