... and not just because I'm over fourteen.
He would have liked me at twelve. I was innocent once, and I held on to my innocence till well into sixth grade, when a mean girl suggested I was a little too old to still wear my favorite pinafore.
No, he wouldn't like me because I watched Salinger just last night. I don't know why I let it sit in my Netflix queue so long. It was just wonderful, even though you have to be on your guard when the life of a man at 91 is edited down to two hours. ("I was made a villain in the editing!" cried J.D. Salinger, reality star. He isn't a villain, of course, just a huge fan of quirky innocent young girls. )
Mom was alive when Joyce Maynard sold his letters and published her book. Mom's venom and disdain made me wonder if Mom had a personal attachment to J.D. too.
I do feel bad that I suggested Seymour Glass was a pedophile. But, can't help it, it's the reader's filter. Pedophiles I know, shell-shock I don't.
So, imagine my delight when the documentary said the work Salinger has been doing since the sixties would be released starting in 2015 and extending to 2050.
Imagine my despair when I realized I would die before I got to see the last few works.
Imagine my joy when I woke up today to the news just today on CNN that three Salinger stories had been released illicitly ahead of their 2050 deadline.
And if you've seen the documentary, imagine my horror when I read the stories here and found typos. (Yes! I read them! I'm gonna die before they come out in 2050!) They are in order from most to least perfect. Read them if you don't have fifty years to wait.
Update: It's been taken down. I'll remember the first one forever.