James and I went to the pub, had a few drinks, and he made it very clear any mention of his dead fiancée was off limits. My jet lag resulted in a stagger to my room, but a few days later we slept together. I was immediately drawn to this man, his broken heart, his anger, his humor, and his connection to my childhood. Of course it ended badly, with his shooting out the mansions’ windows with a pellet gun and fucking another woman, an old girlfriend, in the room next to me.
Read MoreHere’s what I knew about the world at seventeen: men could walk on the moon, all good politicians would be assassinated, and people murdered one another for no good reason. Six million Jews, gypsies, gays, Catholics and anyone who lacked Aryan cred were exterminated. Not just Anne Frank. Hippies were doomed to failure and capable of the utmost hypocrisy. The Beatles would never reform. The Summer of Love was over. Adults were treacherous and selfish. Men blame women for being beautiful. Men didn’t like smart girls. Men didn’t want an uncontrollable woman. I was uncontrollable. We dropped an atom bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. My parents got married on the day we bombed Hiroshima. Placing your hands over your head would not protect you from atomic fall out. Cancer was fatal. Heroin was fatal. Love was fatal. I wanted to save everyone I loved from harm. I was powerless to save anyone from anything.
Read MoreSeventh grade was supposed to be set in a brand-new school. Instead, we were sent to attend school in the National Guard Armory. I'm not sure where the National Guard was. After the Kent State shootings, it seemed like everyone was either an anti-war protester or a soldier. That year, the US Selective Service started the first draft lottery date for the Vietnam War. On December 1, 1969, men aged nineteen to twenty-six would be drafted based on their birthdates. The National Guard kept getting photographed looking overwhelmed and miserable at the prospect of beating up more college students.
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