A girl named Lisa

(Hyannis West Elementary School, circa 1972)

I was single in second grade when I had a secret crush on a girl named Lisa.

When I was a young lad I use to love writing and receiving those little school valentines.  I admired plenty of girls, secretly.  Elementary was probably the last time in my life I could get away with sending bags full of love notes to so many girls (and my best buddies too).

Today I'm single again.  But I wasn't last year, or the year before that...

Nowadays when you have a special girl friend, St. Valentine's Day can be a major pain in the arse. 

I can't stand having my romantic gestures scripted - what, when, ect.

But elementary school days were different.

I miss the days when I would come home with a sack of cards from all my classmates (even from my teacher – In those days – 1970s - teachers could hug a kid or do something nice without getting fired or brought up on charges).  I miss getting cards from the friends who actually played kickball with me and probably knew me better than most women I've dated (and in one case married) since then.

I miss days when friends and schoolmates knew the true key to my heart - little candies, funny cartoon cards, the occasional photo or drawing, a magazine cutout of Farrah Fawcett, then later goofing around on the jungle gym.  The days when if a girl liked you she would steal your hat, or you would steal hers, chasing each other around like frolicking pups.  (Swiping a girl’s hat today is tantamount to a breach in homeland security – the schools, sterile environs run mostly by modern Nurse Ratchets).

I use to steal Lisa’s hat all the time.  I’d always give it back moments later… and that’s how the rumors would start.  “Rob and Lisa up in a tree…”  You know the drill.

Lisa took her life several years ago after a drawn out battle with a severe illness.  I think of her every Saint Valentine’s Day.  I can sometimes even smell her hair.

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