Seventeen or So

Eric and David around seven or eight years old.

On this fine June 1st 2007 Eric and I celebrate seventeen years of living together. Oddly, it took us a long time to settle on a date for our anniversary. The big problem was what to use as a starting point.

Eric and I met on July 15, 1983. It was at an Oz convention being held at the Wawona Hotel in Yosemite National Park. Eric was nineteen and I was twenty. We hung out together some, and with hindsight I must admit I was sorta smitten, but we really didn't become friends. Thus the day we met isn't a good day for our anniversary.

We didn't see each other again for two years. Our paths next crossed at another Oz convention in 1985 - this one in Zion, Illinois. Now, by this time I had just discovered I was gay, but I was still a virgin. Eric was flirting with his bisexuality (oy!) and we hit it off much better. I was very tan and I had a bright yellow shirt that caught Eric's eye.

David and Eric Meet again in June, 1986 in Zion, Illionois

Eric and I (and our friend Alice) stayed up all Saturday night after a party at this 1985 Oz Con; and we watched the sun come up and then went into the hotel and had pancakes. Eric invited me to come visit him in Dover, New Jersey. Yes!

Well I went to visit him six months later at New Years 1985-1986. And sometime around midnight on January 1st we ended up in bed together. But we were basically just frinds at this point - and it's unclear whether we consummated the friendship on January 1st or January 2nd since we started in a bit before midnight and finished sometime after midnight. So these "dates" aren't so hot for an anniversary either!

Well, after about a year and a half of "friendship-plus" Eric and I decided to try having a "relationship." This was sometime in March of 1988. No exact date is recalled; and by this time I had moved east and was going to NYU and Eric had moved from New Jersey to San Diego. Thus with 3000 miles between us we labeled ourselves "in a relationship" and introduced each other to our respective families. But this all happened kind of gradually over a couple months and there is no specific date to choose for an anniversary.

When I was about to graduate from NYU it was time to move in together. The phone bill was getting enormous! So since I wanted to get my Masters degree and had been accepted at Yale University, I convinced Eric to move from sunny San Diego to the arm-pit of America - New Haven, Connecticut. And thus we arrived in New Haven, and found a wonderful apartment, and we moved in together, spending our first night together in our own place, on June 1st, 1990!

Summer 1990 - At Another "Oz" Convention in Asilomar, California

In front of our house on Humphrey Street in New Haven, Connecticut 1991

The "Happy Husbands"

Blog Copyright © 2007 D. H. Maxine
Photos Copyright © 2007 D. H. Maxine and Eric Shanower

How high the moon

On the evening of July 20, 1969 my family was out in the backyard of our house in Albuquerque. We were gazing back and forth between our black-and-white television (which my dad had brought outside!) and the moon up in the sky. Neil Armstrong was walking around up there. It seemed so incredible! I was six.

A month before the moon landing Judy Garland had died. My mom had come into my room to tell me. I only knew of Judy Garland as "Dorothy" from THE WIZARD OF OZ at that point, and I wondered if we could still watch the movie on television if she was dead. I was assured we still could. A couple days later the Stonewall Riots took place an event that had a certain effect on my life since it was the birth of the Gay rights movement.

The world was so full of promise! Everyone wanted and expected equality! Blacks, Women, Native Americans, Gay people! My parents were sure equality for all (and socialized medicine!) were right around the corner. Hah!

I was sure that one day I would go to the moon, too. I didn't much imagine I would go as an Astronaut because my parents were anti-military and most of the astronauts came out of the Air Force back then. But I DID think I could probably go to some space hotel or visit the moon colony as a tourist by the time I was grown up.

It seemed SO certain! This was the era of LOST IN SPACE and STAR TREK! There was such a steady build up of moving humanity into space! One month it's men on the moon! Then it's a dune-buggy on the moon! Then Skylab! I drank Tang. I ate Space Sticks! I made toy space ship models. I wanted to build a full-size lunar lander in the backyard!



