Fire Cracker Love

The 4^th of July…for some this day has many meanings, many memories. For me when I hear fire works crackling and popping I think of my first love. Well, love is a bit extreme for a 12-year-old boy.

I was 12 -6th grade.  The feathered hair was the dew to do.  White folks had a easier time feathering their hair because compared to Asian hair they have more natural curl to their hair texture. Needless to say I used at least a quarter of my mothers Aqua net hairspray each morning to look like my white friends. Oh how I envied them…I even had a special feathering comb I carried in my back pocket just in case I needed a quick tune up to the solid gunk of black I called my hairstyle.

Let’s see, Michael Jackson -Thriller was the only tape I had…I wore parachute pants that I actually shared with my sister. Because my mom bought each of one but I needed to switch off once in awhile. My little sister’s pants were a bit tight but that’s the price you pay to look good!

Visual Summary :  * Bowl cut with lots of hair spray

                               *Extremely tight parachute pants that gave me a slight camel toe.

However ridicules the picture you have in your head, I was feeling GOOD. Feeling SEXY, feeling NOW, feeling, as Michael Jackson would say…”SHA MONIE!”

Jump forward :4^th of July.

The only girl that talked to me was a freckled face red head by the name of Joy. She looked like the girl from that book Freckle Juice. It’s a good book, check it out. Well it was good when I like 8 years old. Anyway, most of cool kids had what we call STUDY girlfriend. “Study” actually meant  STEADY, but we didn’t know what the hell STEADY meant so we called it STUDY…We would go up to the girls we liked and asked them to go STUDY with us. If they agreed the two were essentially a couple. No dates or kissy kiss. Pretty much ate lunch together and shared French fries. But man, if you got to share French fries with a girl you were the MAN!

Needless to say I wasn’t the ladies man at 12. Oh how dreamed of sharing fries with a girl any girl. So back to Joy…Joy would actually say hello to me once in awhile and wave bye to me at the bus stop. She wasn’t ranking in the top 10 hotness lists but hey neither was I and my Aqua bowl cut.

I asked a friend to help me out. Someone who had some experience in the French fry sharing world. Jamine was a Native Indian kid that claimed to have eaten fries with four girls from another school. I didn’t ever see him with any girls in our school but he was my nearest expert on the matter at hand.

He told me to be cool, comb my hair where she can see me. Nonchalantly go up to her and say, “You wanna go study?” Easy enough.

Man was I nervous, I was rehearsing all night, couldn’t sleep. I slept sitting up because I sprayed my hair perfectly so I didn’t want to mess it up for the big proposal.

When I got to school I paced and felt like I had diarrhea. It was the nerves kicking in. Fortunately Jamine calmed me down by sharing a 100-cap load for the cap guns. What are cap guns?…When I was a kid there were these plastic guns that came with a roll of red paper, filled with explosive powder that popped when you pulled the trigger. Such a cool prop to bring realism to ones death when playing cops and robbers, or cowboys and Indians. I think the refill caps ran around 25 cents. Keep in mind that was big money for a 12 year old. Anyway…Jamines gift was safely tucked away in my back pocket.  I remember I had wrangler corduroyed pants on. Not sure why I remember that… So, I walk up to Joy, and quickly say to her “you wanna go study with me?” JOY= ok…SUNG= ok see you later. And that was that… Damn I felt smooth…easy…in my palm…just like that!  I was on my way to eating fries with a girly. Oh YEAH!!!!!

12:00is Lunch Time.

I walked towards Joy with a pile of hot crispy delicious fries. The smell was intoxicating…it was the smell of success…the smell of cool.  We decided to sit outside because it was such a nice day. It was kind of romantic?  Nah! What does a 12 year old know about romance? We were sitting there shoving our faces with the fries when Jamine came over with his popgun. He asked me if I wanted to play cops and robbers. Now, I was a great Cop. I chased down pretend criminals without mercy. I looked over at Joy, she shrugged ok. It was time to impress the lady!

Let the games begin!  Jamine ran… I chased… I yelled “stop you have the right to remain silent!”…Jamine pulled out his cap gun…fired…POP POP…I dodged the imaginary bullets with a bend, a twist and a roll. POP POP POP…I rolled, dodging the invisible bullets of death.  I rolled myself  near stairs leading down to the playground, from my peripheral I could see Joy  impressed with my pretend law enforcement acrobatics. Watch this I thought, a stunt for my dearest French Fry companion.

I started to roll down the flight of stairs…suddenly…pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop! Etc… The refill caps in my back pocket all ignited. Everything was quiet. I felt nothing…suddenly the rush of pain and intense burning of my buttocks made me roar like a wolf in the night. Roar turned to yelling…Help me please!…yelling turned to crying.

To this day I have scars on my bum. I don’t like fries or the fourth of July.