All I have is a Voice. I am watching and listening more closely this time, to the movie, Tuesdays with Morie. The first fifteen minutes I sat with an achey lump in my throat. During this part Morie played by Jack Lemon has his own funeral so he can hear and see his friends for the last time and at the end of his funeral he tells his friends that, "now I have something to say". He recites in part the title, September 1, 1939 which I just read. When you get to the last two stanza's you can feel the words as "Morie" starts, all I have is a voice... That part comes at the next to last stanza
I've seen this movie four times before, the first with Jenny, my daughter who said, you'll love this mom, and then she gave it to me. She knew it reminded me of Mr. Vitalo, and this time, tonight, I felt like I went to his funeral. When Mr. Vitalo's time was coming I avoided it. I knew it would be about a certain time.
In this movie Tuesday's with Morie, Morie loves to dance, and that alone, when Morie was thinking back, I too went back to our dance, mine and Mr. Vitalo's. As I listen to the movie in the background, I see myself in the seventh grade walking to school, all dressed up. I was going to my first and only dance.
That day I wore my hair in an up sweep with long dark banana curls touching my almost bare shoulders. My dress had a square-cut neckline, fitted at the waist, puffy sleeves, and flared out from the waist down with a crushing skirt slip underneath. I noticed all of the autumn colors in my dress, hues of yellows, browns, and orange. I heard my high patent leather heels click as I walked with a sense of pride. I carried with me an old Argus seventy-five box camera, yet I never took pictures. As I neared the school I caught a glimpse of myself in a store window. Honestly, I thought I looked beautiful without any buts, and faults and felt happily anxious wondering if Mr. Vitalo will see me, notice me. Yup a silly school girl crush.
I walked into the building and music could be heard coming from the second floor gym. The second floor, his office, and I was about to pass, but slowed down waiting to hear that familiar, Hey Mac! But nothing came, nothing . I looked back and his office was empty. Where was he I thought, and suddenly my feelings of happiness withered. I went into the gym and could smell adult perfumes, and colognes. That great big gym clock with the wrought iron was covered in balloons. Girls looked like women overnight, beautiful, made-up, stylish hair, lipstick, heels and standing in circles, waiting. The boys were also waiting on the opposite side of the gym. They looked so grown up, and some were with shadows of a beard on their faces. Suits of stripes and sport jackets with well pressed slacks and ties against stiffly starched shirts. Then there was the hair. Where ever you looked, hair was up, down, slicked back, parted, curled, shiny, greased, teased and all for the dance.
Kids went to the punch table, sipped, grabbed cookies, talked and listened to records on the old phonograph. Girls giggled as they would nudge one another to ask a boy to dance. I stood in one of the circles across from the entry door. I don't remember giggling, but doing those polite smiles, a fake laugh, acting happy. I really just wanted to leave. Mr. Vitalo wasn't there, so what good was it, what good was anything I thought. One of the girls said something like, hey Nance, what would you do if Mr. Vitalo came in and danced with someone? I think I just shrugged my shoulders and said, so, so what? Then, right then at that moment he walked in carrying something in his hand, and he walked straight to me. Now I heard the girls giggling in whispers saying oow, here he comes. He stopped, bowed, looked at me and asked hand outstretched, may I have this dance Mac?
I thought I was about to choke and stuttered until a kid in back of me said, say yes, say yes! YES! I said too loud. He smiled, walked away to the record player, and put on an old record titled Someone Who Cares, by Perry Como. We danced and I smelld some cologne he wore, felt the faintness of his tweed suit jacket brushing against my chin as I dared to get just a little closer. I loved this man. I knew that then, I know it now. At the end of the song he danced me back to where I stood earlier, and stepped away, bowed, said thank you and left. I was never the same. As years passed I would hope, wish and wonder if one day I would get to see him again once school was over for me.
This movie is now over and I will end this chapter with one of the last statements Morie made to his friend Mitch...Death ends a life, Not a Relationship.
P.S. Dance as if no one was watching, always dance.
No comments:
Post a Comment