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Dear reader (s):

Let's talk about sex.

Where did you learn how to make babies? For us, it was Howard Wiseman.

My age group (third and fourth graders) had the largest numbers of kids in the neighborhood full of identical brick side-by-side duplexes, priced at $12,500 to be affordable for WWII GIs starting out on the road to post war paradise and the American dream. There were few older kids. One was Howard, who was a sophomore in high school. The other two guys in the neighborhood his age would have nothing to do with him. They thought he was disturbed, and he was. He used to torture baby turtles in various ways (hammers, firecrackers, scissors, use your imagination) that he'd buy from the five and ten. He used to sing a variation on a song, "You're beatiful, you're 16, and your mine." He'd sing, "You're beautiful, you're 16, and you're my mother," because he claimed his mother was the best-looking one in the neighbhorhood. He had street maps of every major U.S. city, and he could tell you the shortest route to get from Bevely Hills, for example, to Pasedena.

We didn't want Howard hanging around with us, either, except he threatened to beat us up individually and collectively if we didn't let him.

One summer night, a bunch of us (Stu, Eddie, Teddy, Jack, Arthur, and me) were out in the scruffy woods behind Schenley Manor Drive (sounds fancy, but it wasn't), smoking the Salems Jack had stolen from his parents. We were coming up with various explanations as to how our parents made babies. It seemed as if everyone's mother was pregnant at the time. I was convinced that if two people got married and lived together, a part of the mother's stomach turned into a baby, but no one was buying my theory. Eddie said it had something to do with the man sticking his dick into a the woman and squirting in her. I had this image of my father peeing into my mother's ass.

Howard discovered us and gave us the lowdown. He told us the man gets his pecker hard, sticks it up the woman's twat and shoots his wad (whatever that was) into her vagina (wherever the hell that was--he later told us it was her peehole), and nine months later you had a baby. He told us it was called sex but we were just little fuckers and we weren't old enough to get our peckers hard and shoot the wad. He said he for him it was easy, he could do it whenever he wanted, and he offered to demonstrate. He unzipped his pants.

We took off. When I got home, my mother asked me what was wrong. Of course, I said "nothing." My parents never looked the same to me again. I made a vow to myself not to get married, which I have broken twice now.

The last I heard of Howard, he was still in Pittsburgh, working at a hot dog shop behind the grill. I guess if I ever need directions I could look him up.
posted by marc at Monday, July 14, 2003