9. MOVIES, GIRLFRIENDS, FOREIGNNESS, OUTLIERS

Most of the musicals in the 1950s and 1960s were safe for children. I remember seeing Singin’ in the Rain with my mother, mainly because I recall her saying she would have liked to teach Debbie Reynolds how to ski. I was about ten. I was confused by my mom’s remark, because there was no skiing (only singing and dancing) in the movie.

“Debbie may not be a very experienced dancer,” my mother explained, “but I can tell she’s a good athlete—that’s all I mean.” My mom liked Gene Kelly, too.

“Because he’s handsome?” I asked her.

“Because he can dance!” Little Ray exclaimed. “He’s handsome enough, sweetie, but not the kind of handsome you’re going to be.” (Not small enough, I guessed.)

The year before, my mother and I had seen An American in Paris together. “I think you look a little like Leslie Caron,” I told my mom.

“I don’t, sweetie!” she exclaimed, kissing me. “But thank you.”

I saw other musicals in the 1950s and 1960s—I don’t remember with whom. Brigadoon, Carousel, Oklahoma! I didn’t see these fifties musicals with a date. I was too young or out of it to go with a date. West Side Story was later, in 1961. I was nineteen—I might have had a date, but I don’t remember taking anyone to see that movie.

“You could’ve been with one of your unfortunate girlfriends—you know, one of the early ones,” Nora reminded me. “On second thought, not the overweight one—she wouldn’t have fit in a theater seat,” Nora went on. “Didn’t Sally get stuck in a shower? Nana told me the shower door had to be removed to get her out.”

“I didn’t take Sally to West Side Story,” I said.

“I can’t see the clubfooted one having much fun at a musical—poor Rose wouldn’t have enjoyed the dancing,” Nora said.

“Rose wasn’t clubfooted—she just limped, and she was prone to muscle spasms,” I said.

“Rose had more like a lurch than a limp, as I remember it,” Nora pointed out. “She fell down the attic stairs, didn’t she?” I just nodded. Nora moved on—to Caroline, who was very strong. Caroline had injured her knee playing field hockey; when we dated, she was on crutches. I’m sure I never took Caroline to a movie theater. She was broad-shouldered and very tall, and her crutches were very long; something awkward would have happened.

Nora moved on to Maud, who was also very tall—a tall and thin cross-country runner. Maud had fallen and broken her arm; her arm was in a cast when we were going out. I knew my mother had told Nora about Maud. My mom referred to Maud as “the virgin.” Maud and I had remained friends.