Then it happened. Or rather, "nothing" happened! The space race fizzled into nothing but a boring, old, problem-laden, Space Shuttle that looked like a normal airplane on steroids. The space race was over, they quit making Space Sticks, and little David will never get to the moon.

David

When you talk about this blog later, and you will - be kind.

Dancing Naked with PUFNSTUF

In 1971, when I was eight years old, I was taken to see the then new PUFNSTUF movie. I already loved the psychedelic television show of the same name. But the movie appealed to me for many reasons. I wanted to escape, I thought Jack Wild was cute, it was a movie musical that resonated of many things I loved including a similarity to the plot of THE WIZARD OF OZ. I adored Jack Wild's peculiar British accent, and now as an adult, I can see other reasons that the film spoke to me.

For those of you too young, too old, or too foreign to know the film, the story goes thusly:

A boy named Jimmy is picked on by his classmates and teachers. Jimmy plays the flute and one day his flute comes to life and starts to talk. A nasty old witch named Witchiepoo wants Jimmy's talking flute for herself and she tricks Jimmy into boarding a beautiful boat which traps him and brings him to Living Island. Jimmy escapes the witch's clutches and befriends a yellow dragon named Pufnstuf who wore little white cowboy boots and a Stetson. Jimmy wants to get back home, protect his flute from Witchiepoo, and in the end finds peace and love with his friends on Living Island.

There's an interesting Freudian interpretation of the film that I've heard about. Our boy hero Jimmy is about to enter puberty and his "flute" which had been inanimate suddenly comes to life. Witchiepoo (the mother figure) wants to take away Jimmy's "magic flute." For protection, Jimmy seeks out an even bigger phallic symbol, Pufnstuf himself. I wonder what PUFNSTUF creators Sid and Marty Krofft think of this interpretation. Pufnstuf himself does look pretty phallic. Look at his "head" in the photo at the top of this blog.

Okay, back to being eight years old... Well, I loved the movie and I loved my copy of the soundtrack album. I played it to pieces, played it for my friends, and being a little gay boy I had as big a fascination with Witchiepoo as I did with Jimmy.


Soundtrack album cover for PUFNSTUF (1970)

In the movie Witchiepoo hosts the Annual Witch's Convention in her castle. Witches are quite "political" it seems; and there is a power struggle to obtain the title of "Boss Witch." The current Boss Witch was played by Martha Raye; and other contenders for the title included Witchiepoo, and another witch named Witch Hazel who was played by Mama Cass Elliot. Witch Hazel sang a song called "Different."

"When I was smaller and people were taller
I realized that I was different.

It's kind of an ode to being gay (from a little gay kid's point of view anyway). It's not unlike Cass Elliot's big hit "Make your own kind of music." On the soundtrack album, this song is followed by a spectacular production number called "Zap the World!" which is what the witches want to do. I lapped it all up!

My best friend at the time lived next door. One summer afternoon while we were playing my PUFNSTUF album we decided to make "magic wands." In the movie the magic wands look kind of like striped pencils. And indeed that's what we made. We took some unsharpened pencils and carefully wound them with colored tape making spirals about the pencils. We also made them "magic" by putting spells on them and saying magic words and stuff. At some point my best friend said, "You know if we want to make them really magic, we're supposed to be naked."

"What are we supposed to do then?" I asked in my best naïvely coy eight-year-old manner.

My friend said, "We have to dance with them."

It sounded like a good idea to me! So we locked my bedroom door. We put on the PUFNSTUF album, and played "Different" as an invocation while we got undressed. When we were both naked we stood on my twin bed and waited for "Zap the World!" to begin. At which point the eight-year-old, wand-waving, naked, wannabe-witches began dancing excitedly, jumping up and down on the bed!

So what do you do when the music stops?

Well, you put on your clothes, you put the magic away, and you grow-up. You try to make friends with other people, hoping for a friendship like Jimmy's and Pufntuf's. And you long to find a Living Island where you attempt to avoid the witches, where you can play your magic-flute, and when the planet gets too obnoxious, you can …
Zap! Zap the World!

