Years ago, I borrowed a wonderful and highly recommended book from my daughter’s teacher. Ken Lavner was light years beyond a gifted mentor — brilliant, light-hearted, unbudgingly firm, strong and principled. No offense to the many towers of learning here in Santa Clarita, but one of the best things we did was to not scrimp on her education. Waldorf was a private school in that other valley. It was well worth the drive and I was heartened that we weren’t the only parents to refer to it as, “Wal-Dork …”

My daughter was, and is, a dear soul. I could fill endless stacks of yellow legal pads, listing her qualities. Deficits? They’d fill the back of a matchbook cover, writing with an extra-thick Sharpie.

Doesn’t drink enough water and needs to eat more protein. Sorry. That’s it …

Around sixth grade, she began the transition from Little Kidhood to Womankind. My very large and expensive O’Farrell cowboy hat (pictured in mugshot above, taking offers beginning at $175,000) is off to you folks in the Double XX Chromosome demographic. I don’t know how you do it. We guys enter teendom growing beards to go with hysterically funny voices that crack to castrato levels. You girls survive an ordeal going through physical body changes akin to turning into a werewolf, all the while being cute, fetching and irresistible. (Oh. Shameless plug? Speaking of werewolves and books, don’t forget to purchase your copy of the hit 5-star sequel, “Naked Came the Novelist,” at the link below. I don’t really need the extra sales, but mentioning it in a column always drives........

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