A Writer’s Words and the Senior Prom

“A bachelor never quite gets over the idea that he is a thing of beauty and a boy forever.” ~ Helen Rowland

CNN recently reported on the continued search for Sasquatch, The Abominable Snowman. Uncle Harry was at my house reading the story in the newspaper. He was so tickled by the large footprint photograph that he cut it out and hung it on my refrigerator with tape, waiting for a reaction from Uncle Dick, who was expected to arrive for dinner any minute. These two senior bachelors in my life have never quite grown up into manhood.

Apparently, way back when Christ was a Corporal and the two of them attended their Senior Prom, Harry’s date Matilda earned the nickname “Sasquatch” when she poured her size 22 self into a size 18 ½ brown chenille A-line gown, complete with gaudy feathered accessories, for the Prom.

They traveled to the dance in an old 1929 Ford Roadster. Matilda weighing in at 240 lbs. had to literally back into the car to get into position for the seat. Dick’s date looked more like Olive Oyl, in her size 5 spinach-green Edwardian-style gown.
After Harry finished waltzing Matilda and before the night was over, she had literally punctured the floorboard in the Ford with her high-heels. Harry swore that there was no necking room inside the car and that he had to stretch like a deer forging for figs, to reach her face in the moon light. He noticed that you could actually see the dirt road whizzing by though the holes in the floorboard on the way home. So, he went to the local bakery and talked the head baker into selling him a sheet pan to cover the damaged floor in the car. The next day, he and Dick repaired the floor and hid the pan with a throw-rug.

Dick told him that he should seriously consider dating thinner women, but Harry wouldn’t listen. In later years, Dick would tell Harry that all those “HazMat” signs on the highway were there because of his old dates and general taste in women. As I recall, Harry’s first wife actually did look like an Abominable Snowman in her wedding dress.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Dick came in with a bottle of Chardonnay that he promptly put in the refrigerator. He immediately saw the photograph of the alleged Sasquatch footprint.

“Harry, you never told me that you took Tildy out for barefoot walk on the beach on Prom night,” he said. They had me laughing all night
I’ve never been quite sure if Helen Rowland, author of The Rubaiyat of a Bachelor, actually knew my Uncle Dick. .▪

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About Rose A. Valenta

Rose A. Valenta is a nationally syndicated humor columnist. Her irreverent columns have been published in Senior Wire, Associated Content, Courier Post Online, NPR, Newsday, USA TODAY, the WSJ Online, and many other local news and radio websites. She is the author of Rosie’s Renegade Humor Blog, http://www.rosevalenta.com

and the humor book, Sitting on Cold Porcelain.

About Sitting on Cold Porcelain

Political unrest. government scandal. corruption… extortion! What do all these things have in common? They are perfect targets for satire! In Sitting on Cold Porcelain, readers will find an amusing, perceptive, and laugh-out-loud take on the state of our country and our world, on celebrities and politicians, and all the news events that make us roll our eyes and groan.

Its satirical essays include “Giuliani’s Gaffe Could Qualify for Political Darwin Award,” “Rush Limbaugh: The Don Rickles of Radio,” “State of The Union 2010: Bitch-Slapping Congress,” “Islamic Cleric Declares Jihad on Mickey Mouse,” “Little Egypt to Run Against Sarah Palin,” and “Who Moved My Mascarpone?”

You will also find Rose’s hysterical consultations with her friend, Mrs. Giordano, a South Philadelphia Malocchio (evil eye) doctor. Mrs. Giordano bloviates in Italian and is the Italian equivalent to the ‘Numa Numa Guy’ in front of the TV when she watches The O’Reilly Factor.

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