One of the many things the DJs thought was a good idea was fixing each other up with dates. Now as adults, we know better than to be fixed up. I think I’d rather join a monastery than be fixed up today. Hunt Winklee and I did this to each other occasionally. I may come up with a better one in blogs to come, but Hunt arranged a date for me with a girl named Diane Nakinski.I obviously had nothing better to do. It was arranged that I would pick Diane up at her house at seven. What transpired while I was waiting for Diane was just plain
weird. Diane’s mother greeted me very warmly, but did not speak a word of English. This was suppose to be fine because Diane’s brother explained that he would entertain me while we waited for Diane. This was almost a good idea. Diane’s brother was probably a year older than I and flamboyantly gay. I was 17 and naïve, so I wasn’t very good at hiding how damn uncomfortable this guy made me. Now keep in mind that I have never even laid eyes on Diane, and here I was asking her brother to stop touching me as he spoke.
Diane had me wait a good half hour. Her father now popped in to meet me 
and say goodnight. “What time will you be home?” he asked her. “By midnight, Dad” Diane replied. Now I must say Diane was attractive enough, but I never became so involved with a strange family on a first date. “Midnight? Think again. 10 PM!” bellowed her father. At this point I wanted out. I remember thinking that 10 PM would be fine, since I could go back to the party after dropping her off. But Dad compromised with 11 PM and off we went. It was 7:45.
I drove her to a local park we were meeting my friends at, a place where several of us worked. When I was pulling my car in, I saw Sid 
Schaefer, a fellow DJ transferring beer from somebody’s car to his Corvair. We chatted, I introduced Diane, and I lit a smoke. As we were walking to meet the rest of my friends Diane firmly grabbed my arm. “Let me set up some ground rules.” she began. “On this date there is no smoking.” “Strike One,” I thought to myself. “No drinking” she emphasized. I didn’t mind this one since I didn’t drink. “No parties” she continued. Strike two. I reminded her that I specifically asked her out to a party. “Before I saw the beer,” she stated. “We don’t need to drink,” I tried to assure her. “And positively, NO SEXUAL ADVANCES!!” Strike three. I was 17. “Advances” were why we asked girls out. I just stared at her. Between warding off her brother, not underst
anding her mother, being terrified of her father and now this. She looked in my eyes and said softly, “You are going to take me home, aren’t you?” That was a big 10/4. “Yes,” I stammered. She was home before 8:30. It was a 45 minute “date”.
I spoke with Hunt at the party. “What were you thinking?” I demanded. Hunt replied, “I forgot to tell you that this was here first date, didn’t 
I?” Duh. “And why did you forget that small detail?” I asked Hunt. He answered, “Because you wouldn’t have gone out with her and I promised my sister I’d fix her up for here first date…”
I honestly hoped that Diane’s next date would better. It would have to be. Mine sure was and I don’t even know whom I dated or when it took place. A few years later I was dating a girl who graduated with Diane. She showed me her yearbook. The first page I see shows me that she was graduating with Diane Natkinski. “Do you know Diane?” I asked. “Sure,” she responded. “Does she date much?” I asked. “Not really” my girlfriend offered. I could not imagine why…
