![]() Back in my days at the preschool Richie's Picks Home All About Me "...sometimes we live no particular way but our own..."
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"I smiled and stretched my neck. On a morning like this, there was nothing better than burning through six cans, getting narced on the fumes, and smoking a cigarette." Before dawn (and school), in a parking lot at 95th and Third Avenue in Manhattan, a talented young artist and his two friends are at work.
"Greg and Kodak had given me the nickname Thet, because DOA was just a little too suspicious and my O came out as a perfect theta. They told our teachers it was because I was the top Greek student, but all the other guys in our grade knew the truth. And pretty soon Thet had more street cred than any other prep-school hood in Collier history... That was several years ago, before a tragic and violent event caused Nick to retire his nickname and his cans of Krylon. But now, over the course of a weekend, Thet is abruptly reincarnated when Nick is forced to dive back into the prep school gangster underworld in order to save the life of Kris' younger brother. Danny was caught with the wrong girl and now members of the MK II crew are out for blood. There have been a number of edgy books written about rich Manhattan adolescents. For the first time, I have found a character in one of these books about whom I care deeply. (Several characters, actually.) Nick (a.k.a. Thet) is a kid whose father's disappearance and mother's remarriage have resulted both in haunted memories of childhood and a current home life that is unhappy and uncomfortable. Nick is trying to come to terms with his reaction to that violent event, trying to come to terms with what kind of person he really is, and trying to deal with the fact that he is in love with Kris, who has been there for him--as his best friend. Nick and Kris live in expensive digs in Manhattan. When they walk out past the doorman, they encounter a Manhattan in October that the author paints as hard and gray: "As I jogged across 92nd Street, looking for a payphone, all I heard was the occasional clicking of traffic lights and the steady breathing of steaming manholes. Birds don't sing on Broadway." "A stale breeze sped through the station and sent ripples across the dark puddles spotting the train tracks. The train was coming. In New York City, you can smell the train before you see it." Manhattan always held quite a mystique for me as I was growing up out on Long Island. It was a place that my parents had no desire to visit, that we would ride yellow school buses in and out of on school field trips, and that I'd slip into at night with friends to see concerts. I'd have eerie dreams about the hidden side of the City that I'd imagine existed. "Prep school hoods could only exist in a city like New York. Take the average pissed-off teenage guy, add a platinum card and workaholic parents, and put him in a city where every drink, drug, and weapon can be delivered within the hour, and there's a good chance he'll end up like Greg or Derrick. Suburban kids just don't have the toys." Jake Coburn's portrait of the casual sex, drugs and violence, juxtaposed against Nick's search for himself, is a picture that is compelling and haunting.
Richie Partington |
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