Oh, to find the perfect pair of jeans. Just when I find a style that is at least almost perfect the company decides to make something new and improved.
But to think that I never owned a pair of jeans until 5th grade - bought my first pair of jeans when I needed them for a talent show. Our quartet agreed that the right costumes would make all the difference. That's picture I wish I had.
After convincing Mom to give me enough money I walked to Toback’s Department Store at the Shopping Center, the only place in Silver Bay where they sold jeans, and bought a pair of stiff, deep blue Wranglers.
Standing up there on the Campton stage we crooned Oh Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie and The Streets of Laredo in two-part harmony loudly and with feeling. We didn’t know much about cowboys except what we’d learned from watching Rawhide and Wagon Train, and I certainly couldn't find Loredo on a map, but I loved those mournful tunes. And, we looked good. The legs of our jeans were rolled into wide cuffs. On top we wore plain white blouses with collars. Around our necks we had tied red bandannas. We pushed the square knots and the tails of our scarves jauntily to one side.
About that time I was reading a novel called Sierra Summer, an adventure about a dude ranch vacation - starring Annette Funicello.
Up there singing on that stage I knew we belonged right there on that ranch - with Annette.
Up there singing on that stage I knew we belonged right there on that ranch - with Annette.
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