The Shakeress

by Kimberley Heuston

So I read this book a couple months ago and have been meaning to mention it here so I can add it to my official list, but the truth is that I read it as speed reading practice, so I'm not sure I caught enough of it to properly review it. I will say, though, that Kimberley Heuston is a great writer and a nice person (she and I were in the same writing group for about a week and she said good things about my writing, so obviously she has good taste), and Tolkien Boy is an excellent speed reading teacher (he and I are also in the same writing group--well, it's a different one from the one I was in with Kimberley, but it's the same as--I mean--we're in the same--you get it).

Dear Children of the World,

Contrary to what Dora the Explorer would have you believe, you should never ever ride on a ferris wheel that has just been repaired by a Spanish-speaking parrot, especially if the parrot needed you to tell him where the long pieces go and where the short pieces go.

Sincerely,

Master Fob

Sidekicks

by Dan Danko, Tom Mason, and Barry Gott

In a very nice email David Levithan sent me in response to my not-so nice review of his latest book, he pointed out that I am a good ten years older than the intended audience (note to self: heed your own advice). Keeping that in mind, I found Sidekicks to be a fun and clever read, so long as I reminded myself that I am at least fifteen years older than its intended audience. Speedy, a fourteen-year-old kid able to run about 85 miles per hour, plays sidekick to Pumpkin Pete, a superhero with a pumpkin head and not much else in the way of superpowers. Speedy is also a member of the Sidekicks, a group of, well, sidekicks. The story plays with superheroes, sidekicks, and supervillains in a humorous if not entirely original way. I enjoyed it.





As I worked on a writing project last night and thought back to my teenaged obsession with superheroes, as well as a discussion on Santorio's blog a few weeks ago, I realized that Batman was the epitome of both of my strongest teenage desires: for man-as-father-figure and for man-as-sexual-object. I envied Robin as much for his role as Batman's adopted son as I did for whatever homoerotic connotations there were to their relationship. This week I read a recent Batman story in which Bruce Wayne offers to legally adopt the latest Robin, Tim Drake. Tim, overwhelmed by the recent loss of not only his father but also his best friend and his girlfriend, falls into Bruce and the two hug. (I might point out that the two are both dressed in tights at this point.) I read this and noted that it was a nice moment, a touching end to the story. I did not, however, obsess over the scene or ache to put myself in Robin's boots.

I think I've managed to grow up over the last ten years, at least a little bit.

Zero

Today was my last day at Fobanna. Yay!

I pray I'll never have to work retail again.

Testing

Why can I post here but not on the Foblog?

Another Untitled Post

As part of my training for my new position as an admissions application reader, I've been assessing applications from last year's batch. I came across one yesterday in which the applicant mentioned in his personal statement that he is one of few openly gay students at his high school. That struck a chord with me for the same reason David Levithan's books about openly and happily gay teenagers do--I see in these stories an opportunity missed.

I'm not sure that, even if I had not had my own religious conflict and internalized homophobia to deal with, I could have been openly gay in my high school. Hawaii is a rather liberal and accepting place, but high school is high school. Even the popular kids who everyone knew were gay didn't actually come out until after graduation; my status as a geeky white kid would not have been helped by openness about my orientation. Still, though, the thought of growing up as a teenager in a world where I could have been as comfortable with my sexuality as straight kids are is appealing. Not that any teenager is comfortable with his or her sexuality, but, for example, dating could have been the normally traumatic experience it is for most teens instead of the uniquely traumatic experience it was for me as I tried desperately to fit into the role expected of a straight Mormon boy.

It would be propagandistic of me to say I have no regrets about the life I've chosen for myself. Of course I have regrets. Who doesn't? Looking at my life holistically, I am happy with who I am, but that doesn't mean I don't ache a little every time I see two men holding hands or read about a seventeen-year-old boy resting his head on his boyfriend's chest. Despite the ache, though, and regardless of the happiness I experience as a heterosexually-married husband and father, I'm happy for the kid who felt comfortable enough with himself to be openly gay in high school and to talk about it in his admissions application. I hope he can experience the happiness I do and avoid some of the ache.

Because Thanksgiving Can Last All Year Long

Today I am thankful for the shopping cart in the Target parking lot that kept my new $15 windshield wiper safe for the 45 minutes it took me to drive home, unload all my other purchases from the trunk, realize I didn't have the wiper, and drive back to Target. I am also thankful for my new $15 windshield wiper that, true to its extravagant pricing, actually wipes liquid off my windshield.