Spring is in the air and, as is often said, this is the time of year that a young man’s fancy turns to love. I am well beyond the age where I am having a young man’s fancy and, besides, I have a beautiful wife who I love very much.

Still, the dawn of spring has caused me to reflect a bit on my first experiences with the bite of the love bug.

When I was a kid, growing up in southwest Florida, my best buddy was Ronnie Johnson. Ronnie was a year older than me and, at least until I turned 14 or so, I figured Ronnie knew just about everything there was to know.

Ronnie and I were bosom buddies since about age eight, but were vastly different in both size and temperament. I was a scrawny kid and kind of on the short end of the spectrum. Ronnie was a tall, hulking mass who would feel right at home either in the wrestling ring or at middle linebacker.

I mention all this because the kiss of the love bug caused the first serious rift in our friendship.

When I was around 13 and Ronnie was 14, our halcyon days of youth were invaded by two separate but intertwined events: the onset of puberty and the arrival of the Shaddock sisters in our neighborhood.

Penny and Diane were two young beauties with ages that matched Ronnie and I exactly. Penny was 14 and Diane was 13. Ronnie and I, driven by novel but not totally unpleasant hormonal surges, were immediately smitten and wasted little time in endearing ourselves to the Shaddock sisters. As one would expect, Penny took up with Ronnie and Diane and I hit it off. The four of us had great fun walking together at night, going to an occasional movie together and, whenever possible, playing tackle football.

All went well for a couple of months, and then an unexpected turn of events occurred.

For whatever reasons, Penny decided she no longer liked Ronnie, but instead, liked me. I was totally unaware of this development until one day, on the school bus, she told me so. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this so I just kept my mouth shut.

I think Penny’s first mistake was liking me more than Ronnie. Her second mistake was telling Ronnie about it.

A couple of afternoons later, I got off the bus and, books under my arms, started to make the three block trek to my house. I hadn’t gone far when Ronnie, fists clenched, appeared from behind a tree.

“I’m gonna tear your head off you little weasel,” snarled my best buddy. Ronnie had a vein bulging in his neck and I swear he was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.

Before I could respond, Ronnie lunged at me, spittle flying. Ronnie was much bigger than me, but I possessed two assets that my friend didn’t: agility and speed.

I dodged his attack and, dropping my books, put it in high gear and ran for my life, with Ronnie fast on my heels. I cut through a pine thicket and evaded him just before he tripped and fell into a patch of Palmetto bushes, impaling himself in several delicate locations.

“I’m gonna get you punk,” screamed Ronnie. “I’m going to get your school books and, if you want them back, you are going to have to come get them.”

Now I was on the horns of a dilemma. I needed my schoolbooks in order to finish a book report that was due the next morning. The last I saw of my books, they were firmly held under Ronnie’s arms as he headed into the house. I knew that if I went over to Ronnie’s to fetch my books, I would be fetching trouble as well.

I had to come up with a more viable, not to mention safer, solution. I noticed Ronnie’s mother was not at home, which ruled out the possibility of enlisting her protection. My next thought was to gather up a pile of dried palm fronds and set them on fire in Ronnie’s back yard. When he ran out the door to see what was going on, I would run in the front door, grab my books, and make it back home faster than Speedy Gonzales.

However, I reasoned that fire might attract unwanted attention fror neighbors, so I ruled out arson.

I finally solved the problem by going to the source. I called Penny and told her Ronnie was upset and that she should ask him over to her house for a piece of cake, pie, cookies or something. She agreed and called Ronnie.

Meanwhile, I hid in the bushes and waited for him to leave. Once he did, I went quickly to his room, fetched my books and lit out for home.

The next day, things returned to normal. Penny decided she like Ronnie again, Diane and I were still buddies and, most important of all, I still had my head on my shoulders.

This was the first time Ronnie and I had problems because of a female. It wouldn’t be the last.