I'll go you one better: A "poor white trash" family lived directly across the street from us deep in the heart of the ghetto. "Jimmy" was my best friend, same age, baseball, basketball, kickball, soccer buddy. You get the picture.

As kids, Jimmy would sleep over at our house, and I at his.

Then one day, I went across the street to get Jimmy to go play ball. His Mom meet me at the closed screen door, told me to go away and not come back.

I was 12 years old. Ran to my Mom and told her what happened. "Wait till your father gets home, she said. He'll tell you.

See, Jimmy had two sisters, one 14, another 13...and we were all hitting puberty at about the same time.

Get the picture.

Jimmy, thereafter, pretend that he didn't know me.