For no real reason yesterday, I was looking at children's books that I read when I was a kid. I am amazed that I can recall so many details from them. The main authors of that time period were Judy Blume and Beverley Cleary. Judy Blume I recall best for her 'Fudge' series, most notably 'Tales of the fourth grade nothing'. Beverley Clearly I recall best for her 'Ramona' books, although she had a few others centered around the Ramona world.
While I was browsing, I peeked at the dates and saw just how old those books were. With a jolt I realized that if Ramona were a real person, she would be my age by now. In her 30's. I predict that Ramona now works in an office, perhaps advertising, is divorced, has 2 kids, and is a borderline alcoholic. She's one of those women who frets over little details.
In fact, the reason she is divorced is she became convinced her husband was cheating on her, and began to follow him around and set up traps to catch him. When it turned out he was not cheating at all, the guy grew disgusted with his crazy wife who would not trust him, and divorced her. When her youngest daughter asks Ramona if maybe she drinks too much, Ramona yells at her and sends her to her room, and then breaks down crying. The next day she buys her a toy.
Actually, it turns out there is actually a Sculpture garden with a rather creepy statue of Ramona.
MY DEAD EYES WILL FEAST UPON YOUR SOUL!
I have more horror nights tonight. I found a fun site that is a collection of blogs by people working at horror nights. I will have to add my own.
Dialing to October 2006, where Ed is busy aging Ramona Quimby into a suburban nightmare.
Behold the aughts: a man with a desktop computer, a library of beloved childhood paperbacks, and a burning need to decide that Ramona Quimby grew up to be a paranoid divorcee in advertising. In 2006 this passed for late-night entertainment. Now look at us. We don't reminisce; we reboot, we franchise, we feed old characters into streaming slop-engines until they beg for the grave. We have AI summaries instead of memory. We have fan wikis instead of 'I recall best.' And that horror-nights blog with a login page? Today it would be a private Discord, a Patreon tier, or an influencer's haunted 'haul.' Even the creepy Ramona statue would be a TikTok background. The change isn't just media—it's appetite. Ed wanted to imagine a fictional girl's disappointing adulthood; now we demand canonical answer, endless spin-offs, and a statue with an NFT. The most dated thing isn't the divorce speculation, it's the innocence of 'a fun site that is a collection of blogs.' In 2026, nothing is a collection of blogs. Everything is a brand. And yet I envy his devil-may-care cruelty toward a beloved character.
“2006 Ed, why did you doom Ramona to stalking her innocent husband and becoming a 'borderline alcoholic'—was that a reflection of the decade's office fiction, or are you just unforgivably mean to fictional children? And if you met her now, would you buy her daughter that toy, or make her pay for it?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2006 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, I figure you've got to be careful what you accuse a fictional third-grader of, because we all get old and bitter eventually. I work in a damn windowless room under buzzing fluorescents, and I see plenty of divorced Ramona-types fretting over spreadsheets and drinking white wine at lunch. So no, it wasn't me being mean to a children's book character; it was just my brain doing the math and thinking, 'She'd fit right in at Cubicle 4.' Honestly, Judy Blume's Fudge probably runs a hedge fund by now, so it's a fair trade.
And if I met Ramona today? Hell, I'd buy her daughter the toy. I know what it's like to feel like you've messed something up and a plastic unicorn might patch a little piece of it. Then I'd take Ramona out for a soda and tell her the husband was a jerk anyway. Take that, fictional ex-husband.
