know better now
to guard against
the dangerous sun,
but our skin
tells cavalier stories
can be badges
like the stars,
Dear Jim, Hello from 2015.
I’ll bet that sounds downright Jetsonian to you as a 17-year-old in 1975.
So I’ll settle one big question at the outset: we do not have flying cars.
There is, come to think of it, something called a personal computer that I know you’ll appreciate for at least a couple of its features in particular: it will check your spelling for you. Hold your tears. I know you’ll love that.
And then there’s the Internet, which is also hard to describe, but it will eliminate the need for the family’s old Encyclopedia Britannica. And there’s a whole lot of, well, anything you might ever want (publicly or secretly) on the Internet, such as movies and music and travel guides. And, umm, well, let me just say, kids your age today aren’t even thinking about agonizing over how to convince the sales clerk at the 7-Eleven to sell them a copy of Playgirl.
Yeah, I know about your secret Playgirl stash.
See, I’m you, grown old. I’m you 40 years from now.
Continue reading “time capsule to my teenaged self”
Valentine’s Day was always troubling for me as a gay grade schooler.
I was expected to share giggly little messages of love with my classmates—that is, of course, girl classmates.
The messages were corny puns and all about the boy-meets-girl romances of the 1950s and ’60s.
It was indeed a confusing exercise in futility.
I have wondered what it would have been like to hand a valentine to a boy I had liked back then, or even now in this brave new world where children are supported by loving parents who encourage them to express their feelings.
Continue reading “howdy valentine…i wish i could quit you”