On With Your Story

The Sound of Music is a much loved movie. Other people like it, but I don’t.

Christopher Plummer who played the von Trapp patriarch, derided the film as the Sound of Mucus, for maudlin sentimentality. That’s not my objection to the movie. I don’t like it because it was the occasion of the disaster that was my first date. The unlucky boy was my lab partner in sophomore biology class. Biology wasn’t his strong suit; he relied on me to pull him through. In spite of that, he asked me out to the movies. I wasn’t attracted to him, but a girl has to have a first date some time and I felt at 15, going on 16, I wasn’t getting any younger so I said yes. This proved to be no favor to him and no fun for me. As I look back, I am more generous about him now than I was then.

I don’t even remember his name. The nameless, hapless boy drove to my house but didn’t want to drive to the theatre in downtown Spokane, Washington. He wanted us to take the bus. He wasn’t comfortable driving in traffic at night. This was strike one my scorecard. I probably would have overlooked this timidity if he had otherwise been my idea of a dreamboat. He wanted to see The Sound of Music–for the fifth time, as it turned out. He told me all about the movie before the overture even started. I have to confess, in my cruel teenage heart, I thought it weird for a guy to see a musical so many times.

After the movie, we waited for the bus, and waited, and waited. So I called the bus company only to find out that the last bus on that route had departed while we were still watching the movie credits. So I called my father, who drove down at 11:00 PM to pick us up. This poor boy and I rode in embarrassed, humiliated silence in the back seat while Dad chauffeured us home. The boy reached once for my hand, but I withdrew it quickly. I didn’t want my father to see. Needless to say, we never went out again. I’m not sure we ever spoke to each other.

In the movie, Maria sings a song about her favorite things; but the movie doesn’t make my list. Mostly because it reminds me of my own superficial nature and mean spirit. I hope this boy has been a happy man—with someone nicer than I.

I wrote this memory, triggered by a suggestion in a book by Hella Buchheim, a fellow member of the Association of Personal Historians. Her book, Remembering. . . Life Story Triggers & Memory Essays, is an anthology of her newsletters and essays over the years on life-story writing. For people who want to write their memoirs or life stories, Hella’s book is chock full of ways to revive and refresh memories that may have been forgotten. The one that prompted my memory of my first date came from the chapter titled, “The Sounds and Sights of Triggers.” In this essay, she suggests thinking about favorite movies. The Sound of Music wasn’t on her list of movies to start the memory engine, but the list made me think of other evocative movies. Memories associated with Fantasia, Roy Rogers serials, My Fair Lady, Doctor Zhivago (now there’s a story), and The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie are also cuing up for their turn to be told. Thank you, Hella. I know one could put together an interesting, rich life story by opening to any page of your book.

Note: Hella Buchheim is a colleague who sent me a copy of her book.