The lagniappe of latency over, ABS is pensive about puberty, was the title of the memoir he wrote during summer school vacation following eighth grade.
Back then, when ABS self-published his book and began selling it to his neighbors, many of his potential customers responded to the pitch by saying, You're Charlie's kid, right? and then they'd slowly shake their heads and close the door.
ABS did sell one copy of his memoir to a High School Science teacher but during the sale he became uneasy when the teacher asked, Are there any home movies of you bouncing on the low spring board at the community swimming pool?
You know, a lot of people back then said my memoir did not amount to much, Look, they'd frown, you're just some anonymous lil' asshole from some nothing hayseed town who has done nothing that I'd be interested in reading about.
Tell ya what; once you get older and get drunk and run your car into a tree and die or become a brain damaged cripple or you jump into Staughton Pond immediately after lunch and drown, then, maybe, just maybe, I'd be interested in you and what you have to say but until then why don't you run along and use a fungo bat to hit the bull frogs you lil' bastids throw at each other or burn some ants or whatever the hell it is you bohunk bastids do in that godforsaken hell hole you call your home town.