When I was 10 years old, I lived for about six months in a place called Livermore; CA. for about half of my 5th grade school year. We lived in a cul-de-sac filled with families that had children around my age. There was one girl, Chelon, whom I used to play with regularly. Chelon lived close to the opening of the cul-de-sac next to the Mormon family. The Mormon mom used to joke about being a 'bad Mormon' family because they drank Coke and coffee. Chelon's parents, Geri and Gerry, drove a late model Camero. I want to say that the car was canary yellow. The car had one of the first vanity plates I remember seeing that somehow managed to spell out both of their names. Maybe it was 'GeriGer'. Anyway, Chelon's mom and dad had the same name, shared the same car, and wore their hair in the same style: a jheri curl. I loved going over to Chelon's house because her parents were very friendly, there was always soul music playing on the stereo, and, after Chelon did her chores, we could play undisturbed outside in the cul-de-sac for hours until we were called home for dinner.
|Michael Jackson wearing a Jheri curl.|
|-prime example of a ranch-style home.|
Moving back to San Francisco at 45, I was sort of the 'new-old kid'. Making acquaintanceships is a bit more challenging at this stage. It was pretty darn easy to make friends when I was 10.