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Sunday, June 27, 2004

See You, Dad...


Hello from L.A. Just arrived after a circuitous ride from LAX with a clueless and ill-tempered driver who has yet to master rudimentary English. : - ) I am writing this on the TV in my room, the only internet access offered here. I enjoy the novelty though it is cumbersome. This is to interet access what an attic is to a penthouse. My analogy du jour.
See you, Dad, refers to the trendy Latin restaurant where I'm dining with Brian in three hours, Ciudad.

Happy Pride Day, my NY friends. Sorry I can't be there with you. Were it not for this business necessity, I would have actually marched, with either Sundance, my gay outdoors club, or with Vassar's gay/lesbian/etc alumni/ae.

Pride Day 1979 marked my gay coming of age. During the parade I had my first passionate kiss with another man, Michael from the gay youth group I'd just joined.
He sought me out, saying he didn't want to let someone that sweet and cute get away. ; - ) In his eyes I guess I was, and he made me feel a rush of giddy adrenaline-pumping joy and love. He came back to Long Island with me that night, my family was away, and that was my beautiful first true adult sexual experience. For that whole summer, Michael became my pal, only with sex. Though only 17 to my tender 19, Michael knew the ropes, and he taught them to me. We later lost touch. I've never been able to find him, despite a few tries. He was last seen in Florida. I wonder if he's alive... I wish I could thank him and hug him. These are my thoughts as I mark a quarter-century as a practicing homosexual : - ) Practice makes perfect. : - )

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