An attitude that made a big difference

I’ll begin that clarification with the tale of one of many days that my beloved wife-to-be, Lolly, and I spent at what was colloquially referred to in Karachi as a “beach hut” standing on one of three beautiful beaches located along the edge of the warm waters of the Arabian Sea. In our case, ours was the Embassy Beach Hut, which was a two-story, well-equipped stone mansion, like all the other so-called “beach huts” located there beside the warm waters.

Why such posh places were called “huts” I have no idea. They were nothing like the small, one story, wood construction beach homes that edge so many beaches here in the states. On the contrary, they were two-story, many roomed, well-furnished, solid concrete structures, finished in light colored stucco, and fitted with partly shaded balconies, places that were ideal spots to spend a sunny day by the sea. And what never failed to amaze me was that they stood there along the beach, locked but totally unguarded, yet every time Lolly and I went out to the Embassy Hut it was empty of people, and as fully equipped and clean as ever, with no sign of improper entry or abuse.

Don’t ask me to explain why that was. I can’t. It’s just the way things were, and that’s all I know about it.

Lolly and I spent many days enjoying the beach and the Embassy Hut during the seven months that passed between the day we met and the day we were married on June 11, 1960; and the reason I mention that is because of a conversation we had there one day. We had been engaged for about four months by then, and she surprised me one afternoon by saying, “You know one reason I admire you so much, Tom? It’s because you’re not grabby like so many other men.”

“Well,” I said, smiling at her, “when I go to the movies, sweetheart, it’s to see the film, not to eat popcorn.”

She laughed at my rather far out analogy, but she understood it. What it meant was that I was in love with her, not with her body parts. And that’s the point I would like to make about the comment I made last week, saying that one of the things that turned those four summers into a teenager’s paradise were “all the pretty girls.”

My attitude toward those innocent young things, even back in my teens, was not based on sex, you see. It was based on the fact that being with them was something that could be enjoyed entirely apart from anything that turned innocent fun into something else. Oh, sure, we often held hands or hugged and kissed; and we felt very close as we spent hours together innocently enjoying both the many attractions of Ocean Beach – and each other – but that was where it ended.

At our age, that made everything even more fun.

Can you see why that was?