Boy Crazy

Boy Crazy: The Secret Life of a 1950s Girl

LOTS OF LAUGHS AND A FEW WELL-EARNED TEARS
A TIME-BOUND TALE WITH TIMELESS APPEAL

Angela‛s home life forces her to grow up too fast. A popular school leader and “closet nerd,” Angela responds by enshrining carefree fun as a virtue when it comes to the opposite sex.

Bart Aikens, filmmaker, The Vampire’s Dance

• How does a good girl coming of age in 1950s Albany, New York, play the field when boys control the dating game?

• The boys who like Angela aren‛t always the ones she pines for in her diary.

• Angela is dismayed that boys look down on the girls they have pushed to go all the way.

• She wants to avoid a fast reputation but yearns for no-strings-attached flirtations and slow dances with as many cute guys as she can juggle.

• Angela confides in and treasures her emancipated, artistic mentor.

• Sparks fly when her parents bar Angela from acting on her dating preferences.

• The events of one summer night forever color Angela‛s family relationships but cannot diminish her boy-crazy ways.

The secret thrills in Angela‛s Boy Crazy diary harken back to the days when Elvis was young and cell phones, computers, and the sexual revolution had yet to change American life.

Reading Boy Crazy is like being a GoPro action camera in the life of a girl, getting to see through her eyes as she grows from child to young woman in a life filled with boys, men, happy times and tragedies, dances and historical events…this is life in the raw…Boy Crazy provides a refreshingly unique journey…Angela is aware and involved…I loved this book and the vicarious living it provided.

Sherre Lovick, novelist, aerospace engineer, pilot, musician, dancer

C’mon, let’s admit it. We’d look, if we could, at that diary of a lover, friend, or family member. We would. We want to know the secrets. We don’t look, of course, out of courtesy and politeness. But what if someone courageously offered us a look into her diary, into her life, her mind, her heart? I found the look Angela offered fascinating, entertaining, and moving. Now it’s your turn. Go ahead, take a look. You know you want to.

Will Jarvis, author, artist, public speaker, activist
www.willjarvis.com www.erinstarfox.com

BOY CRAZY EXCERPTS

SATURDAY NIGHT, NEW YEAR’S EVE 1949: NIGHTMARE

“Mommy! Daddy!” I want my mommy and daddy. I’m frightened! I keep calling, but no one comes. Where are they? “Daddy! Mommy!” I had a scary dream. I hear the wind howling outside. The tree branches are slapping the window. “Mommy! Daddy!” I’m alone in a giant bed. I can see through the thin white curtains. It’s nighttime outside. It’s dark in this big room. I can hardly see the pretty flowered wallpaper. I’m in Grandma C’s upstairs guest room. I’ve never slept here before. I’m a big girl. I’m almost five. But I’m afraid! “Daddy! Mommy!” It seems as if days go by before I hear footsteps. The door opens. I see Grandma with the hall light behind her. She’s wearing a long, white flannel nightgown. She is shorter than Mommy and Daddy and the other grown-ups. She has a gray braid of hair. It goes almost down to her tushy. Yesterday I told Mommy, “Your mommy is really old.”

Mommy laughed and said, “She’s only seventy. It’s not that old.”

Grandma commands, “Gay schluffen! Gay schluffen!” She speaks only Yiddish. Though I don’t know Yiddish, I remember this means, “Go to sleep!” But I’m afraid. I want my parents or even my brown bear to hug. Grandma doesn’t hug me. She doesn’t come near me. She’s in the doorway, a dark shape against the light. Over and over, I hear, “Gay schluffen!”

“Daddy! Mommy!” I keep crying for my parents. At home in Albany, I don’t cry. In our apartment, I’m not afraid. I stay with sitters when my parents go out. I sleep in a daybed in the living room. Here in Gloversville, I’m many miles from home. I haven’t been alone with Grandma before. I don’t know whether I like her. Even though I need a hug, I’m not sure I want her to hug me. She doesn’t smell good. “Mommy! Daddy!” I become more upset. I keep calling them. Grandma never comes into the room.

Finally, after more orders of “Gay schluffen,” she closes the door and leaves. I’m scared. I’m all alone again. It’s very dark. As her footsteps go down the hall, the floor creaks. Then I hear only the storm outside. I see a white thing on the arm chair by the window. It’s my rabbit-fur muff! Aunt Sara gave it to me on my birthday. I love it! If I touch it, I might feel better. But it’s dark. I’m afraid to get out of bed.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Nothing happens. Why don’t they come? Oh! I remember. They got all dressed up.

Daddy said, “We’re going to the Jewish Community Center with Uncle Abner and Aunt Myrna.”

I asked Mommy, “Why aren’t Aunt Sara and Uncle Jules here?”

Mommy said, “They live too far away. Spring Valley is near NYC.”

“Daddy! Mommy!” I’m still alone in the dark. I try to get out of bed. But it’s too cold and scary. I yell their names more. I cry louder and faster…

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 18, 1959: MOST POPULAR

In our yearbook election, I was amazed and happy to win most popular girl and most versatile girl in my homeroom! I told Sara, “Artie got most popular boy! I‛m glad that best personality went to my hilarious favorites: Craig and Eva. Smart homeroom veep Eva got and deserved most likely to succeed! Cute Lon won best-looking and best-dressed boy. Homeroom treasurer Luke got best physique and biggest flirt. The school dance included a real jam session by a terrific band. Dancing with five boys, mainly Craig, was fun!”

Smiling, Sara said, “I‛m happy about your two wins!”

Dad congratulated me.

Tumba said, “Spended (sic)!”

Mom said nothing. Because she wasn‛t popular in school, is she envious?