A few months ago, I wrote a post called Butt Rock Friday in which I called someone from my teenaged past a scumbag. I just received an email from his sister telling me that I should think about what I write before posting and her brother was not a scumbag. My bad.
In truth, he wasn't. He was just a gorgeous seventeen year old male doing what gorgeous seventeen year old males are wont to do.
Alfalfa was a weird place to grow up. I've actually thought many times about writing a memoir called "Surviving Alfalfa", but am afraid of getting sued if I wrote about the inhabitants of that wonderful, backward community.
When I remember Alfalfa, it's with both a pang of longing and a shudder of revulsion. But isn't that the normal way to remember the place where you came of age?
I didn't fit in, but Lordy, did I try. And we had some major fun, as well. We snuck out a lot, drank a lot, and got into trouble, but what else was there to do? The stories I could tell... but I won't!
Anyway, my apologies to the nonscumbag and his family!