Setting the Stage
IT TOOK ME LESS THAN a week to realize that Winnetka, where my family moved when I was in sixth grade, was a significant upgrade from small-town Ohio. We now lived a stone’s throw from a real, major city, a place with no shortage of culture. And for the first time in my life, I was surrounded by other Jews. No one wanted to fart on me while proclaiming, “Gas chamber!”
For one hot minute I was not an outcast but an interesting curiosity: the new kid. Was he cool? Was he smart? Was he suave? Was he good at rollerblading? I was none of these, but I tried to live in this moment of pseudo-popularity for as long as it would last. Girls even approached me. Now, this was frightening because I feared the opposite sex greatly. When they tried to talk to me, I would have an internal parts breakdown, unable to compute the complex theories of “flirt,” “talk,” or “Just say something, man!” So I stuttered my
