The Summer of 1981, Part 24: I Love You

[Padraig]

For those of you who would like to catch up, here are links to the earlier chapters:

Part 1: The Best of Times
Part 2: Wasn't That A Party
Part 3: The Boy From New York City
Part 4: The Voice
Part 5: Feels So Right
Part 6: Sausalito Summernight
Part 7: The Waiting
Part 8: All I Have To Do Is Dream
Part 9: Urgent
Part 10: The Theme From The Greatest American Hero
Part 11: Rock And Roll Dreams Come Through
Part 12: Life of Illusion
Part 13: America
Part 14: Deep Inside My Heart
Part 15: Mister Sandman
Part 16: Hard To Say
Part 17: Bette Davis Eyes
Part 18: Limelight
Part 19: Cool Love
Part 20: Don't Let Him Go
Part 21: Physical
Part 22: Hold On Tight
Part 23: Medley


Any feedback is very much appreciated - I would love to hear from those of you who have been reading. Or if you just want to reminisce about some of your favorite music or memories from 1981, please feel free to share. Thanks!!


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After another scorching day, it was still very warm in the Yates home as the clock approached six in the evening. Even so, Nancy Yates was hard at work in the kitchen, cooking dinner, when she heard her son’s car pull up in the driveway. She smiled knowing that he was home, hoping that he would once again share a meal with her and her husband. With only six more weeks before he left for college, she treasured every moment she got to spend with him.

The door opened about thirty seconds later, and she called out to him. “Hi, sweetie! Will you and Ben eating with us?”

“Yes, mom. Ben said he had to do something at his house first, but he’ll be along in a few minutes,” Tug called back from the entryway.

“Wonderful! How was your day?”

“Um, well, promise you won’t get mad.”

Mrs. Yates immediately stopped stirring her mashed potatoes, set down the spoon, and laughed. “Oh, my goodness, Tug, that didn’t work when you were five and it won’t work now. Come in here and talk to me.”

Tug slowly walked into the kitchen to speak directly to his mother, who was still standing with her back toward him. She was in her 40’s, but was often mistaken for a much younger woman due to “youthful glow,” as her husband always told her, and her trim figure. She had curly blond hair and blue eyes, and she was taller than most of her friends at 5’9”. Still clad in the stylish white dress and white shoes she had worn to work that morning – she was a weekday volunteer at a library in Everett – Mrs. Yates was considered to be the prettiest woman on the island.

She turned to look at her son as he entered the kitchen and gasped. Almost all of the hair on his head was shaved off, with maybe an eighth of an inch left all around.

“Oh, my stars, Tug, what happened?”

Tug’s eyes started to tear up, thinking he had very much disappointed his mother. “I’m sorry, mom. I guess the lady cutting my hair was asking me how short I wanted it, and I wasn’t paying attention. By the time Ben saw her launch up the side with the clippers, it was too late to fix it. I’m really, really sorry – I know it looks awful!”

“Tug, it doesn’t look awful, just really different than before,” consoled his mother, as she reached around to hug him. “And I didn’t gasp because I was mad. I gasped because you are the spitting image of your father when I first met him.”

Tug finished the hug, and then pushed back to look his mother in the eye. “Seriously? I look like dad?”

Mrs. Yates dabbed her son’s eyes with a nearby dishtowel, and then silently took him by the hand and led him to the dining room where the walls were covered with framed family photos. She grabbed one small picture showing a handsome youth with a flattop, dark eyes, and a smattering of freckles around his nose, and then positioned her son so that he could see his reflection in the glass on the china hutch. Then Mrs. Yates held up the picture so Tug could see it and his reflection at the same time.

Tug gasped. “Good golly, I do look just like dad. How old was he in this picture?”

“18, same as you. It was taken by your grandparents on the day they dropped him off at college – coincidentally the same day we met.”

“You and dad met on the first day of college? Did you start going out right away?”

His mom hung the picture back up on its spot, and then turned back toward Tug. “No, sweetie. Your father was very shy – it took me a long while before I could get him to ask me out, and I was really trying,” she said with a laugh.

“I have a hard time believing that about Dad.”

“A hard time believing what about me?” asked a voice from the kitchen.

Mrs. Yates smiled at her son and then headed toward the voice. “I was just telling our son here how shy you were in college.”

“Oh, were you now?” asked Mr. Yates. He greeted his wife with a kiss, and then lifted his head back up to see his son. Tug walked forward into the light of the kitchen, and Dan Yates became the third member of the house to gasp in the last few minutes.

