Why 'Hey Jude' makes me on edge

Lordy. I have some quirks. Hey Jude by the Beatles is only one in a long line of dysfunctional behavior modifications. (Not sure if that is a real term, but I'm sure Freud would approve.) As Bumble found out recently, 7-Up...the un-cola...is another quirk. Don't like it. Makes me feel sick. Why? Because as a child whenever I got sick, the only thing Mom would let me drink was 7-Up. So now when I drink it, I feel sick. Sprite is OK most of the time. And 7-Up is OK if it has cherry flavoring in it. But. I digress.

Which brings us back to Hey Jude. This was back when my Dad, bless his heart, decided that I needed myself a college education, and he was going to make it happen. And the college he chose, because it was the only one on our end of South Dakota, was South Dakota School of Mines (Mimes as Bumble says) and Technology. Wow. They had some real brains going there. I was not one of them. I didn't know what I wanted to do, but I did know that going to college was not one of them. I did pass a couple of classes, which paid off later in life, but for the most part, I had FUN!!! OMG, it was 1969 and I was in my groove. (We said things like that back then. Groove and groovy...not OMG.)

Most memories were fun. And as much as I had, it was all very innocent. Makes me smile now to think about it. I really was naive. Anyway, like I said...most memories were fun. Except for this one.

There was a dance at the school. I didn't have a date, so I must of went with another girl. But, for the life of me, I can't remember who. Maybe I went by myself. How pathetic. But, I was a free thinking girl, and things like that didn't concern me.

So here I was at the dance. I can only recall one thing about this dance. Hey Jude. Here is why. A tall, skinny, somewhat pimply-face guy named Roy liked me. The feeling was not reciprocated. I felt sorry for him and tolerated him at best. The last song had ended. And I saw him coming towards me. "Would I like to dance with him?" I thought, what harm can one dance do? One little dance. So, I said yes.

Then the music started. I cringed after the first few notes were played...it was Hey Jude, only the LONGEST song in recorded history. There I was on the dance floor with poor ole Roy. I remember his sweaty hands and the fact that he kept trying to pull me closer and I kept pushing away. Push...pull...push...pull. It was a strenuous dance at best. I don't remember if we talked or not. All I remember is trying to keep my distance, and those sweaty hands.

And that is why Hey Jude makes me on edge. I have other stories about my little college experience. George White and seeing my first naked man comes to mind. If anyone really wants to know, I will write about it.