The year is 1945. We lived at 202 E. Hazard St., Summit Hill: At age 6, I quietly picked up our home phone and listened to the party-line conversation between my teenage neighbor and her boyfriend.
When she made some gooey, sappy and lovesick comment to him, I couldn't help myself and stifled a laugh.
"Bruce, GET OFF THE PHONE!!!" she ordered. "Yeah, you little creep," the boyfriend chimed in, "Get off the phone."
I did. Obviously, this was not the first time I had listened in. In retrospect, I believe this was my introduction into sex education.