“Good golly, son, what happened to your hair?”

“It was a misunderstanding at the barber shop, dear,” said his wife. “I was telling Tug how much he resembled you when we first met.”

Mr. Yates smiled and really looked at his son – with his close-cropped haircut and considerable weight loss, Tug’s facial features stood out more clearly than ever, and Mr. Yates could immediately see his younger self in them. “You’re right, Nancy, he does look like me – just like that picture in the dining room.”

“That’s exactly what I said. Now you two shoo while I finish dinner – it’ll be ready in another five minutes.” Mrs. Yates gently pushed on the backs on her husband and son until they were out in the dining room. Both continued walking toward the living room, side by side, when Tug asked his father, “So were you really shy when you met mom?”

Tug’s father stopped in front of the sofa and gestured for his son to sit across from him on the ottoman. Tug took his seat and watched as his father took off his suit coat, gently lay it on the arm of the couch, and then sat down on the cushion.

“Tug, believe it or not, you and I are alike in many ways. Now I know that your brother and I have always shared a love of sports, but in terms of personality, he is much, much more like your mother. Outgoing, affable, very much the life of the party – extroverted in every sense.”

“Are you saying that I’m an introvert?” asked Tug, as if it were a dirty word.

“Yes, we both are, but I don’t mean that you’re a wallflower or an ugly duckling. It’s just that when you and I want to recharge our batteries – when we’re plain ol’ tuckered out – we seek quiet time by ourselves. We like to be alone with a good book, sitting on the hammock, or just walking down the beach. When your mother or your brother needs to recharge, they require a social setting – a party, a get-together with friends, or talking with someone on the telephone.”

Tug nodded.

“When I first went to college, other than playing sports, I was an extremely introverted person. I just wanted to be alone most of the time. I also didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life – grandpa had insisted that I go to the university, but I had no idea what I was going to study or take on as a career.”

“You didn’t? I just assumed you gravitated to business right away.”

“Nope, when I was younger man, I hadn't a care. I figured I would go class but spend most of my time fooling around, hitting the town, and growing my hair. But then I met your mother.”

“On the first day?”

“Yep. She was simply stunning – I was so awkward around her at first, because I didn’t understand what she could see in me. I mean, she was from the sophisticated and cultured big city, and I was just some hick from the island.”

“But she persisted?” asked Tug.

“That she did,” responded his father. “But I honestly believe that I fell in love with her on that very first day – the moment I saw her curly blonde hair, those deep blue eyes, and when she smiled right at me. But it took me about three months to figure it out. I guess I was a slow to catch on when it came to love.”

“Did falling in love change your outlook?”

“Well, I was still introverted, if that’s what you mean. Your mom practically had to drag me to visit her friends or go to parties. But being in love gave my life a new direction – it made me want to try harder, and push myself to do better – not just in sports or at school, but at everything. I wanted to be successful in my life so that I could provide for your mom and take care of her.”

“Wow,” said Tug with a hint of amazement in his voice. “I hope all that happens when I fall I love. I hope that being in love makes me want to be a better person.”

Mr. Yates took another long look at his son, who with the inspiration and support of Ben, had completely transformed his appearance in just over two months time, and who was now passionate about exercise and fitness. He thought that Tug looked just like his older son had a few years ago, when Tim's muscles were popping out all over as he lifted heavy weights day after day, yearning to be the biggest and best football player in the high school. Tug was not at Tim's level yet, but he was certainly making good progress.

Mr. Yates also thought about Tug’s relationship with Ben, how he looked at Ben, how he talked to Ben, how he talked about Ben, and how very close two two seemed to be. But Mr. Yates decided to say nothing for the time being.

Instead, he reached over and rubbed his son’s shaved head. “Tug, I’m sure you’re destined for greatness. Tim may be the famous one, but you’re the one who’s going to do a lot of great things.”

“Oh, come on, you’re just saying that because you’re my father.”

“You’re right,” said Mr. Yates with a smirk. “I did just say that just because I’m your father. I actually think you might do maybe one great thing.”

Tug rolled his eyes. “Just one?”

“”Yep, son, just one great thing. And then you’ll be done.”

“Ha, ha, ha.”

Both were laughing when Mrs. Yates entered the living room to announce that dinner was ready, so Tug went upstairs to wash his hands.

“What were you two talking about?” she asked.

“I was telling him that you came along and stole my heart when you entered my life, so much so that my head was spinning around the moment I gazed into your eyes. And since then I never looked back.”

