Books by Glenda Young

Thursday, December 15, 2011

A man for our times

When I was growing up, as a teenager, these are the sort of boys I went to school with and grew up with. They were daft lads, dodgy geezers, nutters, skinheads, radgy gadgees, workie tickets.  At school discos, they only danced with each other, and they only ever jumped up and down at the edge of the dance floor, and they never, ever, danced with a girl.

In the 80s they softened. Some of them even wore eye-liner. And for this, some of them got beaten up.

And I look at the boys on TV now, the soft boys, the crying boys, the wearing their heart on their sleeve boys. The boys who dance with girls. The boys who have girls for friends.Who talk for hours on the phone. The insecure boys who bleed all over Facebook, unafraid to show the world that he's got feelings too. And I think to myself, I wish to myself, if only that sort of boy had been at my school disco.

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