The Bull Shippers Plaza Motor Inn was a real place. It stood at 320 Washington Avenue in Brooklyn, a block from Pratt Institute. My apartment was diagonally across the street.Continue reading
There have been whispers about a coming pandemic for years, but I am stunned by the rapid pace our world has changed. We are ‘sheltering in place,’ a misnomer of a phrase, as the COVID-19 virus spreads through our country. We are now in week two of our self-imposed isolation, venturing out only for food and walks. While I long to be busy again, for my partner and me, it has not been a hardship. We have food and enough savings to weather this storm. My partner can work from home while much of my daily plans outside our house, including regular visits to help support my 91-year-old mother in another state, have ceased. Mom is in her apartment alone, the refrigerator and freezer packed with food, and seems to be enjoying her quiet time after the recent passing of my father. But at 91, she is not able to easily cook for herself and is surviving on mostly premade meals or frozen soup.
I was moved this morning to read about a transgender college student on Vox.com. The student was living in a homeless shelter and using the campus gym to shower, and the school library to study is now struggling as the homeless shelter has no private space for her to take online classes or study. The article, Campus, dorms closed for coronavirus, leaving some LGBTQ students with nowhere to go, portrays how many college students are affected by their schools being closed because the schools were so much more than education. The schools provided food, medical care, safety net, behavioral therapy, and more.
Day by day, we see our world get smaller. Today our County Executive stated that we were getting very close to a ‘shelter in place order,’ requiring us to stay in our homes, except for food and other limited functions. How this would be enforced and for how long is anybody’s guess. Given the rapid spread of this virus, I expect we are in for a very long period of our world being shut down.
Today my son flys off to Europe for a college semester abroad. My wife drove him up to Kennedy Airport in New York to drop him off.
I remember as if it were yesterday the sex I had that first year of college.
This weekend I visited my son at college for his fraternity’s father’s weekend. As a gay man, I was not quite sure what to expect. Before coming I asked my son, jokingly, was I going to have to play football? A sport which I know very little about. He assured me, no football. Continue reading
Oh, the sex I could have had. I came of age in the wild and hedonistic period of gay culture, the 1970s, where disco music ruled. While I was not very active in gay culture, I would occasionally foray out. I remember one night in college, dancing shirtless at a bar at the foot of Christopher Street and the West Side Highway, packed with hot, sweaty men. It was an incredible intoxicating experience. But that night was more of an exception. Most of my life, at this time, was generally more contained and controlled. Continue reading
We met the first semester of college in 1976 and I had a crush on David all through that first year. We slept together twice and I remember fragments of that time: entering his room; how his bed was set in the cubby hole of a room; how he looked naked, the curve of his penis and what we did together.