Blondes vs. Brunettes #20 - Kissin' Cousins, and Sports Review Wrestling #2

Growing up in the Boston area, we lived near a lot of relatives as my mom came from this huge Italian family of twelve.  So I had lots of cousins to play with, chief among them was Jacky who was a year younger than me.  With jet black hair, big brown eyes and dark olive skin she was 100% Italian ... except that she wasn't!  She was actually adopted. Her biological mother was Italian and her father was Spanish and when I say Spanish I don't mean from El Salvador.  The guy was from Spain, attended school in the Boston area, got this Italian girl pregnant and then went back to Spain, presumably.  The little baby girl, born out of wedlock, was put up for adoption which was more common then, I think than today. She was adopted by my aunt Clair, my mother's sister, and her husband Jerry, another Boston Irishman.  They eventually had two of their own children, a boy and girl, color-wise a little more Irish than Italian.  Although they lived one town away from us, the walking distance, if you took a few short cuts, was just over a mile.

 

Jacky and I always clicked. We were best friends from about the time we were ten.  She was dark and mysterious and to a lot of people very moody, but with me she was always nonstop chatter and lots of fun.  She was the first girl I kissed, a magical event that occurred just before we moved south, and the first girl I had sex with, another magical event, this one occurring during summer vacation before I went to college. We were, in no uncertain terms, in love with each other. I always considered her pretty but she always considered herself very plain.   About 5'5" and 110 pounds, she had a slim build. Although she dabbled in track and gymnastics, athletics were not her strong suit and she wasn't very good in either sport.  Jacky had an attitude, which turned off a lot of people. 

Painfully aware of her adopted status, she would often say, especially when she had a few drinks, that she was just a piece of garbage that was thrown away.  Because of that, she always had a chip on her shoulder and would get snappy with people.  She especially despised and was snappy with good looking girls who were adored and cherished and well, you can see where I'm going with this.  She couldn't stand blondes.  Jacky was one of two women I knew in my life who would refer to blonde, blue eyed girls as "Nazis", never to their face of course. She might go But she would occasionally

So I think that had a lot to do with.  No doubt, every adoptee goes through a lot in life -- I suspect it's worse for girls than boys -- and their experiences lead to certain behaviors. With Jacky, it no doubt led to low self esteem about her looks.  Maybe she thought she was abandoned because she was to dark. I don't know.  I spent over a twenty years trying to convince her of her undeniable hotness. Without a doubt she resented attractive girls, in particular you know who.

As I lay this out, I don't want you to think that it was an all consuming passion because it wasn't.  Instead it was condition, a medical condition maybe like a rash that occasionally flared up.

One year the family went back to the Boston area for a reunion over the Labor Day weekend.  It was held at the park pavilion area near Wollaston Beach, maybe 300 people were there.  Now at the time the drinking age was 18 which means everybody 16 and older was thoroughly intoxicated. Naturally, Jacky and I were firmly in that category as we made ourselves scarce and walked out into the wooded area so we could do so some serious making out. She was, and still is 40 years later, the best kisser of all time.  Wow, what a lip lock and I never met a girl in my life who wanted to kiss more.

Gosh, she looked great that day. White top, tied off at the midriff, daisy-duke style short-shorts, and Dr Scholl's wooden sandals which were all the fashion rage at that time. Although I thought her long brown legs were perfect creations of God, she was obsessed with trying to build more muscle in them, especially the calves which she thought were too skinny.

 

I looked pretty good, too, if I may say.  Like most guys of that era, I also had short shorts on.  The difference between me and most other guys was that I had sexier legs.  Seriously. I think I'm one of the few guys who can credit their legs for helping them get laid. Many times, especially with older gals. (At the risk of digressing again I once had a lady, probably in her 60s, tell me "You've got sexier legs than a woman, did you know that?"  Yes, I said, I knew it.)

Anyway, in the middle of some serious necking Jacky pulled back and said, "Who is she?"

Huh? Wha?

"You know who I'm talking about.  The blonde you were having such a good time talking to."

Even though we had been close for years, this was really the first time she laid it on me.

"Did you think she was pretty with all that blonde hair and those big blue eyes?"

Well sure, I said, of course she was.

And that's when she stepped back, walked a few feet away and leaned back against a tree, and stared at me.

"I thought so" she said.  "You like her don't you? You like blondes. You're just like everybody else."

C'mon I told her, you're being silly.

She leaned back, looked down, slowly slipped her foot out of one of her sandals and rubbed the wood with her toe and then looked up and said something to me, one word that I would hear repeatedly over the years.

"Traitor."

Oh gosh, I laughed, I mean I'm a traitor for talking to a blonde?

Apparently so.  We calmly bantered back and forth until we were closer, then hugging, and then kissing again.  I'm pretty sure the five or six beers we had guzzled that afternoon had fully kicked in.

In between one of our long deep, breathtaking kisses when I had my lips against her forehead, and my hands on her waist gently swaying from side to side she murmured to me, "Remember, you and I are the same. Same brown hair, same brown eyes, same personality, same everything.  We're the same. We're best friends aren't we? That's why I'm better for you than some blonde. Forget them. You don't belong with them. You belong with me.  Your hair, your eyes, those legs of yours, it all belongs with  me."

(Drunken pause)

"I wish you weren't my cuz."

(Another drunken pause)

"Don't be a traitor!!"

OK, Ok, I told her.  I won't be a traitor.

Years later we would have fun with this. I'd intentionally look at a blonde and she'd kick me and say, "Hey Benedict, did ya forget who you were with?"

But it was serious on this day, she actually had a tear rolling down her cheek.  That was the day I promised to attend college in Boston when I graduated from high school.  So I could be with her.

Of course, she didn't exactly have the best grades in high school, and that's why I went to UMass the following year. After she graduated from a high school, she joined me at UMass, just barely getting into the easiest school to get into in the country.

Now I won't bore you to death with three years worth of stories about booze, dope, and lovemaking, mainly because you did it, too, probably more of it than me but probably not with your kissing cuzzin.

I never got all the details, but I knew that she had been in a few fights in high school, one with a good looking blonde.  As her sister,  Angie, relayed to me once, the blonde didn’t want to fight and, maybe knowing that, Jacky had slapped her around a few times. Angie’s analysis was that Jacky was lucky because the blonde would have kicked her ass.

As a result of that encounter, Jacky considered blondes to be nothing more than weak wimps, always at risk of getting beat up by tougher, stronger brunettes. 

I never did see Jacky fight a girl, much less a blonde, but it was close on a cople of occasions, once while her and I were in a shopping mall and the other, years later, when we both found ourselves living in the Kansas City area.

As you can see, I pasted into this blog entry a bunch of fights from an old Sports Review Wrestling issue.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, the brunette in the fight (Debbie) looks an awful lot like Jacky, by which I mean her dark hair, dark eyes, complexion and most importantly, her face which is so close a resemblance it’s scary.  But make no mistake about it, Jacky was not nearly as sexy and voluptuous as Debbie.  Still the color and facial resemblance is striking.    

I thought I would put up on Mediafire a blonde vs brunette clip where the brunette vaguely resembles Jacky.  This is from the now defunct Crystal Films company.  The fights are real; I don’t know how Crystal managed to pull this off, but they did. 

https://www.mediafire.com/?22303f14uqhdpbz