David

Blog copyright © 2007 D. H. Maxine.

Below, you can enjoy "Zap the World!" from PUFNSTUF the movie!

Waffles & Walkyries

Eric waiting at Gare du Nord to catch the Thalys to Brussels

So we were off at last to visit our myspace friends Katerine and Mark in Ghent, Belgium. We took the Metro to Gare du Nord and boarded the Thalys (TGV) to Brussels where we changed to a different train to take us the last bit of the way to Ghent. We arrived about 20 minutes late and there was no immediate sign of Katerine. But I soon spotted her - looking exactly like her photos. It really seemed like meeting an old friend instead of an "internet friend." I think we were both what we each expected. Except that Katerine was surprised I didn't have a thick American accent. I'm not quite sure whether she was expecting me to sound like Clint Eastwood, a surfer boy, or a Valley Girl.

Eric had gone to search the other end of the station but he soon joined us and we were all happy and ready to depart to Chez Dynaction, or as some folks call it, The International House of Waffles. Katerine and Mark live only blocks from the Train Station and we were at their place in no time. We met Mark, whom I had forgotten was British. He welcomed us, too. Though I secretly feared that Mark thought, "Uh-oh, what's that crazy wife of mine done now!"

The Waffles have a beautiful four-story row-house style home. Their daughter Eva had kindly given up her room for us; and we took our luggage up to her room on the fourth floor. On returning to the kitchen Katerine made us a snack and brought out a bottle of red wine. Katerine now mentioned that she and Mark had been so busy that they forgotten to go to the opera a few days before. They'd had tickets to see Wagner's DIE WALKURE at the Vlaamse Opera which they had purchased after reading of my Richard Wagner enthusiasm. Katerine pulled out the opera schedule to see if they were going to be able to reschedule and there was going to be a performance the next night - while Eric and I were still in Ghent. So we decided to all go to DIE WALKURE together!

Katerine next offered up a small bottle of very spiffy champagne. And once we were properly sauced, Katerine told us her plan. We were going to go out on a tour of the old section of Ghent on bicycles! Now I have not been on a bicycle since 1995. It sounded like a good idea though, and once I made clear I was likely to fall off or end up in the river, we were all set to go.

Mark, Katerine, and David tour Ghent on Bicycle

I was astonished at how beautiful Ghent was. I often would find myself looking at a building or some-such and nearly run off the road. Biking on cobblestones was a new experince. I suspect women enjoy it more then men do. Our first stop was the Cathedral of St. Bavon where we saw the Ghent Altarpiece by Jan Van Eyck.

Ghent Altarpiece by Jan Van Eyck

The moment Katerine mentioned it I remembered it from Art History Class. It was quite impressive. The Cathedral was nice, too. Off we went down the cobblestone streets, across beautiful bridges, we saw houses Katerine had lived in, where the kids were born, and much else. Soon it was time to stop for beer. We each had two. So now after downing the bottle of red wine, the champagne, and two dark beers, we came out of the pub to find it snowing lightly. To be tipsy in the snow in Ghent is a wonderful experience. To be tipsy in the snow in Ghent on a bicycle is another thing all together! It was getting cold and I loaned Katerine my hat.

We returned safely to Chez Waffle and Katerine prepared some hot soup to warm us up. The three kids (Calvin, Lucas, and Eva) had now come home, too. I asked Katerine what kind of soup it was. I was told Courgette Soup! Ah, I wondered, what on earth is a courgette? Or is it a place? An herb? I worried, "Uh oh, Cour means heart in French. I hope it's not Heart Soup." So began the process of Katerine and the Waffle kids trying to explain what a courgette was. Finally, Lucas very sensibly went to the refrigerator and produced a courgette for me. "Oh," I cried, "a zucchini!"

