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You weren’t looking for it. It was an accident. It fell on you. In your garage – next to boxes of Christmas Tree ornaments – all your dad’s Magazines. Gent, Dude, Escapade, Knight, Cavalier, Swank, Adam; naked women everywhere.

Your head is exploding. It’s the Holy Grail – there must be at least a hundred. And books – Life And Loves Of Frank Harris – Lesbian Gym – Bound To Please. It’s a gold mine.

Big ugly dread sweeps over you – what if your dad catches you? He’ll hide them so you’ll never find them. Palms drip with sweat and brain ready to pop out your head, you grab a shopping bag and shove as many as you can and run into your bedroom and stash them in your closet. Safe keeping.

It’s all you can think about – you just imagined – never quite wrapped your head around it. But here it is – it fell in your lap. You have bragging rights!

You tell the guys during recess – you describe your treasure trove in eye-raising detail – they gasp – they want to see. They beg you to share the wealth and bring some to school. You oblige. You keep your favorites and load your backpack. You have become the most popular person in your 7th grade class. Lunchtime and your backpack becomes a library. Guys disappear and magazines come back dog-eared. They offer lunch money to buy some of your stash. You see a business opportunity.

Guys who used to hassle you during passing period now want to be your friend. They smile at you and give a thumbs up when you stop at your locker. They are throwing their lunch money at you.

You’ve never had this many friends before – you can get used to this.

But somewhere in the middle of your 6th period Geography class Mr. Delmar, the boys VP, pulls your teacher aside and points in your direction.

Having left your stomach in the second seat of the fourth row you are now sitting quietly shaking in Mr. Delmar’s office; a stack of Gent, Dude, Escapade, Knight, Cavalier, Swan and Adam magazines sit next to him. Worse – your dad is sitting across from you, busy giving you death stares.

The speech – the warnings – the grounding – the dismantling of your room, leaving only your bed, your desk and your radio. You’ve been reduced to the life of a Trappist Monk for the foreseeable future.

The best you can do is lie in bed, stare at the ceiling and listen to your radio while pictures of Rhonda, Brenda, Bambi and Blaze race across your brain.

Here is a half hour’s worth of KRLA with Ted Quillan from January 6, 1964 to keep you company.

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