January 12, 1965
V spoke to me again! I'm up in the air! I think he likes me. I hope so. I should go to a dance he goes to and see if he asks me to dance.
I went to Wykeham Rise this afternoon and - oops, i just realized today is the 12th, not the 14th. Well, for January 14, it's under the 12th! Hoo Boy! It's 10:30 now. I hope I have a good dream with a happy ending - and a true one - about the Beatles or V!!
I LIKE HIM!!
January 12, 1965
Hoo Boy, indeed.
And where did that expression come from, you might ask. A sharp-eyed (and well-read) reader would probably pick up on this and the many other Pogo-isms that are scattered through this diary. Before my own children learned to carry on entire conversations with dialog from the Simpsons, LA Story and Family Guy, my family spoke in fluent Pogo-ese. Actually, my dad, brother and I did; Mom, I guess, was not a fan.
So, Hoo boy! Hot Dawg! Hoo Haw! But don't fawn over it.
January 12, 2023
And the ever relevant “We have met the enemy and he is us.”
My first solo date with my husband involved sneaking up to his dorm room to listen to his new Ravi Shankar record. As he explained ragas to me, I glanced around the room and noticed that he owned all the Pogo books that I did not have. The rest, as they say, is history.