My First Kiss

I was not quite nine yet in the early Spring of 1961 when I was informed the family was attending and taking part in the marriage of my oldest brother to the sister of the mayor of Indianapolis., Dick Lugar. He would later make a career in the U.S. Senate.

I was not impressed. I knew it would mean hours being dragged through several department stores while my mother outfitted me with just the right clothes. All I could foresee was boredom and too many adults in my business.

My attitude changed dramatically when we walked into the posh Severin Hotel in downtown Indianapolis. The lobby was incredible. It had high arched ceilings with the biggest chandelier I had ever seen dangling in the middle of it. Guys in uniforms stood near the front desk with their gloved hands clasped waiting for luggage to lug. Sharply attired men with flowers in their lapels stood behind a massive white granite counter and responded to people checking in and checking out. It was an awesome sight. 

After we had settled in at the hotel, we were "summoned" to a banquet room to, as Mom put it, "Pay Homage to Hoosier Royalty". She followed up with softly uttered expletives attesting to what comprised the upper crust in Indiana. My dad told her to cool it, while knowing she was just getting warmed up. Sparks had flown between her and Ann's mother the first time they met, months ago. Bertha had the nerve to be dismissive of my mom who was herself  Royalty, but from the Bay Area in California. 

We went into the cavernous banquet room and sat down. I could tell there was a cloud amassing already as the only thing in my mom's sight was Bertha Lugar as she made her entrance with the kind of flourish only someone heavy with self importance could. She smiled graciously at everyone she passed. Then she locked eyes with Mom. She smiled even more broadly and stopped. They exchanged strained but polite niceties while my dad sat rigid and uncomfortable in the presence of these two Grande Dames.The exchange of judgmental glares only lasted a moment and then Bertha was back on track. She preceded to rule over a scheduling meeting among the hired help and wedding party members regarding all the pomp and circumstance they would be expected to attend or stay away from. She scared the shit out of me.

The next morning, the children of the wedding party and guests who were staying at the hotel were corralled, put in a limo and driven to a Lugar affiliated house somewhere in a neighborhood of mansions. A woman wearing what I think now was a kind of servant outfit took charge of the six or seven of us for the day. Our presence was restricted to the yard, the porches, a big room next to the kitchen, and the kitchen itself. Absolutely no wandering around inside without an adult escort.

That poor woman had her hands full for sure. She did her best, but soon discovered she needed to focus more on the smaller snotty noses than myself and a dark haired girl named Kim. We were allowed outside and reminded to not leave the yard. The immense yard was surrounded on three sides by a thick border of manicured woods. It would be enough to satisfy our curiosity that day.

When we had been introduced back at the hotel, we both grunted at each other and looked anywhere but at each other. The fact that Kim was a girl and a stranger allowed me to ignore her without guilt. I was pleased when it appeared Kim felt the same. After all, girls were yucky. No good came from interacting with them. They always got me in trouble for one thing or another. So, we kept a mutual distance from one another that first hour. I will always regret that wasted hour.

We would argue later who first saw the tree in the back yard. It was the perfect climbing tree. Long rugged branches wide enough to walk on hands free if one dared. It was also as tall as it was wide, with top growth that would challenge even the most expert of tree climbers.

I was the first one to climb on board. After some hemming and hawing, Kim scrambled up like she was born to it. I found out later, her hesitation was because she was wearing a new dress and brand new Mary Jane's on her feet. I was also clothed in new duds and shoes, but well, I always prided myself in how fast I could break them in. Nothing did it faster than climbing a tree.

The activity of climbing broke our initial silence and we , or maybe it was me who started bragging about how I was the best tree climber on my street back in Maryland. Kim answered that challenge by climbing right by me.

A girl was not going to best me, the champion climber of Augusta Street. I took off after her. At some point I remember feeling my butt begin to pucker as the branches I was putting my faith in became scrawnier and scrawnier. I was a couple of feet higher than Kim, so I stopped. The look on my face must have told her I had hit my limit. She smiled and carefully with determination, climbed until she was a head above me. 

It was at this point, the nice lady looking after us hollered that lunch was ready. I will always remember the look on Kim's face and how it looked like I felt. Now we were going to have to climb down. For a moment, we were both cats stuck in a tree looking for any way out. 

The lady in charge spotted us swaying in the upper branches of that tree and immediately became hysterical. Her blathering only made the two of us more nervous which prolonged our failure to locate the balls we needed to actually begin our descent. 

I remember swaying in that tree long enough to consider it might be a firetruck and laughing firemen getting us down. That thought combined with the earlier embarrassment of a girl managing to out climb me put a fire under me. She wasn't going to beat me down. By the time I reached the ground, I decided she was as cool as any boy I ever knew. We cemented our friendship while being restricted to the porch the rest of the visit. The woman brought out a card table and dumped a ga-zillion piece puzzle on it. Kim and I talked the afternoon away and did some respectable damage to that huge puzzle.

Over the next couple of days, we became inseparable. During and after the Rehearsal dinner, we discovered that the last thing on any adult's mind was what their kids were up to. I discovered my first pleasures of Anarchy. We became sneak thieves who existed under tables clad in white cloth and fancy candles. We rode elevators  just to keep the operators busy. We had a blast.

After the wedding and just before the ceremonial toss of the Bridal bouquet, Kim challenged me to try to catch it. And I did, snatching it right out of the hands of an unmarried friend of the bride. Everyone laughed. I was pulled out of the crowd and the bouquet was tossed again. In the meantime Grande Dame Lugar snagged me and promised severe grief on my part if I did not behave. Kim stood by, her hands clasped, innocent and polite with a shit eating grin on her face. Mrs. Lugar shot her an angry glare.

"I know you had something to do with it. I will deal with you later." 

Kim's face went from that irritating cat ate the canary look to a face of real fear. Mrs Lugar was obviously a dangerous matriarch. You don't cross her. She was my mom with a different hairdo.

The reception fired up and was in full swing when Kim nudged me and pointed to the table holding many glasses of champagne. The champagne distribution tables were near a back wall in the banquet hall. Waiters came in a regular flow to refill their empty trays and drop any empty glasses they had. One person was in charge of filling the glasses and lining them up for pick up. There were moments when the table was unattended while the pouring attendant disappeared through a door with trays of empty glasses, then coming out with more champagne and clean glasses.

Right next to the tables, chairs had been set up along the wall so the folks making merry could take five between their manic moments of revelry. Kim's plan was to wait for our chance and when no one was looking, climb under the table and snatch glasses when ever we could. 

The plan worked flawlessly. I am not sure how long we were under that table, but it was at least long enough to drink several glasses of champagne each. We snickered and laughed. We kissed. It was awkward and I felt very odd after. I wonder if it was the booze or the kiss. I would never know, for we were discovered and routed out from under that table. The rest of that night was an unpleasant blur of spinning rooms and puke for me as I guess it was probably the same for Kim. 

My mom wouldn't talk to me the next day until we landed at National Airport in Virginia, across the Potomac River from Washington, DC.

__________________________

I started trying to find a tune about first kisses. Didn't like any of the ones I picked out. I realized this story ended up being more about early transitions, including that first kiss. It was also the first time I got shitfaced at a wedding. Weddings would later become tough events for me to deal with when there was an open bar. This trip to Indianapolis was also a trip of discovery. Girls could be cool and there were other mothers even scarier than mine. A life event that helped me on my way.

So here is "Light My Fire", by The Doors. The connection to the tale might be tenuous, but it made sense to me at the time.