A Sweet Bite Of Life

 

“I don’t get the draw,” my wife said, quickly biting into a Jordan Almond. How could she understand the depth of my relationship? Jordan Almonds was childhood innocence, teenage sweat and romance with sweet sugar coating. Right up there with Nonpariels. The nonpareil attraction I can blame on my grandmother. I can never eat them without making them into a little chocolate shaped hamburger by bringing the flat ends together. Sitting on that couch in her North Hollywood apartment my sister and I were always plied with sweets. So it was that those candies connected that kid on that couch to my first job as a teenager.

I was twelve year old and every Saturday morning my friend Keith and I worked at our Lawn Mowing service; Barbro mowing (Barnes and Brook). We’d roll that Briggs and Stratton lawnmower and gas-powered edger to our neighbors’ yard. Professional edging and mowing; I think that’s what our business card said. We did a damn good job; matter of fact. Keith doing the edging and me mowing. Collect our money and move onto the next yard. Some weekends we’d reward ourselves with a walk to JC Penney. JC Penney had these large glass display cases, imagine a goldfish tank, filled with every kind of candy. Always part of my lawnmowing take went to the purchase of nonpareils or Jordan Almonds. Because boys like candy…and girls.

Old friends won’t be surprised she was a red-head (years later this trend would yield to some catastrophe; but that’s a story for a different day). There’s the one that got away and the one you never had. She’s the never had. In junior high Keith and I named our imaginary consulting company after her. Always elusive, she may not have ever known she was my crush until we told her at reunion. Her name was Jordana. Like the candy.

Of course she didn’t get the draw. It wasn’t just the Jordan Almond. It was youth, laughter, wonder, innocence and puberty. No quick crushing bite of life. It’s that rich coming into fullness, savoring that sweet sugar coating and the reward of that final almond crunch.