August 25, 1991 Dear friend

This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald. There’s a place near the end of
the book where the main kid is picked up by some older gentleman. They
are both going to an Ivy League homecoming football game, and they have
this debate. The older gentleman is established. The kid is “jaded.”
Anyway, they have this discussion, and the kid is an idealist in a
temporary way. He talks about his “restless generation” and things like that.
And he says something like, “This is not a time for heroes because nobody
will let that happen.” The book takes place in the 1920s, which I thought
was great because I supposed the same kind of conversation could happen
in the Big Boy. It probably already did with our parents and grandparents. It
was probably happening with us right now.
So, I said I thought the magazine was trying to make him a hero, but then
later somebody might dig up something to make him seem like less than a
person. And I didn’t know why because to me he is just a guy who writes
songs that a lot of people like, and I thought that was enough for everyone
involved. Maybe I’m wrong, but everyone at the table starting talking about
it.
Sam blamed television. Patrick blamed government. Craig blamed the
“corporate media.” Bob was in the bathroom.
I don’t know what it was, and I know we didn’t really accomplish
anything, but it felt great to sit there and talk about our place in things. It
was like when Bill told me to “participate.” I went to the homecoming
dance like I told you before, but this was much more fun. It was especially
fun to think that people all over the world were having similar
conversations in their equivalent of the Big Boy.
I would have told the table that, but they were really having fun being
cynical, and I didn’t want to ruin it. So, I just sat back a little bit and
watched Sam sitting next to Craig and tried not to be too sad about it. I have
to say that I couldn’t do it very successfully. But at one point, Craig was

---

talking about something, and Sam turned to me and smiled. It was a movie
smile in slow motion, and then everything was okay.
I told this to my psychiatrist, but he said it was too soon to draw any
conclusions.
I don’t know. I just had a great day. I hope you did, too.
Love always,
Charlie
February 2, 1992
Dear friend,
On the Road was a very good book. Bill didn’t ask me to write a paper
about it because, like I said, it was “a reward.” He did ask me to visit him in
his office after school to discuss it, which I did. He made tea, and I felt like
a grown-up. He even let me smoke a cigarette in his office, but he urged me
to quit smoking because of the health risks. He even had a pamphlet in his
desk that he gave me. I now use it as a bookmark.
I thought Bill and I were going to talk about the book, but we ended up
talking about “things.” It was great to have so many discussions back-to-
back. Bill asked me about Sam and Patrick and my parents, and I told him
about getting my license and talking in the Big Boy. I also told him about
my psychiatrist. I didn’t tell him about the party or my sister and her
boyfriend, though. They’re still seeing each other in secret, which my sister
says only “adds to their passion.”
After I got through telling Bill about my life, I asked him about his. It
was nice, too, because he didn’t try to be cool and relate to me or anything.
He was just himself about it. He said that he studied undergraduate work at
some college in the West that doesn’t give grades, which I thought was
peculiar, but Bill said it was the best education he ever got. He said he’d
give me a brochure when the time was right.
After he went to Brown University for graduate school, Bill traveled
around Europe for a while, and when he came home, he joined Teach for
America. When this year is over, he thinks he is going to move to New
York and write plays. I guess he’s still pretty young, although I thought it
would be rude to ask him. I did ask him if he had a girlfriend, though, and
he said he didn’t. He seemed sad when he said it, too, but I decided not to

---

pry because I thought that would be too personal. Then, he gave me my
next book to read. It’s called Naked Lunch.
I started reading it when I got home, and to tell you the truth, I don’t
know what the guy is talking about. I would never tell Bill this. Sam told
me that William S. Burroughs wrote the book when he was on heroin and
that I should “go with the flow.” So, I did. I still had no idea what he was
talking about, so I went downstairs to watch television with my sister.
The show was Gomer Pyle, and my sister was very quiet and moody. I
tried to talk to her, but she just told me to shut up and leave her alone. So, I
watched the show for a few minutes, but it made even less sense to me than
the book, so I decided to do my math homework, which was a mistake
because math has never made any sense to me.
I was just confused all day.
So, I tried to help my mother in the kitchen, but I dropped the casserole,
so she told me to read in my room until my father came home, but reading
is what started this whole mess in the first place. Luckily, my father came
home before I could pick up the book again, but he told me to stop
“hanging on his shoulders like a monkey” because he wanted to watch the
hockey game. I watched the hockey game with him for a while, but I
couldn’t stop asking him questions about which countries the players are
from, and he was “resting his eyes,” which means he was sleeping but
didn’t want me to change the channel. So, he told me to go watch television
with my sister, which I did, but she told me to go help my mother in the
kitchen, which I did, but then she told me to go read in my room. Which I
did.
I’ve read about a third of the book now, and it’s pretty good so far.
Love always,
Charlie
February 8, 1992
Dear friend,
I have a date for the Sadie Hawkins’ dance. In case you didn’t have one
of those, it’s the dance where the girl asks the boy. In my case, the girl is
Mary Elizabeth, and the boy is me. Can you believe it?!

