October 5, 1968
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Dear Anthony,
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Well, I've been in college about a month now, and in some ways it's very different, and in some ways it's still much the same. The hardest adjustment has been living with Mother again, but at least it's different than before I left for Montague. Now when she gets on my nerves, I can just drive over to the campus, as long as it's not too late. There's definitely a "generation gap" between us, but she's the free spirit and I'm the responsible one. (Though with a secret rebellious side of course.)
As for college itself, the courses are tougher than high school. Also, even at Montague, I was used to being the best and the brightest, but now I'm among other girls who were top at their schools. I know I can do the work, but I doubt I'll be valedictorian for the Vassar Class of '72.
How does it feel for you to be out of high school? What are you doing now that you're legally an adult? I wish I had a way of finding out, just for curiosity's sake. Yes, I have a vivid imagination, but it'd be good to know the truth.
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Curiously,
Angela
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P.S. I still love the Beatles, even though they're no longer the clean-cut young men they used to be. My favorite song these days is "Hey Jude." It's not only a lovely song, but it's so long that I sometimes time my homework against it.
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January 20, 1969
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Dear Anthony,
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Well, we have a new president now. Hopefully, Mr. Nixon will bring this country back together. My new roommate Trish Baldwin prefers to date Republicans, because she thinks they have more money (unless they're the Kennedy type of course).
Yes, I have a roommate on campus. I got tired of living with my beautiful, popular mother and now I live with a beautiful, popular acquaintance. She's always the life of the party. And she was crowned Queen of the Winter Carnival. Her escort was Robert Andrew Holmby III, a football star with great shoulders, and a lot of other great features. And she didn't even appreciate him. She rates her boyfriends on the gum scale: how fast she can chew them up and spit them out. (Tommy Williams was a Chicklet!)
Meanwhile, I'm one of the girls who never has a Saturday night date. For fun and excitement, I eat fudge and sing along with the radio. Trish calls me a "cute little butterball."
She doesn't do much for my confidence obviously, although I don't think she means to be cruel. She just doesn't realize the effect she has on me. I miss Jane Barth, who was sweet and supportive, and almost as fat as I was. But Jane went to Berkeley and became a radical and I never see her anymore.
Do you have a roommate if you're going to college? I bet you live at home and still share a room with your older brother and maybe your oldest younger brother. I think I named them Luigi and Mario when I was daydreaming about your family one day. Luigi is 20 or 21 now and he's engaged to a nice old-fashioned girl who's a great cook. (Your oldest sister, um, Nina, just got married at 19.) Mario looks like you but he's two years younger. He's the one I saw at the movies.
I know, it's silly to have imagined a whole life for you, but I find it comforting, especially these days, to think of your close-knit old-fashioned family. Yes, with all that yummy Italian cooking.
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Happy Inauguration Day,
Angela
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February 15, 1969
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Dear Ingrid,
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I hope you had a better Valentine's Day than I did. No, my problem wasn't due to romantic differences, but to artistic differences. (I'm too much of a gentleman to tell you how far I've gone, but I'll just say that it's more than Father Marconi approves of and less than my buddies think.)
I've actually got different sets of friends. Well, I get along with almost everyone (except for Mickey Callahan and a couple other guys). But I've got the buddies I hang out with—Bobby, Philly, Tiny, Peewee, and Dennis mostly. Then I've got the ones I play ball with, guys who hope to turn pro like I do. And there are of course my girlfriends, although not all of them are exactly friends. I mean, we don't have much to talk about, but we have fun.
And then there are the guys I've formed a singing group with. We're not technically a band, since none of us play instruments. It's all a capella, doo-wop in fact. It's me, Satch, Benny, Jimbo, and D.J.
Francesca Candino says it's too soon for '50s nostalgia, but we don't care. She's still got a smart mouth and likes to argue, but I will admit she's grown up to be gorgeous. She's the one girl who'll never go out with me. I thought at first it was that her dad is really over-protective (even by Brooklyn Italian standards), but she told me it's because I'm too full of myself and practically a juvenile delinquent, which you know ain't true, either of those.
Anyway, I love being in the group. I love getting up onstage and making people happy, getting all that positive reaction, especially from the girls. I'll admit I've got fantasies of performing and then having groupies tear my clothes off. Or maybe throwing underwear at me.
I was at a Sinatra concert recently, and this stacked redhead, probably in her late 30s, threw a huge red bra at him! My date, Tanya Stromball, thought the lady was too old to be doing that, but I admired her spirit. Tanya, as I confirmed later, wasn't wearing a bra to throw. And, yes, it was worth working extra hours for the Rossinis' to earn the money for those tickets.
I know, it sounds like my life is going good, with Frankie S. making up for Frankie C. And it was, till the Dream-Tones had a falling out. We were supposed to perform at the Valentine's Dance last night, but we had a serious argument. We've got these great green jackets that Benny's uncle the tailor got us a good deal on. But they think the sleeves should be pushed up and I know they're dead wrong.
Maybe we'll make up. Pop says that the majority rules and I should give in, but I'll admit I'm sort of stubborn. This girl, Darlene, who's as close as Pitkin Avenue gets to being a flower child, did my star chart and she says I'm Taurus the Bull. I almost said that astrology is bull, but then she ended up asking to see the tattoo I got recently, and we dropped the subject.
That was one reason I didn't want my sleeves pushed up. I got Robert Crumb's "Keep on Truckin' " on my upper right arm, and it probably wouldn't show, but I didn't want to take that chance. I got tattooed on a dare from my buddies, the Philly Fingers gang I mean. The tattooist didn't care that I'm not even 17 yet, since I had the cash. Another thing my "fish money" went towards.
Wow, I think this is the most I've written to you in a long time! Maybe I'll go back to writing quarterly or seasonally or whatever it was when I was 11. I always feel like not much is going on in my life, especially things you'd be interested in. And if we really were pen-pals, I probably wouldn't tell you about the girls in my life, which would make this letter shorter. But this was fun. So...
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That's all till Springtime,
Tony
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P.S. Maybe the group is a democracy, but it is called Tony and the Dream-Tones, so I should have more say, right? I mean, that makes me the boss, huh?