We had more red wine, the kids played music for us, we looked at stuff. Mark built up the fire, and Katerine began preparing dinner. It was a dinner I might have made at home myself: salad, green beans, and salmon. After dinner we sat around and talked, drank more wine, and Katerine and Mark showed us a couple episodes of a British sit-com called BOTTOM.

A little before midnight Mark went up to bed and Katerine wanted to dance. I do not dance if I can help it. I am too self-conscious. But that did not stop Eric and Katerine. And do you know what one dances to in Ghent at midnight? The Bee Gees! We eventually finished out the evening with a sweet white wine that Katerine especially liked.

The next morning after a little breakfast Eric and I went back to the old part of Ghent to do some sight-seeing. We went to "the Castle of the Counts." Katerine had told us to make sure and see the dungeon and torture implements! Hmmmmm...

Eric in front of The Castle of the Counts

Eric and I had a nice lunch at a Belgian pub and then went to look at a Belgian comicbook store. We ate a waffle on the street, Eric bought some chocolates for his mom, I bought a few more things at FNAC, and we headed back to K&M to prepare for our Night at the Opera!

DIE WALKURE at Vlaamse Opera in Ghent

DIE WALKURE was wonderful. I will blog a review of it soon. And Katerine and Mark seemed to be very pleased with Wag's music. Even Eric enjoyed it. After Wotan put Brunhilde to sleep and the opera was over we went down the street and had a couple beers. Then we went to a beautiful artsy, leftist, bar with a most handsome crowd and had two more beers. We got back to the Waffle Iron about 3:00 AM

When we got up there was about 5 inches of snow on the ground and Ghent had been transformed into a sugary ice-frosted fairyland. We drank coffee, packed our bags, and all four of us went out to a delicous lunch. We were taken to the train station and said farewell to the Waffles.

Eric and I arrived back in Paris about 4:30 PM and rechecked into our hotel. Eric went out to buy a few more French comics, and we headed to the Paris Opera at Palais-Garnier to see two one-acts: Janacek's JOURNAL D'UN DISPARU and Bartok's LE CHATEAU DE BARBE-BLEU. We had most unusual (if inexpenive) seats up on the Fifth Loge in little alcoves above the boxes where we could peek out at the opera. I'm glad I saw these two operas but was not blown away by either. But it was nice to see Willard White as Blue-Beard.

The next morning we arose, got some breakfast, packed and left for the airport to fly home.

David and Katerine in Ghent

A Bientot, mes amies...
David

When you talk about this blog later, and you will, be kind.
Copyright © 2007 D. H. Maxine

The last time I saw Paris

Alors, mes amies, I had the divine pleasure of visiting France twice this year. This is the report on voyage number one.

As some of you know, the purpose of this trip was for my boyfriend, Eric, to go on a signing tour to promote the newest volume of his AGE OF BRONZE comic series in France.

The adventure began with a drive of 525 miles from San Diego to San Francisco so we could leave the dog-child with his grandparents. Then Eric's dad kindly drove us to the airport and sent us on our way. Twenty-four clock hours later we arrived at Roissey-Charles de Gaulle airport just outside Paris.

Eric's French publisher met us at the airport and drove us to our hotel near the Luxembourg Gardens in the Latin Quarter. We checked in and promptly fell asleep until mid-evening when we arose to go find dinner. We ate at a small but wonderful restaurant that a friend had recommended called Le Petit Pontoise, at 9 rue de Pontoise. I began with an artichoke tart followed by a small rack of lamb. Eric began with a succulent sort of ravioli followed by a main course of caille which Eric discovered was French for quail. It seemed a grand success. We had a bottle of wine, both ordered dessert, and I had coffee. We walked slowly back to the hotel, stuffed full of French food and drink.

I spent the first few hours the next morning looking for a new coat. I had decided my bright yellow Nautica parka looked stupid and was too hot. I finally found a great looking coat. I was looking at it in the mirror and thought, "Now this is a fine coat!" Then all of a sudden Eric says: "David, did you see the back of that coat?" I take the coat off and for some unfathomable reason there is a picture of a geisha girl showing her bare butt, silk-screened onto the back of the coat. So off it came and I never did find another coat I liked and I suffered through the trip in my puffy yellow marshmallow suit. Eric and I went to lunch at La Tourelle, a very small and very old restaurant not far from our hotel. I had the most extraordinary tomato soup imaginable followed by a turkey curry.

