I listened to In Zanesville by Jo Ann Beard because it fulfilled the prompt for a book about teen angst in the Pop Sugar Reading Challenge.
In this book, we have a fourteen-year-old girl growing up in Zanesville, Illinois. We never learn her name, but she shares the name of one of the girls in Little Women and I deduce it is Jo, like the author, but that's me making a lot of assumptions. ANYWAY, this girl and her best friend Felicia (Flea) go on adventures in Zanesville. There's a babysitting fiasco that involves the fire department, sick kittens they're hiding from their parents, and lots of drama about boys.
Lines of note:
I have an affinity for anything that has peeled off fur or looks terminal, or, for that matter, for anything that seems to notice me. (timestamp 57:20)
Ha! I was exactly like this as a young person. Sick bird? Let me at it. A rando boy gives me the time of day? Obviously I'm in love.
Mr. Wilton, the teacher, pays attention only to the first chair musicians and the percussionists, a gang of unruly thick-waisted boys wielding drumsticks, gongs, and triangles. (timestamp 1:41:59)
YES!! This was band. My band teacher was Mr. Wilson, though. This is hilarious. I didn't know the band class experience was so ubiquitous.
I'd like to be the kind of person who does something weird and not become weird because of it, but that's out of reach for me. I am what I do at this point and if I do this, I'm done for. Once I march in their parade, I will be in it forever... (timestamp 1:49:45)
I think I am just a weird person.
One of the more memorable things I ever read back here were the Cliff's Notes for Moby-Dick, which I found in a box of old comic books my mother brought home. It was a gripping story, but also sickening. Mostly what I took from it was that nobody on a whaling ship has much sympathy for a whale. (timestamp 5:05:50)
Moby-Dick is everywhere!!!!
Hat mentions (why hats?):
little hat I wore in kindergarten that had yarn pigtails and a girl's face embroidered on the back of the head (timestamp 1:09:52)
the hats are hard blue cylinders with a short white brim (timestamp 1:39:14) - I honestly can't tell from accent if it's white or wide, so if I got it wrong, I apologize
First problem: the hat is resting on my ears (timestamp 1:39:34)
The hats are at least eight inches tall (timestamp 1:39:59)
In the hat, she looks at tall as the Empire State Building (timestamp 1:49:27)
our instruments and our hats (timestamp 1:52:14)
under their hats (timestamp 1:55:58)
What about when I was a kindergartner and had on my favorite little hat with yarn pigtails and a face embroidered on the back and a sixth grade boy who I was enchanted with started teasing me by speaking only to my hat? (timestamp 2:09:47)
paper hat askew (timestamp 2:33:09)
man's grey hat (timestamp 3:15:28)
fishing hat (timestamp 3:23:37)
vinyl Carnaby Street hat (timestamp 4:04:10)
birthday hats (timestamp 5:07:37)
Easter hat (timestamp 6:19:19)
grey hat (timestamp 6:57:10)
taking his hat out of his pocket (timestamp 7:28:15)
eyeliner and a hat like the one they tried on me (timestamp 8:14:14)
fishing hats (timestamp 8:27:58)
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Does anyone have a disastrous babysitting story from their youth? Did you ever have to call the police or fire department? Do you say the word cereal as if your tongue is all tangled up?

I do NOT want to read that sad article so I am NOT clicking on the link! I'll take your word for it. I babysat a ton when I was young and there were lots of cute, well-behaved kids, and a few that were absolute terrors. One, his mother told me that NO MATTER WHAT, do not let this kid eat pickles. NO MATTER WHAT. Okay! Noted! I am thirteen, I can do what I'm told. Why they even have pickles in the house is a mystery. But the kid asks for pickles, I say no, but let's play a game (or whatever I did back then), then the kid goes into the fridge, grabs the jar of pickles, SMASHES IT ON THE FLOOR, and starts eating pickles off the floor with the broken glass. I seem to have blocked it out, what I did to stop this mess, but whatever I did the parents loved me and called me often to babysit. However, I was traumatized and never went again. Another traumatic thing had to do with what could have been sexual assault but wasn't - I was babysitting for new people and had the kids in bed, was watching TV or whatever. Then some strange man comes in! Apparently a "friend" of the dad's. Again, I'm like 13 or 14. This man sits on the couch with me, tells me I can go home because "he can handle the kids." I say that I think I need to stay, so he offers me a beer. I say, no thank you. He sits all close to me. I say "I think I'm going to clean the kitchen." So I go and do some dishes or something while this creep keeps telling me that he didn't know they had a pretty babysitter, etc. I'm FAR from home so I need to wait for the parents to get home to drive me. It never once occurred to me to call my own parents. I guess this was late-80s attitudes that whatever happened would be my fault. But NOTHING did happen, I rewashed dishes like you wouldn't believe while this guy hung around the kitchen, and then the parents got home and were very surprised to see this guy who had literally just walked into their house. I refused to babysit for them ever again.
