Valentine's Party

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I was sure when the Fifties would come to an end. They would end on December 31, 1959, at the stroke of midnight. I was a young boy of eleven at that moment, and my twin brother Jim and I were helping my Mom baby-sit for my sister Betty, who lived across tiny Agate Street from us. It was a big deal, as the decade would be changing, something I had never experienced, as I was too young the last time this happened. I couldn't wait to see what it felt like; the end of The Fifties!

Midnight came, and Jim and I ran up and down Agate Street banging pots and pans together to celebrate the new decade. I awoke the next morning, looked out my window, and...nothing was changed. I was a bit surprised. Life just went on as if nothing had happened. I began to suspect that "decades" were not real; they were an invention, and that one was just like every other. Is that all there is to a decade? Banging pots and pans?

(This is only the first part of Joseph Duffy's memoir The First Moment of...The Fifties)

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I was so excited when I found out that it was for sure. Last year's valentine's formal was fun, but this year's was sure to beat it by a country mile. Two weeks before the party I had already bought my dress. It was a watermelon pink floor-length formal dress with a gathered bottom and a little black jacket to add something interesting to it. This was the first year I would actually be going with a group of friends instead of my Mom. The day of the party came; the party started at 5:30 and at 3:30 I was getting ready. First step to transforming this PJ bum into fancy girl was to put the annoying hot rollers in my ridiculously long hair. This took about 45 minutes just to get them in, and plus I had to look like my grandmother for a whole other hour. I came out of the bathroom and dad said: "Nice hair, Katie." I just rolled my eyes and smiled at his sarcasm. I went upstairs to slip into my dress so I could take my hair out of these insanely retarded looking curlers. Off with the sweatshirt, sadly, and into the stilettos. Time to take these pink and purple burdens out of my hair; magically my hair has turned into the twin of Shirley Temple's locks, only a tad bit longer. This indicates that the preparation is almost done (thankfully!). Now just what will I do with this mess of hair? That is the burning question. Finally after many attempts to the perfect "do," we settle with the final product. By this time the butterflies are going crazy. The suburban load of kids coming to get me consists of a bunch of friends plus one certain guy. :) While I wait for them to show up, it's photoshoot time. My Mom's pretty good at that; it's hard to escape at my house. My ride finally shows up and we are on our way. Hicktown playing by my request, this party is going to be awesome!