You may have noticed that this report describes much eating and drinking. But there was also much wandering around, simply absorbing the sights.

Me by a fountain near our hotel.

I truly love walking down the Seine. In addition to the usual architectural, cultural, and atmospheric sights, there were also innumerable beautiful French boys everywhere we went. Once, my eyes followed a pretty French boy and my body continued in another direction and I tripped over the sidewalk! Paris can be dangerous!

We then walked over to Album on Rue Dante. Album is a chain of comic-book stores in France. Eric signed books and drew sketches for several hours. Then we went out to dinner with another American cartoonist; this time to a small Indian place.

Eric Signing books at Album Rue Dante in Paris

The next morning Eric and I walked over to the Centre George Pompidou in the hopes of seeing the Hergé exhibit. Hergé is the Belgian cartoonist who wrote and drew the Tintin books. Alas, the Pompidou was celebrating its thirtieth birthday and was closed to the public! Hmmm.… So we walked over and spent a few hours at the Louvre. Then Eric and I headed over for signing number two at Album Bercy. After which we went out to dinner with the French publishers and Ted Naifeh, a fellow American cartoonist.

The next morning we caught a train to Chartres for another signing - this time at a store called BD Flash. BD is the French slang for comics. It is short for Bande Dessinee (comic strip). The comic store sent someone to meet us and we were taken to lunch (pizza and beer) and then a short walking tour of Chartres and the cathedral. Then Eric went to his signing and drew pictures in people's book for a couple hours. I went out and bought opera CDs at the local FNAC and found a chocolate shop where a nice woman made me a stupendous cup of hot chocolate. This fine concoction was just melted chocolate, a bit of steam, and then more chocolate dropped in. It was incredible! After the singing we went out to a Japanese restaurant in Chartres and then returned to the store owner's home to spend the night. It was really nice to get to stay in someone's home instead of a hotel. It was a nice closer look at how people live, etc. Especially cool was their having to close some immense shutters for the night. We had hot chocolate and croissants for breakfast and were driven to the train to travel to Tours for another signing.

After arriving in Tours a couple hours later we were again met at the station and taken to lunch. Again, we had pizza! Really good pizza, mind you, but this was starting to seem like a trend. On entering the restaurant we were met by a long table of about twenty or so French cartoonists who were out for their monthly luncheon. After lunch we headed to the signing, this time at a lovely store called BéDéLire.

At BéDéLire in Tours, France

Eric did his thing and I walked around Tours, looked at BD and books, and then we all went out to dinner and drink, and eventually back to our hotel. Eric and I both really liked Tours and I think it is on the short-list of possible future homes one day.

Next morning it was back on the train to return to Paris and the last signing event of the trip at FNAC - St. Lazarre. This one was kind of overwhelming. It went on and on and eventually the store seemed to be closed and Eric and Ted were still signing books and drawing pictures and the FNAC staff seemed to be getting a little testy. Seems to me FNAC should have controlled the crowds a little better if they wanted to get home on time. After the last picture was drawn, we were shown unceremoniously out the back way. Eric and Ted and I took the Metro back to the hotel and then went out to dinner. We found a great little restaurant called Au Phil… Du Vin at 23 Frederic Sauton. We began with the Cocktail Maison, which I think was a mix of grapefruit juice and Chartreuse. I had soupe à l'oignon, I ate a couple of Eric's escargot, followed by my magret du canard, and ending with dessert, coffee, and cognac.

At last the signings were over and we had Paris to ourselves. Next morning we got up and walked down the Seine and then over to the Bastille to meet our friends Virginie and Laurent for lunch. Eric and I sampled fresh French oysters for the first time and we all walked back to Virginie and Laurent's apartment for a while.

