So who will the wrinkled redhead bring to bed — assuming he hasn’t already?
As a fourth-grade student at Midwood, Brooklyn’s P.S. 238, I struggled with my carrot-top best friend, another Jeffrey, over who was Archie and who Reggie. (Jeffrey and I also shared the same weird middle name!) But as any constant Out There reader can anticipate, although I studied those comics hard to see which of the two I wanted to be, I was much more “interested” in the other light-dark pair, sunny blonde Betty and well-born brunette Veronica.
In those dim times, little boys as well as big divided the world of girls (white girls, natch) into blondes, brunettes, and redheads. When we stuffed the corner-grocery cardboard ballot box with our choice for New York’s own Miss Rheingold, most of the votes were really for Kodacolor hair.
Miss Rheingold, by the way, was a big deal. In 1959, total votes were over 22 million; only the presidential election drew more. Pre-Birds Tippi Hedren, Hope Lange
and even Grace Kelly were sometime candidates. (Grace Kelly was rejected for being “too thin.”)
Anyway, all the boys divided our little-girl friends into Bettys and Veronicas. (Where is Debby Kinsbrunner now? She and I once had a date our mothers took us to, at the local NBC studio to be audience for the hot new quiz show, Hugh Downs’ Concentration. Debby was a definite Betty.)
All these years later, we finally know on whose hand Archie will place that ring. Any guesses? (Careful, spoiler follows.)
And not Veronica’s!
Yes, turns out that I am Jughead, and Jughead, Archie’s betrothed, is happier than he ever thought possible.
Reggie is furious, as I always hoped he would be.
For an automatic alert when there is a new Out There post, email