Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Shame and humiliation are the obverse side of pride and triumph, the common currency of adolescence. Very often, the former is a direct result of the latter — and so this new section, "Youthful Indiscretions." A space for memories of failures small and large, of hubris upbraided and whatever other, well, lapses of taste or judgement I find the courage to share with those who might be interested.
I am in large part inspired by an off-hand remark with which Livejournal's Mijopo recently reminded me of Steve Penney, a one-time goalie for the Montreal Canadiens who was, briefly, seen as the second coming of Ken Dryden.
Which led me to dig out one of my (thankfully) rare efforts at poetry. If I can trust the hand-written date scrawled at the bottom of my mimeographed copy (and I believe that I can), I wrote it in March of 1985. I was (it's hard to believe, but true) 20 years old and in my sixth (and last!) year of high school and I presented it to my creative writing class feeling smugly certain I had pulled off something both clever and moving.
My class-mates disagreed. Those who didn't get it thought it was stupid; and those who did get it? They thought it was stupid too. Click here if you want to pass your own judgement.