Laurent, Virginie, and Eric

Towards late afternoon they walked us over to Gare de Lyon to help us buy our TGV tickets to Belgium. We said good-bye and headed back to the hotel for a short rest. That evening we went to visit another friend (also named Laurent) and his wife Sylvie. He and his wife made us a wonderful dinner of cabbage with sausages and ham and pork. We were joined by another French cartoonist named Dominique. Laurent and Sylvie had a wonderful roof-top view of Paris, too.

The next morning we got up and went down to Opera Bastille to buy opera tickets. And then took the Metro to the Eiffel Tower to take some artsy black-and-white photos. We walked back down the Seine, took more photos around the Hotel de Ville and Notre Dame, and finally got into the Hergé TinTin exhibit at the Pompidou. We got back to the hotel about 6:30 PM and fell asleep. We woke up about 10:00 PM we were still exhausted, and not at all hungry, so we never had lunch or dinner that day.

The next morning we packed up and headed for the train station to get the Thalys (TGV) to Gent, Belgium.
And THAT deserves a blog of its own!

David

When you talk about this blog later, and you will, be kind.

Copyright © 2007 D. H. Maxine

TURANDOT

Final Design Painting TURANDOT - Act II, Scene 2

A number of you have asked me about my days as a Set Designer and so I thought I'd post a few things.

For my thesis at Yale, where I was getting my MFA, I chose to design Giacomo Puccini's opera TURANDOT. Some of my fellow students thought I was a bit fool-hardy to choose an opera set in China when the head of the design department was the highly respected Chinese/American Set Designer, Ming Cho Lee. Luckily he was pleased with my design and I got my MFA. Oh, I did get into trouble on ONE little thing. The Emperor's hat (in the costume sketch) is from the wrong period based on most of my architecture. I told Ming I'd change the hat.

Below are presented various steps in the design process. The "thesis" design had to include paintings, a 1/4" scale model, full architectural drafting, lighting sketches, and costume designs. We also had to design the set as if for a "real" opera house - so I chose the MET. I also used this project for my "union exam."

Below you will see the initial watercolor sketch for each set followed by a photograph of the 1/4" scale model. For reference a person is only one and a half inches tall.

I began months before by absorbing every note of TURANDOT via CD. I also read everything about the opera that I could. I wanted simple and elegant - not over-the-top Zefferelli. I chose a red-lacquer motif for almost everything. I started out doing quick paintings of the big moment in each act.

First watercolor sketch TURANDOT - Act I


1/4" scale model of TURANDOT - Act I

Act II - scene 1 "Ping, Pang, Pong" trio
For the opening of Act II I wanted the "Ping, Pang, Pong," scene to be intimate and small. It's a lovely little lyrical scene and it contrasts wonderfully with the huge spectacle of the "In Questa Regia," and "Riddle" scenes of Act II - Scene 2. I set the little scene in a small red-lacquered room - just the size for the three-person scene.

First watercolor sketch TURANDOT - Act II, Scene 1

Act II - scene 2 "In Questa Reggia," and "Riddle" scene.
As the first scene ended the little red room appeared to slowly shrink into blackness and just as it completely disappeared it reopened with the the big fanfare of scene 2 revealing the great staircase, emperor, et al.

1/4" scale model of TURANDOT - Act II, Scene 2

Act III - scene 1 "Nessun Dorma" and "Death of Liu" scenes.
A fairly barren scene with the unknown Prince out in the Gardens while he is cajoled, bribed, and threatened into revealing his name. I also like his appearing small and lonely and a little vulnerable among the giant statuary. Often the chorus would enter from upstage as if the garden was at the top of a terrace.

First watercolor sketch TURANDOT - Act III, Scene 1


1/4" scale model of TURANDOT - Act III, Scene 1

Act III- scene 2 "Turandot Guesses Correctly" scene.
We revert to the Act II - Scene 2 set. As imaginary director I also opted to use the full-length Franco Alfano ending. It's wonderful AND it gives me another forty seconds of set change music.

