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!