I love this..."Lord of the Flies–not as a cautionary tale, but as an instruction manual for male “problem-solving.” Great job again, just love it, your references and metaphors are always so perfect and humorous. You know I'm a fan. BJ De Palma
Oh honey. I was that girl at Portola Jr. High, same year-ish, reading Judy Blume and everything else I could get my hands on, and writing it all down in a diary that my sisters read...bullied for who knows what, by today's Karens (yesterday's Hailey, Heather, Hallie) and banding together with my fellow girl geeks to wonder and fear the feelings, the crushes, saving our babysitting money for Spandex pants and Dolfin shorts, straightening our Jewish hair, training bras on boobs and retainers on our teeth and hoping to make it through the trials of nutrition break, let alone algebra, aware of the potential of casual violence, physical or emotional, in either endeavor. Thank you for a rare look back at that part of childhood in Tarzana, weird suburban wasteland with wildness just under the surface (not for nothing did Tom Petty write about those vampires cruising Ventura Blvd.) I laughed, I cried, I thoroughly confused my husband from Long Island. Big hugs and lots of love and wishes for the better memories of that place that holds some kind of space, if not a wholly kind place, in our hearts, minds and sneakered souls.
I love this..."Lord of the Flies–not as a cautionary tale, but as an instruction manual for male “problem-solving.” Great job again, just love it, your references and metaphors are always so perfect and humorous. You know I'm a fan. BJ De Palma
Brilliant as always Brian.
And I nearly pee’d myself laughing.
This is great…MORE!
I love your writing… keep up the good work,BB.
Oh honey. I was that girl at Portola Jr. High, same year-ish, reading Judy Blume and everything else I could get my hands on, and writing it all down in a diary that my sisters read...bullied for who knows what, by today's Karens (yesterday's Hailey, Heather, Hallie) and banding together with my fellow girl geeks to wonder and fear the feelings, the crushes, saving our babysitting money for Spandex pants and Dolfin shorts, straightening our Jewish hair, training bras on boobs and retainers on our teeth and hoping to make it through the trials of nutrition break, let alone algebra, aware of the potential of casual violence, physical or emotional, in either endeavor. Thank you for a rare look back at that part of childhood in Tarzana, weird suburban wasteland with wildness just under the surface (not for nothing did Tom Petty write about those vampires cruising Ventura Blvd.) I laughed, I cried, I thoroughly confused my husband from Long Island. Big hugs and lots of love and wishes for the better memories of that place that holds some kind of space, if not a wholly kind place, in our hearts, minds and sneakered souls.
I love this, and love that you were able to share it with everyone who wasn't at the Judy Blume 'do.
Love this. Amazing any of us survived. 🙏🏻
I jumped through ten hoops to sign in just to hit "like" on this. Thank you for this delightful essay!