Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.
CP: Long before I had a wallet to put it in, I had a library card. It was salmon-colored, with rounded corners and a small embossed metal tab for processing my voluminous checkouts.
RN: I don’t remember the physical details of my first library card, but I do recall that getting it made my elementary-school-aged self feel very grown up indeed. Such was the nerdaciousness of my childhood.
CP: You and me both, Poindexter.
RN: Let all the other neighborhood boys waste their summer playing kickball in the field near our house. I was parked on the screen porch, roaring through every title in Carolyn Hayward’s “Eddie” series.
CP: Henry Reed, Encyclopedia Brown, Harriet the Spy — I loved them all. No wonder I required eyeglasses with a strong prescription as a fifth-grader.
RN: You, too? I don’t have a clue regarding the whereabouts of a single diploma, but I know exactly where to find the certificate I received at age 8 from the Hennepin County Library, awarding me membership in its all-star summer reading program.
CP: I don’t like to brag, but your certificate of merit for “having read six books for pleasure during the summer” seems awfully generous. At that age, I was heading home with six books per week.
RN: Thanks for reminding me of yet another awkward late-bloomer moment.