When I was growing up, a bunch of boys lived in our neighborhood: my brothers Joe and Phillip were part of a pack that included Ricky Ray; Donny and Jimmy Loftus; Timmy Nave (who was the only bilingual one of the group because his parents were deaf and he used ASL); Billy, Joey and Paul Breen (whose fourth brother, John, was too young to join the play); and the star of N. Wilson Boulevard, Kurt Page. For a brief time, Kurt was famous, at least in Nashville and the SEC football world: in the early 1980s, he was the quarterback for Vanderbilt University (still holds the record for most yards passed). My Kurt Page scrapbook is around here somewhere. All or some combination of these boys, along with my father, often played basketball and baseball together, and some of them (not our father) played with their Johnny West and Geronimo action figures. (Remind me to tell the story of when I and my Barbie doll were invited to join the activity; it was the scene of my first feminist ou...
No time for the blues