Letter to Ronnie

 Sometimes I listen to, or pull up and read the lyrics, of Janis Ian's great song "At Seventeen," and I regret how some kids were treated and I participated. Even if I didn't participate actively,  I stood aside and said nothing. I think of Peggy Candreia and the friendship I had with her in high school. I knew about her and it didn't bother me because I knew her, not the image of I thought a person was, or is. Sometimes I mourn over how some kids were treated, sometimes I've even cried over it. I was so marginalized myself for my eccentric life that I didn't have energy, or courage, left over to defend anyone else. But I regret not being stronger. There are few things in life that  I regret, but that is one. I think about white privilege and how it just fell upon us and how we accepted it. Never one time did we have to fight for places at the movies, in a restaurant, in a store. Never once were we told to leave because we were white. "At Seventeen" is an anthem for girls who weren't as pretty and I think about girls I didn't ask out because they weren't as pretty as Carol, Pam, Janis, Sue Nan. I also think about the girls whom I didn't feel equal to and I was afraid to ask out because I was sure they wouldn't go with me. After my divorce from Connie, I dated many women. My sales training had taught me that a rejection allowed me to move on to the next customer so I never let "no" stop me from asking women out. I began to use dating services because I wanted to avoid smokers and drinkers, so in the eight years between marriages I dated around 80 women. I actually got really tired of dating and I stopped. Charlotte and I were just friends and we expected nothing more. But I have that shallow value that I did tend to like pretty to beautiful women. So, I regret that I may have hurt a girl in school by my selfishness and every time I hear Janis Ian sing "At Seventeen" I am reminded of it, and I am punished for it.