Monday, August 24, 2015

My First Boy

A  L  O  H  A !
I was 15 in a new neighborhood.

The High School I attended was
 a big, modern red brick factory, 
a "good" school. 
But I found it rather dehumanizing.


While the Beatles sang, 
and I attended the first Earth Day 
in Philadelphia's Fairmount Park, 
my school was run by crew-cutted, 
career educators who believed in 
instilling certain values
 in the boys and girls
 in order to stem the tide 
of psychedelic social rebellion 
that they abhorred.





Then I met a boy 
who lived a couple of miles away 
and attended another school,
 a "worse" school 
where he was the butt 
of abuse for being dark 
and quiet with amazingly 
expressive brown eyes.
The bullies loved to see 
pain register in those eyes
and called him The Mexican.






That's Carl on the left

He was actually Jewish, with a grandfather who had escaped poverty, sanctioned abuse, and a forced 20 year stretch in the Russian Army, by leaving Russia on horse back; and who had a picture of himself smoking a hookah with some sepia Turkoman traders. "Fuck the Czar" he always began when asked about those days. I cannot hear anything about the Czar on the History Channel or anywhere else without muttering "Fuck the Czar" under my breath in tribute to the old man.


One time, Carl (my friend) 
tried to shock grandpa 
by inviting him to smoke 
some hash with us.

"Hashish?! He asked incredulously.

"You want to smoke hashish!? - 
Hashish you EAT!!!!!"


We laughed about that for years.
Heck, I still do!










Carl's family was blue collar too,
 and we soon became inseparable.

We were both carrying some baggage, 
OK, full baggage cars FULL of baggage.

We hid out together in his bedroom 
and he taught me everything about classic films, 
though people called them "old movies" then,
 and they papered late night TV 
clotted with commercials.


He showed me the classic movie goddesses and heroes.
We learned about history, sociology, and culture.
Together we gasped at Busby Berkley's choreography,
and Cagney's style.


We especially loved the film noir of the 50's 
which spoke well to the lingering, sooty Philadelphia 
that we lived in.




Our lives entwined.





I had a chance (as a thoughtful troublemaker) 
to get into a new alternative high school
 that was a progressive experiment of the times, 
Parkway.


Carl, moored in high school torment 
applied among thousands 
and got in fairly! 
A bonifide miracle!


But Parkway's head master, 
a charming Englishman called John Bremer 
would not accede to my Principal's request 
to de-acquisition me.




I had to cut school and show up at his desk
 to articulate my absolute need 
to be in MY new school-reality, 
he took a liking to me 
and I was the only part-time student 
in the 150 student school. 
Mornings in prison regulated by bells,
 afternoons in the modern world of education. 
(Kevin Bacon was one of our stairwell card players, 
a fellow student that I was kinda scared of.)





Carl and I went to school together every day,
 & spent all our time together. 
We schooled ourselves in mind expansion 
and film culture at night as the adults slept.



Sometimes we'd drive to Chinatown in his mom's Mercury 
at 3 am for Wor Shu Op (Pressed Duck)
 at the old South China on 10th street. 
One night, Jerry Stiller walked in 
to get take out; he was performing in town 
with his wife: Stiller & Meara. 
Their kid, Ben, was in footsie pajamas - 
not comedy movies back then.





One year, after a full night of ritual drinking,
 Carl went to South Philly to join the Clown Brigades
 of the New Year's MUMMER's PARADE. 
If you are at all interested in folk life, 
you MUST see the Mummers Parade in Philly! 

Carl, drunk as regulations and custom demand,
 lurched up the street with a mob 
of other civic-minded inebriates doing the
 "Mummers Strut."


Man, I wish I had film of THAT!


It was a men-only parade back then
(a whole culture: pipe fitters 
in sequins playing banjos in the snow).




Carl and I learned about life together. 
We grew up a bit. 
We sold pot for bus fair (allegedly) .
 "Your boyfriend's gay" 
my helpful parents pointed out. 
Guess I'll hang out with a football player; 
thanks.




Once, he accompanied me on a driving trip 
with another friend of ours to Vermont 
so I could interview at Goddard College. 
Carl interviewed on a whim. 

Two weeks later we heard:
 they wanted to give him a scholarship.

 They sent me a regrets letter.
 Just like Parkway!
It changed his life.





He "came out" and became a campus star. 
Faculty member (and famed lesbian author)
 Rita Mae Brown told him:
 "Carl, if you were a woman I'd marry you."

 He started interpreting Joni Mitchell songs
 in American Sign Language
 bringing the lyrics alive
 to hearing and deaf alike.


Then he got an internship working with
 warehoused autistic kids. 
No one cared what Carl did, 
as long as no one got hurt or loud. 
He taught them sign language!



The loved his deep eyes
 that looked into their souls
 and showed his pain and beauty to them. 
Several of the kids were 
"mainstreamed" after that.
 Unheard of!
But that was Carl.







I went to college at Franconia in New Hampshire
 (for a year, long story)
 and we saw each other when we could,
 but by then we knew that we'd always be close. 

Before Facebook and Tweeting, 
we drove around northern New England 
in old Volkswagen's and Volvos.



30 Miles through a crystal cold night
 to St. Johnsberry for
 all- night Duncan Donuts 
sounds very good when you are lonely
 and young and free
 and eager to meet.
And talk.





