There's something I've never told you.
When my family relocated from Royal Oak to Bay City, Michigan in 1957, I was the consummate outsider in my new school.
Somehow, I was chosen by the girls in my fifth grade class as the "King of Hearts." I concluded, logically, that it was simply because I was the new guy on the block. My neighbor, the gorgeous Vicky Steadman, was chosen as Queen of Hearts. She didn't need to be new or old, she was simply the prettiest girl imaginable.
Today, when I picked my kids up from school, my (not quite yet) 12-year-old had a heart drawn on his cheek. Turns out three eighth grade girls drew it with eye shadow because they think he is "cool."
I am quite sure he is as clueless today, in 2008, as I was 51 years ago. But I'm happy for him, and hopeful that he finds out earlier than I did how attractive he really is to girls.
-30-
p.s. He's decided that whenever people ask about his hat that he will say he's a "Communist." That's bound to be cool if any girls even know what a Communist is!
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