I realize there are going to be some of you who have no idea
what would make what seems like an only slightly wacko life
such a difficult one to want to carry on.
For you guys (and gals), here's parts one and two of
an article -- one of soooo many -- that sums it up for ya:

THE STICKING POINT

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� Yeah, well... he may have faced life in prison, but what he got was... 5.5 years, including time served. Meaning? He should be out this month, April 2001. Why? Simple: The city of San Francisco didn't want this trial to happen. Think about it - the press would have had a field day. Here this guy - me - checks into a city-owned hospital for help, and what does he get? Nearly killed. Kind of embarrassing, don't ya think? Better to offer this psycho Freeman the deal of the century - an offer he couldn't refuse. Kept it all nice & quiet, with the only coverage coming from the gay press, which by its very nature would seem biased and as such, probably inaccurate. (It wasn't.) The story's so damned unbelievable just as it is; keeping it hushed up by containing it internally this way was a stroke of genius. Bravo, San Francisco. What a coup.

Back to An Interrupted Life

(left)

My Dad lost a big piece of himself when my
Mom died. And maybe just a little dignity, too, since
here we see him at a party in what can only be called
"Entertaining the Troops" drag. The sign says: "If you
want me, you can have me if..." (leading one to the sign
on his back: "...the Price is Right".

Scared yet?

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My lover of a couple of years,
and close friend of many more, Rory.

This was taken on Valentine's Day, 1985 (I think),
the day that I finally wooed him from his
then-boyfriend in LA. I went all-out:
dozens of roses, helium-filled red mylar
heart-shaped balloons, the little heart-shaped
lamp behind him (if you look carefully,
you'll spot it in any number of other pics
on this site). That doesn't mean the guys in those
pics captured my heart the way that Rory did.

I love you, RJ. -- always will.

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Christmas, post Rory, on
Castro and 19th, over the Oyster Bar.
Quiz: What was I in this pic that I was almost every holiday?

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Answer: Alone.

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(right)

On the roof at 3322 16th Street. I got a lot of use
out of these pics, taken by a friend of my then lover,
Paul Drennan. Paul died of AIDS-complicated
liver failure shortly after we parted ways.
I can't help but think that he knows I'm
coming soon. I can't wait
to see him again.

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(left)

There's me, Zee (aka Linda) and her
less than gracious...cousin, I think he was, at her place in Portland.

I know I grew up with Angela, but Zee was, is,
and will always be my true sister. That's why I know
she'll forgive me for showing her without make-up here.
(If I can find any of the pics I have of her in full regalia in time,
I'll include them here.) It doesn't matter though.
She's a beauiful woman with or without the trappings,
and everyone who truly knows her
knows it. I love you, Zee.
See you up there.

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Glamor, NYC style.
Dirk Velten & Maria Alvarez very
nearly married -- but then didn't. They were good
friends of mine. Here's Maria and me exhausted
from a shopping jag in the Village.
Dirk took this and a good many of the
other pics on this site. They broke up.
I had already moved. Life goes on.
Often we leave behind the people
and things we'll need most later on...

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I remember this one - I was in college and stopped at this Times Square photo booth to take a picture for this guy I was in love with, Charles Wayne Collum, a theatrical set construction guy. We eventually cohabitated in this large, mouse-ridden second-floor apartment -- 412 East 12th at Second Avenue. $425/month, though now it probably goes for 5 times that.

I have a gift for finding apartments in marginal areas and toughing it out waiting for gentrification, then leaving the place about a week before it finally gets better.

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That Doug Henning hair DID get better, though...

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(right)

What year? Who can remember? It was Thanksgiving in some Italian joint here in SF - North Beach, to be specific. Dad and his new wife, a grabby, doughy redhead named Lucy (below) (how appropriate) had come out here on vacation,
lustily spending my inheritance.

The weird effect those globe lights are making in the background of the pic of Dad and me is just too bizarre.

Note that the same effect doesn't appear in the pic of Dad and the shrew, left. Proof of God at work.

I remember assuming it would be the last time
that I'd see Dad alive. How was I supposed to know that a few short years later, he'd be standing by my hospital bed holding my cock as I peed into a plastic bottle?

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(right)

Rory as Barney, me as Fred. Halloween,
As if you need an excuse in this town.
These were the good times.

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____Calling you sinners, come HOME