WRITING STIFF Chapter 2WRITING STIFF:
Adventures in the Literary Underbelly, A Memoir
The Creation of Adam
I met Peter Pan. This was a couple of years earlier when we were living on Old Long Ridge Road in Stamford, Connecticut. It was shortly after the show Peter Pan was broadcast on national television. I didn't just enjoy Peter Pan, I wasn't just dazzled by it, I was overwhelmed by it. Except that overwhelmed suggests being crushed under a weight and what I felt when Peter Pan went airborne in the Darling kids' bedroom and sang I'm Flying and then the kids flew, too, was weightlessness. I was flying myself. Overcome is a better word than overwhelmed to describe my state of mind, heart, and body during and after watching Peter Pan overcome in the sense of being engorged with faith, hope, and charity along with sadism, villainy, and dread.
Tights were big in Peter Pan. Peter Pan and Captain Hook both wore tights. I had an old pair of green long underwear which I used for my own tights. If I