---

I think it started when I was helping Mary Elizabeth staple the latest issue
of Punk Rocky on Friday before we went to The Rocky Horror Picture
Show. Mary Elizabeth was so nice that day. She said that it was the best
issue we’d ever had for two reasons, and both of those reasons were mine.
First of all, it was in color, and second, it had the poem that I gave
Patrick in it.
It really was a great issue. I think I’ll even think so when I’m older. Craig
included some of his color photographs. Sam included some “underground”
news on some bands. Mary Elizabeth wrote an article about the Democratic
candidates. Bob included a reprint of a pro-hemp pamphlet. And Patrick
made this fake coupon advertising a free “blow job” for anyone who buys a
Smiley Cookie at the Big Boy. Some restrictions apply!
There was even a nude photograph (from the back) of Patrick if you can
believe it. Sam had Craig take the picture. Mary Elizabeth told everyone to
keep it a secret that the photograph was Patrick, which everybody did,
except Patrick.
All night, he kept yelling, “Flaunt it, baby! Flaunt it!” which is his
favorite line from his favorite movie, The Producers.
Mary Elizabeth told me she thought that Patrick asked her to put the
photograph in the issue so Brad could have a photograph of him without it
being suspicious, but he wouldn’t say for sure. Brad bought a copy without
even looking at it, so maybe she was right.
When I went to The Rocky Horror Picture Show that night, Mary
Elizabeth was really mad because Craig didn’t show up. Nobody knew why.
Not even Sam. The problem was nobody was there to play Rocky, the
muscular robot (I’m not quite sure what he is). After looking around at
everybody, Mary Elizabeth turned to me.
“Charlie, how many times have you seen the show?”
“Ten.”
“Do you think you can play Rocky?”
“I’m not cut and hunky.”
“It doesn’t matter. Can you play him?”
“I guess.”
“Do you guess or do you know?”
“I guess.”
“Good enough.”

---

The next thing I know, I was wearing nothing but slippers and a bathing
suit, which somebody painted gold. I don’t know how these things happen
to me sometimes. I was very nervous, especially because in the show,
Rocky has to touch Janet all over her body, and Sam was playing Janet.
Patrick kept making jokes that I would get an “erection.” I really hoped this
wouldn’t happen. Once, I got an erection in class and had to go to the
blackboard. It was a terrible time. And when my mind took that experience
and added a spotlight and the fact that I was only wearing a bathing suit, I
panicked. I almost didn’t do the show, but then Sam told me she really
wanted me to play Rocky, and I guess that’s all I really needed to hear.
I won’t go into detail about the whole show, but I had the best time I ever
had in my whole life. I’m not kidding. I got to pretend that I was singing,
and I got to dance around, and I got to wear a “feather boa” in the grande
finale, which I wouldn’t have thought anything of because it’s part of the
show, but Patrick couldn’t stop talking about it.
“Charlie in a feather boa! Charlie in a feather boa!” He just couldn’t stop
laughing.
But the best part was the scene with Janet where we had to touch each
other. It wasn’t the best part because I got to touch Sam and have her touch
me. It’s the exact opposite. I know that sounds dumb, but it’s true. Just
before the scene, I thought about Sam, and I thought that if I touched her in
that way on stage and meant it, it would be cheap. And as much as I think I
might want to someday touch her like that, I never want it to be cheap. I
don’t want it to be Rocky and Janet. I want it to be Sam and I. And I want
her to mean it back. So, we just played.
When the show was over, we all bowed together, and there was applause
everywhere. Patrick even shoved me in front of the rest of the cast to take
my own personal bow. I think this is the initiation for new cast members.
All I could think was how nice it was that everyone applauded for me and
how glad I was that nobody in my family was there to see me play Rocky in
a feather boa. Especially my dad.
I did get an erection, though, but not until later, in the parking lot of the
Big Boy.
That’s when Mary Elizabeth asked me to the Sadie Hawkins’ dance after
she said, “You looked really good in your costume.”
I like girls. I really do. Because they can think you look good in a bathing
suit even when you don’t. The erection made me feel guilty in hindsight

---

though, but I guess it couldn’t be helped.
I told my sister about having a date for the dance, but she was really
distracted. Then, I tried to ask her advice about how to treat a girl on a date
since I’ve never had a date before, but she wouldn’t answer. She wasn’t
being mean. She was just “staring off into space.” I asked her if she was
okay, and she said that she needed to be alone, so I went up and finished