Once I Heard About Vaginas

(Vaginae?) Though I’m not interested in them, I actually have spent a fair amount of time… uh… “involving” them. What exactly that might mean, I leave to your imagination.

When I was eleven, my class took a trip to Hinsdale, IL to attend the Robert Crown Center for Health Education. I don’t remember that much about the trip itself, but I do remember the bus ride. Miles of Illinois nothingness I’ve since traversed many times — usually to O’Hare, but also to the city. Chicago is my third home (Rockford, where I live, and Boston where I once lived are one and two), but Chicago will always have the feel of home. Perhaps someday I’ll live there, though I’m destined for Seattle, I think. Given the opportunity, maybe London or Prague even. We shall see.

Now, in sixth grade, my parents chose not to allow me to attend the official sex ed. class offered by my school. I’d largely figured most everything out by then, of course, but it’s the bus ride rather than human anatomy that I remember most about that earlier trip. A Coach bus, standard-issue, rainbow-coloured seats, deplorable air-conditioning, yes, but what I recall most is my good friend B. sharing with me Eminem’s debut album. My experience with hip-hop of any sort at that time was practically nil, so this was a revelation.

“Just Don’t Give a Fuck” in particular was mind-opening. As the grass rolled by, weeds, cows and the inevitable wasteland between Rockford and the city, Eminem was telling me he just doesn’t give a fuck. And guess what? Nor do I. That was an important moment in the intellectual development of this Benji.

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~ by Benji on 3 February 2016.

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