Eventually, Carl graduated 
and moved to New York City 
as he had always dreamed. 

He was a professional sign language interpreter
 in the courts - learning everything about a fascinating reality.



Superior Court Judges mothered him.
 He was free of his abusers,
 had respect, and had learned to respect himself.

It was the best time ever to be a gay man:
The 1970's in Manhattan!





He was so excited
 when they asked him to be one of the first
 sign language interpreters to perform 
on the front of the Broadway Stage.

There he was in the playbill!


Chopinsky had been shortened to Chopin.



He was beautiful,
 sought after, and sharing
 the stage with Tommy Tune, 
Honey Coles and Twiggy
 in "My One and Only."
Just one of many productions
 that featured him.





During intermission,
 the hearing audience was buzzing
 about how they couldn't take their eyes
 off the guy signing.


And Tommy Tune 
was dancing at his peak then!


When I went back stage, 
Twiggy was swigging booze
 straight from the bottle. . . . 
Sure wish I could find that Play Bill.












Carl had had a lot of
 emotional and physical 
wear and tear in his life. 

We talked about being
 elderly together and
 reminiscing about 
the "good old days."



Bette Middler and Barry Manilow
 were performing to gay audiences
 at the "baths" 
before she was discovered. 

Bruce Springsteen was playing 
a bar in Philly every weekend;
Disco all night, 
and liberation, 
and a lot of hope for the future.



Then lots of guys started to get sick.











Carl's kidneys failed;
He went on relief 
and on dialysis.


His outer beauty 
(so important to us then) 
dimmed - 
but his soulful eyes
 grew only richer

 and deeper.
I can close my eyes 
and look into them still.





I visited him before moving to Hawaii.

But we would always stay close.


In an instant, a pause, a look, a note, 
a phone call, 
we were instantly closer 
than any two people could be.


So much of each other, so many memories 
and landmarks shared. . . .



My mom heard 
from someone in Philly 
that he had died.

This is years back, now.







A famed psychic 
once told me that 
two friends who have passed 
accompany me through life.


Perhaps I'll tell you
 about the other friend 
on another occasion.



Carl and I used to say: 
"If I close my eyes,
 you are still there.


There is more to our friendship
 than what can be touched or heard."


So true.





I often wonder how middle-aged me
 looks to forever young and handsome Carl.
 Some day we'll laugh about it.




If your friend(s) of adolescence 
are still in this world, 
call them today. 

Tell them Carl and I say
"Hi"


                   Fondly, cloudia

This was posted last year.
I decided to keep
all of the Wonderful comments.
Feel free to say, "hi'
Love You!

22 comments:

  1. a wonderful soul he was/is. seemed to touch a great many people - and especially you.

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  2. Ah Cloudia, such a friendship! What an amazing person he must have been but then he recognized the same in you, as we do out here.

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  3. You two are true hearts. Thanks for your words today especially

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  4. What a great tribute to him, Cloudia. I felt as I was reading that he was coming alive through your words.

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  5. What a wonderful story!! Glad he's one of your protector angels now.

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  6. Thanks William.

    What a nice thing to say, T

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  7. Cloudia, what a wonderful tribute to your friend Carl. You and Carl had an exciting life, I enjoyed reading the story. Thanks for sharing!

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  8. Such a wonderful guy! Carl was a winner, through and through. Knowing him must have been a blessing.

    He made happy memories for you.

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  9. carl sounds like quite the friend....i am sorry for your loss...even if its been a while..i am glad that friend is still with you...smiles.

    aloha from va

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  10. As I read in the beginning I smiled....lovely memories...when comes to the middle I started to fear..on what will happen next.

    It's so....I don't know what to say....

    One day when all of this is over, you will meet your pal again.

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  11. Fascinating life and times

    Namaste /\ from Mumbai
    Aloha!

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  12. I really don't have any friends left from those days. I didn't really have many friends!
    This is a wonderful saga of joy and love. I'm glad to share it.
    You are an amazing person.

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  13. Carl sounds just like a life long friend every girl wishes to know but often never does. Soul mates was my thought from the beginning to the end. Thanks for sharing such a rich story of best friends FOREVER! What an interesting schools years, with baby Ben and even Kevin Bacon. Fun times, even better in memories.

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  14. Like calling to like.
    He might have left early but without doubt he is waiting for you. And will see the inner you shining just as it did and does and will.

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  15. You were blessed to have such a wonderful friend and for so long Cloudia, treasured memories I'm sure. does the other person you mention perhaps appear in your fabulous book :)

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    Replies
    1. All of this was way before the time of my book. Thanks, Honey

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  16. Beautiful, thoughtful tribute, Cloudia.

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  17. Thanks friends I appreciate your comments more than you could know

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  18. I'm sitting here teary, Cloudia.

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  19. It felt familiar as I read. Such a great way to bring him back to life.

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  20. Oh Cloudia...I just had the most moving experience reading this wonderful tribute to your friend. I got chills, felt moved, chuckled, smiled, grew sad anticipating what I knew you were going to say at the end...and at the end shed a few tears. This is so beautiful, and your friendship with him too was incredibly beautiful. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you sharing this! How painful it must have been, losing him, even so far away. You will, truly, always have one another.

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