Down below are my costume sketches of the main characters. As a set designer I was not required to go beyond the "sketch" stage for this project.

I hope you've enjoyed this glimpse into David's designing days. Iif the MET calls, I'm their boy! Actually, if ANYBODY calls I'm their boy! If you have any questions about the project, please feel free to ask in the comments section and I'll try to oblige. Thanks for looking.

David

All images, photos, and designs copyright © 2007 by David Maxine. All rights reserved.

When I think of Tom

I discovered a couple months ago that my first love, Tom Ladd, died on January 22, 2006. I found an obituary on-line and it said only that he had died of unknown causes. He was 44. I fell madly in-love with Tom in January 1985, when we were both working at the Guthrie Theatre in Minneapolis. I was 22; Tom was 23. Tom gave me my first real kiss, too. I hadn't seen or communicated with Tom for about twenty years. But I thought about him often and really wanted him to know how my life turned out. Tom was cute; but his magic power was that he just radiated sexual energy. One simply HAD to look at him, his face, his movements, he flirted with everyone, slept with many, and he just oozed sexiness. Here is our story. 

"Anything Goes!" 

In January 1985, I was working as a stagehand at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. On this particular day we were beginning two weeks of "tech" rehearsals for a large-scale production of Cole Porter's ANYTHING GOES! It starred legendary belter Karen Morrow as Reno Sweeney, Steve Hanan as Moonface Martin, Maureen Brennan as Hope, and featured Broadway veteran Justine Johnston as Mrs. Harcourt. Johnston may be best remembered today as "Old Heidi" in the original production of FOLLIES in which she sang "One More Kiss." I was one of about five permanent stagehands - but this production was bigger than anything the Guthrie had ever done - and they had hired an additional ten people to fill out our ranks. On this first day, we had an orientation meeting up in the balcony of the theatre; the stage was a-buzz with saws and screw-guns where the Carpentry Shop was building a three-story ocean liner! I was paying only slight attention when . . . my eyes scanning over the new stagehands when . . . "Who's that boy!" And thus, Cole Porter struck me gay!

Well, maybe I was always gay, but I certainly didn't know it until then. And I didn't know it as an irrefutable aspect of my being for another few weeks. I was twenty-two, I'd never been on a date, I'd never had a girlfriend, and I was waiting for the "magic" to happen when I'd meet the right girl and feel like a grown-up. But really, "Who's that boy!" This was Tom. He was almost exactly a year older than I was. He was about 5' - 8" and 140 pounds. He had sandy brown hair, blue eyes, a stunning smile, and he simply glowed with sexual energy. I know now that I was in love. But at this point, I was probably falling back on a repressed gay-boy's safety-emotion - "I want to BE him" instead of "I want to have sex with him." Over the coming days I discovered that Tom was gay. OH MY GOD! And that did the trick. I had to become gay, too, so I could have him. I didn't say anything about my new feelings; I didn't know how. But I quickly discovered that not only Tom but another couple stagehands were gay, too. As was the entire gang of chorus boys. And this was a Cole Porter show! My soul was suddenly being informed by Porter's double-entendre lyrics, scads of young men in sailor suits dancing their asses off from eight till eleven then changing into t-shirts and jeans so they could go dance at some gay bar called The Saloon in downtown Minneapolis for several hours more. 

"Blow, Gabriel, Blow!" 

During a break in the Green Room one-day, Tom was just beginning to eat a banana when one of the other gay stagehands said, "Is that for practice?" Tom, without batting an eyelash, said, "I dont NEED to practice." And Tom expertly deep-throated the entire banana and slowly pulled it back out. I was speechless, awestruck, and insanely in love. I became a love-sick puppy and followed the poor boy around. Luckily many of our assignments kept us together during the run of the show. One of my favorite moments was during Act II when Tom and I would have to wait in one of the Guthrie's downstage tunnels during the song, "All Through the Night." It's a beautiful song, and all this blue light would spill down the tunnel shaftway, and Tom and I would sit and wait for our cue - sometimes whispering to each other. I was nearing a point when I felt I could say, "Tom, I'm gay, too. I don't know what to do." 