ReplyDeleteI say cereal sear-ee-ell.
So was the creep a friend of the dad, or just a stranger? Either way, CREEPY.
DeleteHe was a friend of the dad, but he just "stopped by" and the parents were very confused because they had said they weren't going to be home OH MY GOD MAYBE HE CAME ON PURPOSE TO PERV ON THE BABYSITTER
DeleteHe was clearly there to perv on the babysitter! HOW YUCKY.
DeleteI wouldn't have called my parents, either. Isn't that crazy? I was told to figure things out on my own, so I would have tried to figure things out on my own!
This book sounds really good, but I'm with Nicole- I will NOT be reading a super sad article. I see that the girl in this book shares my opinion about Moby Dick (so mean to the whale!!!) Seriously, this book does sound good. I say "cereal" the normal way, but I guess that's because I grew up in northern Illinois, not southern.
ReplyDeleteI mean, she technically says cereal correctly, but it sounds like there are marbles in her mouth or she's swallowing her tongue or something. It's a unique thing to people with the slightest of a southern accent. I really liked that the author read it herself. If had been a professional, the whole thing would have felt a lot more stiff.
DeleteI babysat way too much as a kid. I didn't have any disasters that required the police or fire department, thank goodness. There was one family that had a chart of "BMs" on the wall for the whole family. The mom said I should put a checkmark up whenever a kid had a "BM". I was 12 or 13, and had to ask what a BM was....and then was horrified. I never went there again.
ReplyDeleteI say sear-ee-ell. I'm very curious to hear how souther Illinois says it.
The WHOLE FAMILY??
DeleteBibliomama, yes. The whole family. Blech.
DeleteI sort of think that's funny. Ha! Maybe because we talk about BMs way too often in our household.
DeleteThis book sounds really good. I think I say cereal normal, but my grandma used to say girl like gurl. When I kept having boy babies, she'd always say "I hope you have a little gurl." I loved how she said girl. She was, of course, over the moon when I finally had a female variety baby.
ReplyDeleteI have many babysitting disasters. Once when I was in 7th or 8th grade, the mom told me the pharmacy was gonna call about an antibiotic or something for one of the kids. The pharmacy people were rude to me, couldn't believe I wasn't the mom. I was just trying to take down the info. When the mom got home, I told the story - but I of course broke down crying. So embarrassing, but I was rattled. She called the pharmacy and let them have it (the next day, because this was late at night).
Once when I was babysitting across the street, the little boy took me to the garage to see their new puppy, who was in his cage. Maybe the garage was heated but there was snow drifts outside, so why was the dog in the garage? Anyway, we left the door to the house open, but the little sister, who I'd already put to bed, came into the garage and slammed the door and we were locked out of the house. Thankfully we lived across the street, so I carried them over the two foot snow drifts into my house. My dad lost his temper with me, shouting about how irresponsible I was, and what if we hadn't lived across the street. I was in 8th grade. It was awful. I sobbed. We had to stay at my house until we saw that the parents came home, because no cell phones or anything. The mom always came home VERY tipsy, so she just laughed. My dad was more upset than they were.
Fortunately nothing as weird as Michelle and the BM chart. What the what?
Oh, man, a cat locked me out of a shared house once and I was a grown ass adult. It can happen to anyone! I'm sorry your dad was so upset about it. Accidents happen!
Delete