按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
G。
The Nakeds formed the bulk of the J。B。 student body。 I was an uber…Naked。 I was genetically programmed for self…destructive kid iconoclasm。 I expressed it in a buffoonish manner that marked me as harmless。 My antics amused on occasion。 My antics reminded the rank and file that they weren't as whacked…out as I was。 I made them feel secure。 They rewarded me with tolerance and a few pats on the back。 I listened to their spiels； spritzes； and shticks。 I performed impromptu or on mand。 My three…year J。B。 discourse was rarely interactive。
I went for my own jugular。 I trashed liberal pieties and ragged JFK。 I trashed Jewish pieties and yelled； 〃Free Adolf Eichmann！〃 I listened to sincerely fevered classroom debates； measured their value； and voiced ridiculously reasoned opinions calculated to agitate and spawn belly laughs。 I inspired a few sad…assed guys with no riffs of their own。 We became friends。 We dissected the J。B。 boys and stalked theJ。B。 girls that we craved。
I bopped around the lunch court with my stooge； Jack Lift。 We lurked； loitered； listened； and leched。
There's David Friedman。 He pulled in a bundle for his bar mitzvah and laid it down on blue…chip stocks。 There's Bad John and his fat sidekick； 〃Hefty。〃 The word： they pour glue and glass shards on cats and blow them up with cherry bombs。 There's Tony Blankleya weird kid with a British accent。 He's some kind of child actorcatch him in that Bogart flick； 〃The Harder They Fall〃。 There's Jamie Osborne。 Check 〃his〃 British accent。 He says he's James Mason's nephew。
There's Leona Walters。 She's a tall Negro girl。 I danced with her at 〃Co…Ed〃： the mandatory gym class hoedown held on Friday mornings。 Negro kids are accepted magnanimously。 They rate high on the Coolometer。 Teachers and kids dig their victim status and try not to act condescending。 I told my father that I danced with Leona and blushed the whole time。 He said； 〃Once you've had black； you can't go back。〃
Howard Swancy is the alpha dog in J。B。's black litter。 He's abrupt and outspoken and a great athlete。 He's always scoping out weakness in white kids。 He's a dancing motherfucker。 He did the Twist with Miss Byersthis redheaded English teacher with wheels like Cyd Charisse。 The other twisters froze and watched。 The boys' gym dance was never the same。
Steve Price is a little Lenny Bruce manqué。 He's the spritz personified。 He's always trawling for straight men。 He knows how to mine current events for big yocks。
Jay Jaffe is any doppelganger。 He's a popular kid with edgy nerves and some kind of wild hunger。 He's socially deft and a great baseball player。 He's got the stuff to get by on laced in with some crazy shit。 I observe him obsessively。 If I could bite his neck and mix his DNA with mine； I could remake myself and not cede my own essence。
Lizz Gill is a pixielike Hancock Park girl。 She works for wholesome laughs。 She knows the BigJ。B。 Kid Truth： Sex is the ridiculous； consuming thing that life is all about。 There's something subversive in her pedigree。 She probably wouldn't judge me for the dog shit on my living…room floor。
Richard Berkowitz refers to himself in the third…person。 He says； 〃I； the Great Berko have decreed〃 and 〃The Exalted Berko weles you〃 routinely。 He doesn't talk much beyond that。 He's a restrained shtickmeister in a frenetic crowd。 His stated ambition： to serve as the towel boy in the girls' gym forever。
The girls' gym adjoined the boys' gym。 There were no secret passageways between them。 They were separate outposts of Camelot。 The boys' gym was a edy club。 Monomania reigned。 The one joke was sex and the breathlessly close proximity of the girls' gym。 One shtick lasted three whole years。 Boys fluffed out their pubic hair and crooned； 〃Kookie； Kookie； lend me your b！〃
The standard J。B。 romantic form was the serial crush。 Love affairs came and went sans physical contact or mutual acknowledgment。 Crush objects rarely knew that they were crushed on。 It was all decorous and voyeuristic and abetted by intermediaries。
Crushers crushed on crushees and detailed their lust to their crush confidantes。 I cranked my crushes and confidant duty up to sustained surveillance。
There's Leslie Jacobson。 She's willowy。 Her black bouffant bounces and shines。 My stooge； Dave； loves her。 He tracks her across the lunch court。 I run point and linger near her in food lines。 She's the quintessential Teen Fox。 Dave can't get it up to address her。 We discuss her and beat every aspect of her into the ground。 Dave's crush fizzles out and reignites on a new girl。 He carves her initials on his right arm and gets up the guts to show her。 She flees in horror。
I torched my way through Camelot。 I burned flames for Jill Warner； Cynthia Gardner； Donna Weiss； and Kathy Montgomery。
Jill's an in…your…face little blonde。 She'll talk a blue streak to anyone。 Her accessibility marks her as fatally flawed and thus a kindred spirit。 She's hard to stalk。 She keeps spotting me。 She starts intimidating conversations and forces me to respond。 Jill rates high on spunk and low on hauteur。 I crave mystery and elusiveness in my women。 It flips my fantasy switch and gives me groovy shit to talk about with my stalking buddies。
Cynthia； Donna； and Kathy radiated wholesome beauty and hinted at stern character。 I stalked them inside and outside of school and across a big patch of L。A。
Jack Lift backstopped my surveillance。 He lived across the street from Cynthia's pad at 6th and Crescent Heights。 We shined shoes around the corner at the Royal Market and used it as our stakeout point。 We tailed Cynthia around on our bikes the whole Summer of '61。
I knew my love was doomed。 I knew the Berlin Wall thing would escalate to World War III at any moment。 L。A。 was scared。 J。B。 kids stocked up on goods at the Royal Market。 We discussed the crisis and concluded that our time was running out。 I told the kids that I was hot for Armageddon。 They said I was nuts。 Jack and I fucked up their shoes under the guise of free shines。
The world survived。 My crush on Cynthia Gardner didn't。 I entered crush monogamy with Donna and Kathy and torched my J。B。 days down to an ember。
Donna had big eyes and a pageboy hairdo。 She lived at Beverly and Gardnerthe heart of Kosher Canyon。 I set up a voyeur spot by the Pan Pacific Theater and surveilled her after school and on weekends。
I watched her front door。 I watched people enter the synagogues on Beverly。 Jack said they were war refugees。 I perched by the Pan Pacific and watched the parade go by。 I time…tripped back to World War II。 I saved the people with the funny beanies and top hats。 Donna loved me for ituntil I left her for Kathy。
I traded up to a freckled brunette and a big house at 2nd and Plymouth。 I boosted some Ivy League clothes to look more Hancock Park。 The makeover thrilled me。 JFK never looked so good。 I hit a growth spurt； popped over six feet； and rendered my new threads obsolete。 My pincord pants bottomed out at my ankies and drew jeers at 2nd and Plymouth。 I never got up the stones to playJack to Kathy's Jackie。
I was starting to get the picture：
Camelot was a private club and an inside jokeand I didn't know the pass