In writing of my life before Houston this morning, I am reminded of a few things that still give me pause for consideration.
On the bus between Christian school and the YMCA where we went for physical education in the winter, I was seated beside EF, a fourth-grader, a year behind me in school, but only a few months younger than I. Carved into the back of the seat was the the four-letter "F" word. She asked me if I knew what it meant, then told me that she did as well. Her brother -- eighth or ninth grade -- had explained it to her and they had done it.
The preacher's son stood in the front of the church and confessed to the sin of adultery -- but I didn't know what it meant at the time.
In my second year of church college, I took "potluck" on a new roommate as my roommate from the prior year had not returned to school. She was a stranger to me, but my best friends all knew her by reputation as the best lay in town. Among my friends at college, there was no discussion of personal morality, or sexual escapades. My assumption was that everyone was waiting for marriage -- well except my roommate perhaps. Personally, I figured her reputation was greatly exaggerated as I knew for a fact she wore kleenex in her bra. She also usually changed clothes in the restroom. I do recall that we went riding around one night and picked up a couple of guys. The one in the front with me was an engaged guy in my speech class. We drove a little into the country and parked and kissed a bit and he said "Let's get it together." I still am not sure exactly what that meant, and I have no knowledge of what went on in the back seat. I said, "No, let's get back to the dorm."
My only date, in the time before I left home for Houston, was during Dutch treat week at college. I asked out Mr. Irrisistible -- yeah, that was his title. I treated him to dinner at a nice restaurant and took him to the school dance. At the end of the evening, he gave me a tract on becoming a Christian.
I also remember having a knowledge and fantasies of unusual sexual acts at an early age, gleaned from...I don't know. I never spoke of them with anyone. They were almost not a part of me. I wrote a snippet once and put it in the case of my diary. My mother found it and confronted me with it. I still see her with the paper in her hand; the look of horror and fear on her face.
...and as I write this, I tear up, and what that is about, I also do not know.
I moved to Houston in 1974. I looked up the preacher from a Presbyterian church when I arrived and a few days later, I was moving into an apartment with his daughter. I continued going to church twice on Sunday. I continued to hear Thou shalt not commit adultery at least once a week. My community was changing though. I went to a university three times the size of my hometown. I worked at Sears on South Main -- with blacks, hispanics, asians, people who still lived the confederacy -- a very diverse group -- some married having affairs, some divorced.
more...no judgments, just me getting things out of my head
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| Sexual morality -- Part 2 |
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