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Life starts at 40

By Rick Ryckeley
Contributing Writer

They say that life really starts when you turn 40. Well, I can tell you that it’s not true. Life may start at the ripe old age of 40 for some folks, but for me it started much earlier than that.

How early? Looking backward through the sharply focused eyes of a 46-year-old, I can truthfully say that my life started Aug. 26 at 11:45 in the morning on the first day of school, 15 minutes before lunch in Old Miss Crabtree’s fifth-grade class.ÊThat’s when Candi finally kissed me.

If you asked me then why it happened, I would have told you Candi finally saw the light and wanted to dump Money Bags, a.k.a. Preston Weston III, for yours truly. But if you asked me now why she turned around when the lunch bell rang and kissed me on the cheek, I would have to tell you that I don’t have a clue. It’s the same answer I gave when The Boy asked me why women nowadays do what they do. “Son, I don’t have a clue.”

To get the story straight, I guess I really need to start at the beginning with what could have been the real reason for the kiss.ÊIt all started the last Saturday before we were to go back to school when Mom loaded us up in the green station wagon with the dark brown faux wood panels and drove to the J.C. Penney’s store early in the morning. After she made twin brother Mark, older brother Richard, big brother James, me and the Sister try on about half the store (and some of the worst clothes in Atlanta), she then dragged us kicking and screaming across town to the Woolworth store for school supplies.

Mom took her time, oblivious to the fact that we had a football game to play.ÊNot just any football game, mind you, only the most important street football game of the entire year.ÊThe Street Football Championships between the Gloucester Devil Rays (that was Preston Weston’s team) and the Flamingo Street Raiders (that was my team).

Three hours after we left the house, the torturous shopping spree was finally over and we were headed back home after a quick stop at the DQ for lunch. My lunch consisted of one super-long hot dog with the works, a large bag of onion rings, a hot peach pie, and a medium Lemon Lime Super Brain Freeze Mister Misty Float to wash it all down with.ÊMundane as this information seems, it’s important, and I suspect could have been the very reason why I received the kiss from Candi.

The Street Football Championship was between the rich kids who lived over on the Duke of Gloucester and the not-so-rich kids who lived on Flamingo Street. Preston Weston III lived over on the Duke in a huge house with maids, an indoor swimming pool, and tennis courts out back.ÊPreston’s parents were loaded; that’s why he had the nickname Money Bags and maybe one of the reasons why he was Candi’s boyfriend. For some reason, possibly that Candi lived on Flamingo Street and not The Duke, Preston hung out with us most of the time, and we all liked him.ÊExcept when we played football; Preston was the quarterback for the Devil Rays.

Candi moved to our neighborhood in the middle of third grade and sat right in front of me.ÊAs she sat down for the first time, the sweet smell of coconuts wafted back to me, and I was lost in it. Then she turned around and said, “Hi.” I melted. From that moment on, I considered her to be my girlfriend. Sometime during the fifth grade, I had intended to tell her this, but in the meantime, it was nice of Money Bags to take care of her for me and walk her home every day. Candi was the head cheerleader for the Raiders; again, mundane but important information as she was in attendance that Saturday when IT happened.

The score was tied, 14-14, and the Devil Rays were driving and had the ball on our 40-yard line with less than 30 seconds to play.ÊCandi was on the sidelines leading the cheers as Preston dropped back to throw a pass, faked and ran it down the sidelines in front of her, with only one thing between him and the winning touchdown.ÊMe.

Preston made it down to the 10 with me chasing him.ÊThat’s when Down the Street Bully Brad came out of nowhere and tackled him on the five!ÊHe sat on top of Preston and started to pound him in the face. Candi dropped her pompoms and started to scream.ÊWithout thinking, I threw a perfect flying tackle that knocked Bully Brad off Preston and set us both rolling on the ground.ÊWe eventually stopped rolling as we crossed the goal line, and somehow I found myself sitting on top of the meanest bully in all of Mt. Olive Elementary School who at the moment had a furrowed brow, beady dark eyes, and was sneering up at me.ÊLike I said, I wasn’t thinking.ÊAnd that’s when IT happened.

I don’t know if it was because it was a muggy day in August or because the temperature was well into the 90s or because of all the rolling around that we did, but at that moment there was something I did know. Eating one super-long hot dog with the works, a large bag of onion rings, a hot peach pie, and a medium Lemon Lime Super Brain Freeze Mister Misty Float was a bad idea 30 minutes before a street football game.ÊYes, I threw up all over Bully Brad.

I jumped off Brad as he jumped up trying to wipe his face and grab me at the same time.Ê“I’ll get you Flash,” he yelled at me. “I’ll get you all,” as he ran off the field to the sound of laughter coming from everyone present. It was the only Street Football Championship that ended in a tie, the only time anyone threw up on Bully Brad and lived to tell about it, and the only time that year Candi kissed me.ÊMy life started that Monday at 11:45 with a thank-you in the form of Candi’s kiss, and it almost ended after lunch when we got a new kid transferred into our class: Down the Street Bully Brad.ÊBut that’s another story.

[Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services. He can be reached at saferick@bellsouth.net.]