1968

9 years old.

Third-fourth grade.

Find out about sex. I remember dirty jokes were a favorite literary form of this time.

Start fourth grade with a series of substitute teachers, meet Gary Wilson. Gary was the first friend I had that made my brother jealous of me having a friend who wasn't his friend too.

Steve Smith, a very cool kid who actually got left back a year, is in our class. He is a good source for sexual information, though I disagree with him on the anatomy of the female sex organs. Steve maintains that under the hair there is a round hole, whereas I know for a fact that it is more like a slit. Once, in the local grocery store, I saw Steve walk up to a fat lady with big tits and very coolly, without so much as a how d'you do, poked his index finger into her breast. A 9 year old kid never forgets a thing like that.

Hang out with Gary Wilson, try to form a band, read Vampirella comics. Gary had an old reel to reel tape recorder and a microphone and a drum kit. Gary would be the drummer and I was the singer. The only song we ever tried to play was "Inna Gadda Da Vida", which we thought was really funny. Plus it had a big drum solo for Gary.

Steve Smith invented a strange obscene gesture, which we called "Tickling the Curls". To make it, you put out your hand, palm up and wiggle your fingers upwards in a tickling motion. It meant feeling a girl's genitals, which we assumed were covered with curls. It took months for the teachers to catch on, but eventually they banned it from the classroom, but not until after cracking us all up with it's blatant use towards the mystified teachers dozens of times.

Monkey Boy