the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Portrait of a Blogger as a Young Man


I promised my mother that I would throw out some things that have been in my closet for years, but it is impossible.  How can I choose what to toss?   Who knows? — one day I might be called on to perform some brain surgery on a sick neighbor and I’ll need to practice on that old Operation! game board.  It was fun going through old school reports and yearbooks.  I found personal papers and writings that I haven’t seen in years. 

These two writing pieces made me chuckle.  I would have been a terrific grade school blogger!

Me!  by Neil Kramer
(This is part of a journal written in elementary school.  There were photos attached, but were missing.)

It was a nice but cold day on March 7th.  Then at 2:38 AM, a spectacular thing happened.  I WAS BORN.  This is me, Neil Scott Kramer, at four months old.  The hands holding me belong to my baba (as I used to call my mother at four months old).  Birth notices were sent out to relatives and friends about ME, like the one above.  I took this photo of my mother and father.  I take many pictures.  That’s only one of my hobbies.  Others I have are coins, stamps, comics, and magazine collections.  Astrology — I like it!  I am a Pisces.  My mother is a Libra.  My father is a Gemini.  I LOVE TV!

Here is picture of ME in school.  Look at the 4th Row, 3rd Person from the left in Mrs. Mattis’s class in P.S. 154, in Flushing, in Queens, in NYC, in NY, in the USA, in North America, in this world, EARTH.

An interesting fact about me! – 18 1/2 million call the New York/New Jersey area their home.  And without me, it would be ONE LESS!

Clearly, my literary brilliance came through at an early age.  Unfortunately, once I became a Freshman in college, my writing turned pretentious and filled with sexual cliches, much as it still is today.

Sue by Neil Kramer
(a story written in a Freshman “Creative Writing” Class at Columbia)

I’m sitting on the top of the balustrade that separates Central Park from the adjacent sidewalk that I face, waiting, hoping that Sue will pass.  Although she is nowhere in sight, many other lovely girls pass me by, and since today is a hot July day, which prompts these beauties to sail right in front of my eyes in various stages of semi-undress, the sporadic wafts of warm, summer air gently fluttering the fashionable, soft, cotton fabric of the females blouses into a massage of their protruding breasts, the wait is not unpleasant.

A young couple exits the movie theater across the street.  The female (25, perhaps?) wears the tight green shorts that Boy Scouts usually wear.  I wonder what effect the movie had on this couple.  I know that the film is about a love affair between two Resistance members, and the war’s toll on their lives.  Max Horkheimer, the Marxist intellectual of the Frankfurt School of Philosophy, said that art is the only proletariat spirit left in my generation’s lifetime.  Great art should make the persons appreciating art to strive to reach this ideal, that of making the world a better place to live.

“Do you think this has happened to that couple?”  I ask myself.

I laugh. 

WTF?  Max Horkheimer, who the hell was he?  And who is Sue?  There are several more pages of this short story/political manifesto, but you couldn’t pay me enough to publish the rest. 

Now, continue on with your repressive, advertiser-driven blogs, you fools, those of you who bow before the false idols of capitalism and Technorati, while I, a modern-day Max Horkheimer, lead on with my blog revolution!

I laugh.


  1. OMSH

    It is obvious you’ll be putting up ads soon.

    Be safe.
    And throw some of that crap out…no, really. Clutter clutters the mind.

    That’s my manifesto.

  2. LVGurl

    I wish I had all sorts of witty things to say, but I can’t, because the tears in my eyes don’t allow me to see. This is the funniest shizz I’ve read in a long time.

    That, and the fact that you were born a four-month-old baby. Your poor mother…

  3. teahouseblossom

    Ha! I can see that your creative talents were clear from a very young age!

    I’m also having trouble getting rid of the clutter.’s so hard to cut the cord when it comes to the stuff.

  4. buzzgirl

    Oh. My. God.

    That was awesome. I’m not sure which I liked better: narcissistic grade school Neil or pretentious college asshole Neil. I think I love them both equally.

  5. lizardek

    Har! Your talent was obviously PRODIGIOUS.

  6. Greg

    You were an excellent writer in 5th grade. Then you kind of lost it. And then it call came back. See? Full circle.

  7. Caron

    I like how the color coding adds to the tone and energy of the story of Neil. Nice penmanship.

  8. Kathy

    I love that your journal entry was simply titled ME!

  9. V-Grrrl

    The freshman writing is truly insufferable. You’ve come a long way, baby.

    My 10-year-old daughter writes all the time. Poems, notes, lists, stories. She copies her favorite quotes into notebooks. She reads constantly. My son finds writing a form of punishment.

  10. Finn

    I love ME! The other one is crap.

  11. Rachelskirts

    If I ever manage to get the cardboard box that is sitting in the middle of my room to take me back in time, I am so introducing Grade School Neil to blogging.

    Also, I am the exact same way when it comes to hoarding stuff. One day, I will need to produce a copy of every report card from kindergarten through eighth grade in order to win a million dollars and take the crown as Queen of Americaland. In my first royal speech, I will tell my mother, “HA. I told you I needed that stuff.”

  12. cruisin-mom

    Neil, what does your penis have to say about these two particular writings?

  13. wendy

    I am only surprised to find that the first one did not mention breasts…I bet you wanted to..even in 5th grade..but were a bit too timid!

    Huh, I thought you were an “ass” man…
    Maybe this came as you matured..

    You have matured..right?

    I love the line…In this World, EARTH!

    rather brilliant, really!

  14. Not Fainthearted

    Everything was fine UNTIL:
    “…the sporadic wafts of warm, summer air gently fluttering the fashionable, soft, cotton fabric of the females blouses into a massage of their protruding breasts…”

    And now I have to clean egg nog off my screen. Thanks a lot, Neil!

  15. Neil

    Just in case you care —

  16. kapgar

    It very clearly came through at a young age! So what the hell happened? 😉

  17. Alice

    oh i LOVE the journal entry! my parents tell me i spent the first 20-odd years of my life assuming the world revolved around me. seems we might have had that in common. 🙂

  18. tiff

    pretentious freshman Neil gets my vote. I would have LOVED to talk with you back in the day.

    Or…now. Thanks for sharing!

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