What makes Jimmy cool?

Is it because he was born exactly a year later than Mick Jagger?

Or that he resembled John Travolta-- long before we even knew of John Travolta --right down to his chin-cleft and blue eyes?

Now 56, he has--like John Travolta-- gone from lean-and-loveable to more-to-love but is still a hunk!

But more than his looks made my other cousins and me swoon over him in our youth.

This purry-voiced, dry-witted cousin was just plain fun!

If Jimmy had not been my first cousin, I would have wanted him for a boyfriend/future husband!

I always felt very comfortable with him, enjoying the different activities he planned for my cousins and me--such as our Jimmy walks.

When we were in grade school, we weren't allowed to walk too far from home without a responsible adult.

Jimmy came close enough to fitting that description, so we could walk anywhere he decided to take us.

It was fun going to the little candy store in The Baby Farms Addition to buy snacks, then stop along the way to visit friends from school.

If their parents said okay, they would often join us.

We loved walking on the railroad track and making our way through cornfields with little or no idea where we would be when we got to the other side.

There were also times where we'd just stay home and play games like Hearts and Monopoly while listening to records or the radio.

Or we'd set up a stand beside the highway, selling everything from vegetables to Kool-Aid, to cookies. When Jimmy joined our endeavors, it made it even more fun.

When Jimmy got his license, we always had a blast cruising around, listening to the radio, and talking about whatever was on our minds--such as boys!

Jimmy gladly drove past our crushes' houses, so we could see if any were out in their yards (a major thrill, natch!).

Often, we'd stop somewhere for ice cream, hamburgers, etc.

Then came the day when I took my last ride with Jimmy.

Our first stop would be the library in Pendleton.

We three girls sat in back, and David (my ornery, slightly-younger cousin) sat up front.

He and Jimmy were both into the sport of auto-racing--something which didn't interest us girls in the least, even as spectators.

We certainly weren't interested in it as participants-- especially, on public highways.

I was sitting at the far right, so I had a very clear view of Jimmy's speedometer--and I couldn't believe what I was seeing from my normally-responsible cousin.

We passed through the sleepy, little village of Ovid/New Columbus (This village has two names, because the residents couldn't agree on what to call it), where there was a major curve at the south end.

Jimmy took that curve at 80 mph, while my eyes got wide as saucers!

He built up to 100 mph on the straightaway of what was then part of State Road 109 (which has since been relocated).

Once on US Hwy. 36, he got up to 120!

"JIMMY! SLOW DOWN! YOU'RE GONNA DECAPITATE US!!!" I screamed at him.

Laughing, he promised me that nobody was going to get decapitated.

When we got to this country road connecting Hwy. 36 with State Rd. 38, he drove about 60 or so--then, drove towards Pendleton at about 80 mph with Barbara informing Jimmy that she thought she saw a cop.

Jimmy said that he didn't see any cop, and we drove on into Pendleton at about 50 mph., sharply turning left into the library parking lot and almost running into the building!

Let me tell you that I had never been so glad to get out of a car in all my life!!!

And I told Jimmy that I was going to call my folks to pick me up when I was ready to leave.

He and my other cousins became very concerned about that, begging me not to tell what had happened, or they might never get to ride with Jimmy again--and that Jimmy's folks might not let him have use of the car anymore. Jimmy promised not to drive like that on the way home, but I told him that I wasn't taking any chances.

I also reassured him that I wouldn't be ratting on him--that, if everybody else was happy with his driving, that was their business and not mine. However, I had to get home in some way, and it certainly wasn't going to be with him!

So I called my folks and told them to keep this between us, but that I needed a ride home. When they heard why, they told me that I did the right thing by calling them and hoped that I always would if I ever found myself in a situation that I wasn't comfortable with.

Life went on after that. I still loved spending time with Jimmy--but not in a car when he was driving. Still, he'd invite me to go along when he and my cousins went somewhere--but I always politely turned him down after that.

One day, they had gone out, and I decided to sit out on the screened-in back porch and play some solitaire while I waited for them to return.

In time, I heard Jimmy's car turn off the highway and onto our long driveway--FAST!!!

He forgot about the curve in the driveway and suddenly had to slow down in a hurry, leaving major skid-marks behind. I couldn't believe what I was looking at.

They parked at the end of the driveway (a couple of hundred feet away from where I was) and got out.

I decided to give Jimmy a hard time about leaving the skidmarks.

"Hey, JIMMY!" I hollered. "You left your rubber back here!"

I hollered that two or three times to get his attention.

Now, we may live in the country, but we have next-door neighbors--and, being the nice day that it was, they were probably out in their yard.

But there was honestly no pun intended, because I had no idea at that time what a rubber was.

The next time it was just us three girls, my cousins asked me if I remembered what I'd yelled at Jimmy when he got out of the car.

"Yeah. I told him that he'd left his rubber back here! I wasn't kidding. Look!" I pointed towards the skidmarks.

They asked me if I knew what rubber meant.

What a strange question!

Of course I did!

Jimmy had left part of his tires behind when he skidded to a stop to avoid running into the apple tree.

That was when I received a dose of sex education from my cousins (both of them also virgin teens, so telling me about this wasn't the easiest job they'd ever had--but Jimmy had been too embarrassed to tell me himself and thought it would be better coming from other females).

One more thing--it was later discovered that Jimmy had tampered with the speedometer in his car so that it would show a lesser number so that, when he drove his folks and sister around places, they wouldn't realize that he was driving considerably faster.

Therefore, we had actually taken that curve at 100 instead of 80 mph and had been sailing along US 36 at 140 mph!