Chobsky, Stephen The Perks of Being a Wallflower

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Then, they put the rat or mouse back on xsdc original side,
and this time, they put electricity all through the floor where the
rat or mouse would have to walk to get the piece of food.
They did this for a while, and the rat or mouse stopped going to
get the food at a certain amount of voltage. Then, they repeated
the experiment, but they replaced the food with something that
gave the rat or mouse intense pleasure. I don't know what it was
that gave them intense pleasure, but I am guessing it is some
kind of rat or mouse nip. Anyway, what the scientists found
out was that the rat or mouse would put up with a lot more
voltage for the pleasure. Even more than for the food.
I don't know the significance of this, but I find it very
interesting.
Love always,
Charlie
November 15, 1991 Dear friend,
It's starting to get cold and frosty here. The pretty fall
weather is pretty much gone. The good news is that we have
holidays coming up, which I love especially now because my
brother will be coming home soon. Maybe even for
Thanksgiving! At least I hope he does for my mom.
My brother hasn't called home in a few weeks now, and
Mom just keeps talking about his grades and sleeping habits
and the foods he eats, and my dad keeps saying the same thing.
"He's not going to get injured."
Personally, I like to think my brother is having a college
experience like they do in the movies. I don't mean the big
fraternity party kind of movie. More like the movie where the
guy meets a smart girl who wears a lot of sweaters and drinks
cocoa. They talk about books and issues and kiss in the rain.
I think something like that would be very good for him,
especially if the girl were unconventionally beautiful. They
are the best kind of girls, I think. I personally find "super
models" strange. I don't know why this is.
My brother, on the other hand, has posters of "super
models" and cars and beer and things like that on the walls in
his room. I suppose if you add a dirty floor, it's probably what
his dorm room looks like. My brother always hated making
his bed, but he kept his clothes closet very organized. Go
figure.
The thing is, when my brother does call home, he doesn't
say a lot. He talks about his classes a little bit, but mostly he
talks about the football team. There is a lot of attention on the
team because they are very good, and they have some really big
players. My brother said that one of the guys will probably be
a millionaire someday, but that he is "dumb as a post." I guess
that's pretty dumb.
My brother told this one story where the whole team was
sitting around the locker room, talking about all the stuff they
had to do to get into college football. They finally got around
to talking about SAT scores, which I have never taken.
And this guy said, "I got a 710."
And my brother said, "Math or verbal?"
And the guy said, "Huh?"
And the whole team laughed.
I always wanted to be on a sports team like that. I'm not
exactly sure why, but I always thought it would be fun to have
"glory days." Then, I would have stories to tell my children and
golf buddies. I guess I could tell people about Punk Rocky and
walking home from school and things like that. Maybe these
are my glory days, and I'm not even realizing it because they
don't involve a ball.
I used to play sports when I was little, and I was actually
very good, but the problem was that it used to make me too
aggressive, so the doctors told my mom I would have to stop.
My dad had glory days once. I've seen pictures of him
when he was young. He was a very handsome man. I don't
know any other way to put it. He looked like all old pictures
look. Old pictures look very rugged and young, and the people
in the photographs always seem a lot happier than you are.
My mother looks beautiful in old pictures. She actually
looks more beautiful than anyone except maybe Sam.
Sometimes, I look at my parents now and wonder what
happened to make them the way they are. And then I wonder
what will happen to my sister when her boyfriend graduates
from law school. And what my brother's face will look like on
a football card, or what it will look like if it is never on a
football card. My dad played college baseball for two years,
but he had to stop when Mom got pregnant with my brother.
That's when he started working at the office. I honestly don't
know what my dad does.
He tells a story sometimes. It is a great story. It has to
do with the state championship for baseball when he was in
high school. It was the bottom of the ninth inning, and there
was a runner on first. There were two outs, and my dad's team
was behind by one run. My dad was younger than most of the
varsity team because he was only a sophomore, and I think the
team thought he was going to blow the game. He had all this
pressure on him. He was really nervous. And really scared.
But after a few pitches, he said he started feeling "in the zone."
When the pitcher wound up and threw the next ball, he knew
exactly where that ball was going to be. He hit it harder than
any other ball he ever hit in his whole life. And he made a
home run, and his team won the state championship. The
greatest thing about this story is that every time my dad tells it,
it never changes. He's not one to exaggerate.
I think about all this sometimes when I'm watching a
football game with Patrick and Sam. I look at the field, and I
think about the boy who just made the touchdown. I think that
these are the glory days for that boy, and this moment will just
be another story someday because all the people who make
touchdowns and home runs will become somebody's dad. And
when his children look at his yearbook photograph, they will
think that their dad was rugged and handsome and looked a lot
happier than they are.
I just hope I remember to tell my kids that they are as
happy as I look in my old photographs. And I hope that they
believe me.
Love always,
Charlie
November 18, 1991 Dear friend,
My brother finally called yesterday, and he can't make it
home for any part of Thanksgiving weekend because he is
behind on school because of football. My mom was so upset
that she took me shopping for new clothes.
I know you think what I'm about to write is an
exaggeration, but I promise you that it isn't. From the time we
got into the car to the time we came home, my mom literally
did not stop talking. Not once. Not even when I was in the
dressing room trying on "slacks."
She just stood outside the dressing room and worried out
loud. The things she said went all over the place. First, it was
that my dad should've insisted that my brother come home if
only for an afternoon. Then, it was that my sister had better
start thinking more about her future and start applying to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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