Steve Kluger has written extensively on subjects as far-ranging as World War II, rock ‘n’ roll, and the Titanic, and as close to the heart as baseball and the Boston Red Sox. He lives in Santa Monica, California.

Almost Like Being in Love

By Kluger, Steve

Perennial

ISBN: 0060595833

Chapter One

Travis and Craig

The Beckley Bugle

McKENNA EARNS VICTORY CUP

All-star quarterback and shortstop Craig McKenna has beenawarded Beckley’s Victory Cup as the year’s most outstanding athlete, in the first unanimous vote since the Cup was instituted in 1943. Leading the Black-and-Grey to a 10?0 gridiron record inthe fall, and with an unassailable eleven-game hitting streak in the spring, McKenna will be presented with the Cup at commencement exercises next month — a fitting farewell as he departs for Harvard and law school in September. Way to go, Craigo!

FIRST SENIOR PROJECTS TURNED IN

Three weeks ahead of the curve, Travis Puckett is the first tosubmit his completed Senior Project to Mr. Naylor and the English Department. Puckett — this year’s Sheet Monitor in thedorm’s laundry room — has titled his thesis, “Put the Blame on Mame.” In it, he examines the purported ties between PatrickDennis’ fictional aunt and the Marxist-Leninist dogma of the late1940s. “Auntie Mame was a despot,” he insists. “The House Un-American Activities Committee would have had her shot onsight.” If you say so, Trav.

STAGEHANDS NEEDED FOR BRIGADOON

This year’s spring play, produced by Beckley’s boys and MaryImmaculate’s girls, will be Lerner & Loewe’s timeless and everpopular classic, Brigadoon. Under the capable direction of art teacher Pauline Hawkins, the musical will run for three performances during the weekend before commencement. Though the leads have already been cast (sorry, guys), Mrs. Hawkins advises this reporter that “we still need a stage crew.” Those willing to volunteer should do so immediately. All others will be drafted.

Craig McKenna — BECKLEY SCHOOL
Room 311 — TARRYTOWN, NEW YORK

5/5/78

English Assignment
My Obituary
by Craig McKenna

(Note to Mr. Naylor: I’m pretending it’s being written forthe Village Voice, so there may be some profane words init. But not alot.)

A legend has left us — buried beneath the epitaph helong ago chose for himself: CRAIG McKENNA,LAID AT 15. And who among us can forget the manythings he was?

A world-famous Jets quarterback who threw a 98-yardpass during sudden death in Super Bowl XVI. Namathshit a brick.

A world-famous Red Sox slugger who single-handedlybrought the World Series title back to Boston for thefirst time since 1918.

A world-famous rock and roller who packed the Gardenwith his bass guitar, his T-shirt off, his jeans waytight, and sweat pouring off the body that made themall horny.They called it McKennaMania.

A world-famous attorney who wasn’t afraid to go afterpain-in-the-ass defendants like U.S. Steel, the Mafia,and France.

And finally a world-famous gigolo who left a string ofbroken-hearted heiresses strewn across four continents.

He will be missed.

Yeah, right. The one time I accidentally said “hell” in frontof Naylor, he threw up on Othello.

The way I’ve got it figured, there’s three ways I can pullthis off — and one’s only a maybe.

1. Bite the bullet, see if it flies, and hope that Harvard’snot allowed to take back an admissions certificate evenif I flunk English at zero hour.
2. Sweet-talk Kerry Fusaro, Tom Lee, or Mike Scheragointo making changes, but don’t hold your breath.Everybody knows that jocks can’t handle words withmore than one syllable in them. Except me.
3. (This one’s the maybe.) Ask Travis Puckett, the HelloDolly guy. Even with the blue Van Heusen shirts he’ssmart, teachers like him, and he was the only one of uswho volunteered for Brigadoon without getting threatened first. Come to think of it, he also hasn’t said WordOne to me in four years, even when we pass each otherin the hall. Maybe I called him something slimy in ninthgrade back in the days when I was still an asshole. Ormaybe he just doesn’t like me. (How is that possible?)

   Stick with Number 2. You’re better off with a buddy whocan’t spell than an enemy who can.

   Continues…
   Excerpted from Almost Like Being in Loveby Kluger, Steve Excerpted by permission.
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