Meeting My First Feminist

I was at summer camp, I was ten. This was during the three-month period between fourth and fifth grade. It was 1985.

And this was the first time I recall running-across a feminist.

I remember summer camp somewhat well, there was a really big raspberry bush behind my cabin. I would occasionally go pick a bunch of berries and gorge myself. And, as is typical of raspberries, the seeds would get lodged between my teeth.

On this day in particular, what was I thinking about at the time? Probably Transformers.

Yes, that was undoubtedly one of the best toy series of the 1980s. I was really into the Transformers in those days. As was most people my age.

They were always more than meets the eye, after all.

The Transformers were cars and planes that changed into fighting robots. Hence: the name 'Transformers'.

Because they transformed, you see. Oh yes.

Autobots waged their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons.

And the Deceptions-- they were evil. I owned Starscream. In fact, my favorite was Starscream. He was an airplane that turned-into a robot.

Starscream, the betrayer. The turncoat. The total bastard without redeeming features.

(For those of you who were unfamiliar with the toy series, Starscream was the worst of the worst! Even among the Decepticons, he was evil. Of that you can be certain!)

Boy, was he evil!

And the actor who did the voice of Starscream (Chris Latta) he died of a drug overdose in 1994.

Sad, that was. He had the best voice for evil cartoon characters.

And by sheer coincidence he had the voice of Cobra Commander, too. An evil character in a totally different cartoon series!

That's how evil his was! All shrill and hissy and scoundrel-like.

Anyway, I digress. It was blazingly hot that day. Sun was beating-down upon us, burning-off the mist. And I remember walking-up to a standpipe where I knew a water-fountain was attached. I'd been playing dodgeball that day and I needed a drink.

I approached and noticed that there were two girls standing there, talking. One of them was named Loralei.

I remember Loralei well. Her last name was one of those scary-looking Austro-Hungarian appellations with lots of z's in it.

Loralei Zumzeigetwastizewicz. Or something like that. God only knows!

Loralei and her companion were busily jittering-away. My mouth was parched, and she was leaning in such a way that she was obstructing the drinking fountain.

"Um, can I use the fountain?" I asked. She looked at me and sneered.

"Oh, look. It's one of them!" She snarled. Her voice dripped with a distinct form of non-niceness.

"What?" I asked.

"I heard you on the soccer field! You were talking all kinds of sexist shit with the those other guys, weren't you?"

I genuinely had no clue what she was talking about. 'Those other guys?' I'd just come from playing dodgeball by the lake. I hadn't been on the soccer field all day.

"What?" I scratched my head. "I wasn't on the soccer field." And I vainly tried to change the subject. "I hope we have s'mores tonight, don't you?"

"Yeah, right." She harrumphed, undistracted from her nascent bout of anti-male ranting. "You were with the group of guys who were saying that girls were dumb!" She glowered.

Okay, it was obviously a case of mistaken identity. I shook my head.

"What? Dumb? No, it wasn't me!"

"Oh, come on!" She persisted. "Why the hell are you guys so sexist?!" She demanded. I was flabbergasted.

Why was she accusing me of saying things I'd never said?

"No, I don't think it was me!" I folded my arms. "I think men and women are equal." I said proudly. That's what my parents had always taught me, after all. That seemed about right.

Her lip curled-up, as if I were a foul odor.

"Uh huh. Riiiight."

She turned-around and placed her thumb on the drinking fountain's nozzle. She twisted the handle, and a thin stream of water shot-out. It sprayed me square in the face.

I jerked-back, stunned.

What the hell?

She and her friend both ran-off towards the cabins, giggling. I stood there dripping-wet.

In the distance, I thought I heard one of them laugh: 'Girls rule!'

What. The. Hell?

I stood there, wiping the water from my face. I stepped-up and started to drink.

One thought echoed through my mind over and over as I drank. "What the hell is wrong with them?"

Indeed! That question hasn't changed since, either. Almost word for word.

What the hell is wrong with them?

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"Now, man and woman are equal.
If that's true, then isn't it odd-
that diamonds are a girl's best friend,
but a man's best friend is his dog!" -- Benny Hill

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