When I was not quite fifteen years old, the movie "The Graduate" was released. I wanted to see it. I needed to see it. It was very, very important to me.
My mother didn't agree. And one of the many problems my mother had was her inability to own her decisions. Her only explanation as to why I couldn't go?
"Because I said so."
Okay, raise your hand if you were ever an adolescent. Thanks, I see you out there.
Now, raise your hand if you would be satisfied with that explanation.
Yeah, just as I thought. Literally, thought ~ that wasn't flying with me either. So, in the time-tested method of fourteen-year-old girls faced with illogical reasoning (and let's face it ~ logical reasoning) I threw every objection, example, and demand I could at her.
She just repeated, "Because I said so!" and escaped behind her closed bedroom door.
Then along came Debbie, by best friend. My spoiled, only-child best friend. My "rules don’t apply to me" best friend.
"Spend the night with me on Friday when my parents are at bridge," she suggested. "We'll take my mom's car (*a 1965 cherry-red Mustang convertible, btw*) and drive ourselves to the theater."
"GREAT!" I agreed, unconcerned that neither of us had ever been behind the wheel of a car before.
Our plan went into action without a hitch. Debbie drove the car ~ I wasn't that stupid ~ down two miles of rural road to the freeway. Five miles south on the freeway, at a whopping 40 miles an hour in the far right lane, and we exited, pulling into the theater parking lot.
When the movie ended, we retraced our route, pulling into the garage and getting the car in the right spot after half-a-dozen or so tries. Garage door down. Done!
We TOTALLY would have gotten away it, too. In fact, we did for weeks. Until Debbie got the itch to do it again.
She called me and asked what I thought.
"NO!" I warned her. "We got away with it once, but you might get caught if you do it again!"
Unfortunately, I did not prevail.
And when they got caught ~ because, oh yes, they did get caught ~ the twelve-year-old brat blurted, "Debbie drove before! With Kris!"
I hear you all groaning. Rightly so.
We were thisclose!
Needless to say (and yet I will) my parents were… displeased. So many years later there isn't any point in listing out the many consequences I was given. And my mother was unimpressed by my claim she pushed me to it with her stubborn refusal to enter into a dialog ~ a glimpse into the remainder of my adolescent years.
I guess the question remains: was it worth it?
The best way to answer that is to confess one more thing: every time I hear the opening guitar notes from "Sounds of Silence" I go straight back to that theater, and memories of one of the best movies I had ever seen.