"Break a Leg!" 

On Valentine's Day 1985, after the show had been open for about two weeks, we were presetting the stage about 6:00 PM and someone said that we needed to find a replacement for Tom. My heart stopped. Why isn't Tom gonna be here? In a few moments I heard the dreadful news. Tom had been hit by a car on the way to work that night. He was fine - save a broken leg. But he would not be back to the show. My ticket to homosexual joy was snuffed out by a speeding motorist on Hennepin Avenue. I was appointed by the cast and crew to assemble Tom's "get well" package. Yay!! I knew his favorite candy, drinks, and also added in the SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE cast album. I visited him in the hospital a couple times. Then he went away to recuperate. Tom did make it back to work the last few weeks of the show as ANYTHING GOES! proved so popular the run was extended. On Memorial Day 1985, I went home with him to talk and have a drink. I desperately wanted to sleep with him. Tom felt it was a bad idea - since I was so clearly in love with him - and for him it would just be sex. But he walked me part way home and gave me my first boy-kiss. I always thought it was a cliché about floating on air. It isn't! I wouldn't brush my teeth that night, either. I didn't want to lose even a molecule of Tom from my mouth. 

"But if, baby, I'm the bottom, you're the top!" 

About a year after we initially met, Tom and I finally had sex for the first and only time. It was okay. It simply meant too much to me - and not enough to him. I was so scared that it be wonderful that I made it mediocre. But he was glorious naked. He had arguably the most beautiful penis I have ever seen! Tom wanted to screw me but we didn't have any condoms and I wouldn't let him. God he was hard to turn down that night! I wanted him SO much. But I was a very good boy. 

"It's Delightful, it's Delicious, it's Delovely!" 

So I've now known I was gay for twenty-one years - slightly less than half my life. You know, I had an incredibly painless coming out. My family was cool with it. Within a year I would meet Eric, my lover, whom I've been with for a little over seventeen years. Eric's family is fine with everything, too. I wish I had tracked down Tom so I could tell him how I turned out. I miss him. I remember signing in on the Guthrie Theatre's call-board and suddenly Tom appeared, put his hands around my waist and said, "Hi, sailor, can I buy you a drink after the show?" Instant hard-on time, instant adrenaline rush, instant puppy love. 

Tom and I both loved musicals, too. He was jealous I'd just seen SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE. We both jokingly talked about how we could have "saved" MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG. Tom introduced me to Carly Simon's TORCH album which had a stunning version of "Not a Day Goes By" on it. He introduced me to the the cast albums of BABY and LITTLE SHOP. I remember Tom's 24th birthday party and how he wore this incredible football jersey he had gotten from a previous boyfriend whose last name was Savage and whose number was 69. The very real football jersey said "Savage 69" on it. It was the hottest "get laid" clothing I ever saw! 

After ANYTHING GOES! Tom got a job as manager of the Uptown Theatre in Minneapolis. The Uptown was an independent movie/art house/revival house sort of theatre. Eventually he moved back to Chicago and we lost touch. Tom and I wouldn't have worked out. I was freshly out, a virgin when we met. Tom had been fuckin' like a bunny since he was sixteen when he'd been picked up by an old man of thirty-five at the supermarket. But I joked to him that someday, in twenty or thirty years, he'd be tired of screwing boys and he'd come to me like Frederick to Desiree in A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC. He laughed and said it sounded great! It was a fun fantasy. 

I always look for personal angles into songs and music I love. In "Hello, Young Lovers," from THE KING AND I, in which Anna is singing of her past, she begins the song with the line, "When I think of Tom . . ." and continues to tell of her memories and past love as she watches and sings "hello" to the newer, younger lovers. It's a melancholy song, full of ennui, full of love, full of gratitude and regret. "When I think of Tom . . ."