Rock-Conner, Teen Idol

Man reading

“Hey, girl!” Angie whispered in her friend’s ear. “See that old geezer in the gray sweater? You’d never guess, but that’s Rock-Conner!”

“Are you sure?” Tammy stared at the broad back of the older man reading a paper. “It can’t be.”

“I’m certain.” Angie squeezed into the booth across from her friend. “I got a good look at him when I came in. That is indeed Rock-Conner, our teen idol.”

“But Rock-Conner was skinny as a string bean! And remember his wild mop of hair?”

Angie snorted. “Thirty-some years ago. I saw an article about him recently; apparently he still sings at charity events.”

Tammy chuckled. “My older sisters always swooned over him. My cousin Janet even vowed she’d marry Rock-Conner someday. And remember his wild psychedelic outfits?” Tammy noted the man’s subdued attire. “Whatever happened?”

“Hey. Remember OUR wild outfits, funky flowers, platform shoes? Back when your hair was naturally red?”

“And I remember when your nickname was Twiggy.”

Angie rubbed her well padded hips. “Before my three babies.” She sighed. “Life is cruel.”

Tammy eyed the elderly gent — her teen idol — now staring out the window. Was he recalling those years, too? “I think I need another latte.”

“Second that. Then maybe I’ll go sign up at Fresco Fitness.”

Dear Readers,
I have a birthday coming up: at the end of this month I turn 65. So you may be seeing more Getting-older type tales and poems in the next few weeks. 🙂

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