Apr 13, 2023·edited Apr 13, 2023Liked by Sari Botton, Laurie Stone
I once found myself for five years in the position of having to politely serve a dude from my past at the cafe where I worked in my 50s, and he seemed to think he was high and mighty to my low and humiliated except I wasn’t. (He recognized me but I didn’t recognize him, btw). I loved that job. For one thing it was quite the inoculation against becoming, or dating (sometimes the same thing) a douchebag like him! And for another, I didn’t know many people my age who’d have even asked for that job, much less loved and thrived in it. I was proud to get that job and all the other ones I took and still take while corporations give me that glazed over look the boys gave you in high school! (Most boys/men looked frightened whenever I looked at them, their eyes saying, “no, don’t choose me!” I get it already!)
Another great piece by Laurie Stone. Keep them coming!
(I always come late to these discussions, but this time I've got the excuse of Covid. It's a very mild case, but to all oldsters who think, as I did, that it is over and your five vaccines saved you, I learned otherwise.)
I know Woodmere Academy because I knew people who went there and in the early 70s my friends and I used to play baseball there on weekends because one friend's brother worked there. In my first short story collection, there's a character who's a student there. It's now Lawrence Woodmere Academy. The Five Towns are a very different place today.
Ah, the old bumping-into-a-high-school-aquaintance story. Loved this one. I purposely avoid reunions. I was friends with a few gals on FB who were the mean girls in HS. Guess what? They're still mean.
I loved every syllable of this. The unkind boys whose eyes glaze over and the power they yield - made me think of boys I knew in high school, and, in the extreme, of Brett Kavanaugh. Here's to the freedom of being tied to zero expectations and to your great essay, Laurie Stone. Rock those leopard pants!
😂😂. In high school, our class did a visit to our county jail. One kid pointed at me and said, Michael’s going here after high school. Everyone laughed. Just after high school, at 19, the prediction came true. Thankfully I got sober at 27, in 2010.
I've always said I was more scared of waking up to find I'm still in high school than waking up in a crematorium. But my husband, a fellow classmate, has dragged me back to high school reunions over the years. Funny thing is, it's like being inoculated against a dread disease: my high school shame has (almost) vanished.
Thanks, dear Sari Botton, brilliant writer and editor, for this joyous collaboration. I love having a column on Oldster. xxL
I once found myself for five years in the position of having to politely serve a dude from my past at the cafe where I worked in my 50s, and he seemed to think he was high and mighty to my low and humiliated except I wasn’t. (He recognized me but I didn’t recognize him, btw). I loved that job. For one thing it was quite the inoculation against becoming, or dating (sometimes the same thing) a douchebag like him! And for another, I didn’t know many people my age who’d have even asked for that job, much less loved and thrived in it. I was proud to get that job and all the other ones I took and still take while corporations give me that glazed over look the boys gave you in high school! (Most boys/men looked frightened whenever I looked at them, their eyes saying, “no, don’t choose me!” I get it already!)
Another great piece by Laurie Stone. Keep them coming!
(I always come late to these discussions, but this time I've got the excuse of Covid. It's a very mild case, but to all oldsters who think, as I did, that it is over and your five vaccines saved you, I learned otherwise.)
I know Woodmere Academy because I knew people who went there and in the early 70s my friends and I used to play baseball there on weekends because one friend's brother worked there. In my first short story collection, there's a character who's a student there. It's now Lawrence Woodmere Academy. The Five Towns are a very different place today.
Ah, the old bumping-into-a-high-school-aquaintance story. Loved this one. I purposely avoid reunions. I was friends with a few gals on FB who were the mean girls in HS. Guess what? They're still mean.
I loved every syllable of this. The unkind boys whose eyes glaze over and the power they yield - made me think of boys I knew in high school, and, in the extreme, of Brett Kavanaugh. Here's to the freedom of being tied to zero expectations and to your great essay, Laurie Stone. Rock those leopard pants!
Wow, this...
I have been sold short the way many others are sold short as we look out the window of ourselves and say, "Wait, what? You don’t know who I am.”
😂😂. In high school, our class did a visit to our county jail. One kid pointed at me and said, Michael’s going here after high school. Everyone laughed. Just after high school, at 19, the prediction came true. Thankfully I got sober at 27, in 2010.
Michael Mohr
‘Sincere American Writing’
https://michaelmohr.substack.com/
Lovely essay!
I've always said I was more scared of waking up to find I'm still in high school than waking up in a crematorium. But my husband, a fellow classmate, has dragged me back to high school reunions over the years. Funny thing is, it's like being inoculated against a dread disease: my high school shame has (almost) vanished.
I love this
I enjoyed this very much.
Sold short only to one day be my favorite writer.
Love this!
“ I have been sold short, and oh the freedom of being tied to zero expectations for you.” You are so right. Do I know you? HA! Perfect, TY