“It’s been that good for you, huh?” asked Mrs. Yates as she sidled up next to her husband.

“If ever a man had it all, it would have to be me. It's almost like living a dream. I love you, Nancy.”

“I love you, Dan.”

The two kissed for a good twenty seconds, and would have continued kissing for another twenty seconds if it hadn’t been for the doorbell ringing.

“That’ll be Ben, dear,” said Mrs. Yates. “Could you let him in while I put dinner on the table?”

“Of course.” They kissed one more time, and then Mrs. Yates headed to the kitchen and Mr. Yates headed for the front door.

He opened it to see Ben standing on the porch. He was wearing a white polo shirt that tightly hugged his muscular torso, white athletic shorts, and a pair of white tennis shoes – standard attire for Ben.

The only thing different was his hair – it had been completely shaven off, except for about one eighth of an inch around the top of his skull. His head quite resembled Tug's, except for the fact that Tug’s ears were flat up again his head, and Ben’s ears stuck out like barn doors.

“Ben, not you, too?” asked Tug’s father.

“Hi, Mr. Yates. I didn’t want Tug to go through it alone, so I shaved my head when I got back home.”

Mr. Yates invited the boy in, happy to know that he cared so deeply for his son.

[Padraig]

Sorry there wasn't much muscle growth in this chapter, but I had to get through a little important storytelling. Hope you all enjoyed it anyway!

Here's today's song, a little ditty by the Climax Blues Band from the summer of 1981.

I Love You

[bobman]

This story really exemplifies the beauty of the serial form. You're really hitting on cylinders here! Thanks for developing these characters so completely.

[redroger11]

Thank you for writing such a cool father. He loves Tug and sees what is good for him. Must come from being an introvert. And a loving father. And I know you will...
Keep Writing.

redroger11

[Padraig]

Thanks, guys - I think every boy deserves an understanding father (or father figure) who can who will help guide him into manhood and talk to him about such subjects as love, sex, relationships, etc.

As for the introverted part, yes, I am an extreme introvert - I need my alone time to recharge. But I certainly wouldn't mind having a Tug or a Ben (or a Mr. Yates, Tim, Don, Tom, Lee, or Captain America) in my life!

:-)

[Padraig]

Since I was asked in a couple of messages, I know that head shaving was not the thing to do back in 1981 ? even though really long hair on men is mainly associated with the late 1960s and 1970s, most of my male friends and relatives still had relatively long hair in the early 1980s. And nobody I knew shaved their head.

But for the purposes of this story, I needed something to bond together the likenesses and create commonality between father and son, so that's why the accidental head shaving. I get that it's a bit of a stretch for the times, but so is having an island full of hot muscle studs. :-)

New chapter should be up tomorrow! Thanks for reading!

[Padraig]

By the way, I was inspired to make Tug's father bald when I saw a photo of Eric Bana last year during the filming of the recent Star Trek movie. I thought he was so masculine, powerful, and handsome that I had to pattern Mr. Yates' look after him (and in my mind, Mr. Yates' body resembles Eric Bana's physique in the movie "Troy").

You can click on the link below to see a photo of Mr. Bana with a shaved head:


Eric Bana

[philat99]

Your young love discovery saga has been great! I've been going to your YouTube refs and listening to all the great sounds of 1981. I was already "over the hill" and didn't pay much attention to artists names by then, so a lot of your descriptions/explanations regarding artists are over my head. If I liked a song, I just liked it, and hoped they would play it more often on the radio.
Maybe I should do something about the 40's or 50's. Nah! The present is just too exciting!
Thanks for continuing your most enjoyable story!
Mike

[Padraig]

Thanks, Mike (sorry I called you Phil in other posts ? I didn't see your name at the bottom of the replies and was going by your screen name). I guess I like knowing about the artists and finding out the stories behind the writing of the songs. If you've never read about the recording of Fleetwood Mac's 1977 album "Rumours," for example, it's a fascinating account of how a band in turmoil created some of the most recognizable pop songs ever.

Quick side note: today I was riding with a friend in my car, listening to my XM satellite radio. As luck would have it, he wanted to listen to the 80's station, which was playing a rebroadcast of Casey Kasem's American Top 40 from this week back in 1981. I kept laughing and smiling as Casey introduced song after song that I had used for chapters in this story ? and I really busted up when he got to "Feels So Right" by Alabama. I kept telling my friend they were "private jokes," but I'm sure he thought it was odd that I had so many.