Charlie

A friend of mine has just moved from Palm Springs, where at this moment it is 94 and sunny, with 16% humidity, to Ann Arbor, Michigan, where at this moment it is 32 with mixed snow and rain. I am not eager to visit her anytime soon.

Back in the early 1950s, there were little fanzines (3"x5") sold on newsstands, and I bought one of Elvis for about 25 cents. He was still a new young singer, and there was one black and white photo of him without a shirt, that I used as jack-off material. I didn't have to hide it from my parents, the way I did my copies of Physique Pictorial.

I have met a few, but probably the most notable was Martin Luther King, Jr., when I was a young man.

I am outside the gay sex scene in PS, and I have never stayed at a gay resort here, so I can relay only hearsay. However, I was told a few years ago that one can buy a day pass to use CCBC, even if you are not actually staying there.

Those old candid photos of street traffic around Times Square certainly bring back memories of my seamy youth.

At the end of the 1960s, there was a brief fashion fad for "see-through" shirts for men--you could even buy them off the rack at upscale department stores like Bloomingdales. My partner and I decided it would be fun to throw a "see-through" shirt party on a bitter cold Saturday night in December. Everyone who was invited wore a see through shirt, including one queen who had one custom made by a fashion designer. The last guest to arrive was a very handsome young man, who immediately retreated to the bedroom with his bag, and emerged a few minutes later in a beautiful white mesh see-through shirt....and matching see-through pants. Needless to say, the party was an enormous success, and guests reminisced to me about it for years.

I haven't felt so emotionally violated since Lucy and Desi split. How can I go on believing in HGTV (my substitute for organized religion)?

Every escort I have ever known well has reported having sex with other escorts, for fun, for pay, or as a professional courtesy.

The "boys next door" to me don't look anything like this--they're in their 60s.

I read that there was only one exit staircase to get down from the second floor. How many times have I seen this kind of claim made about catastrophes in private clubs? When I was younger, I often attended private clubs, but I always made a mental map of how to get out if I had to, and I would not stay in a place that had only one option.

Well, of course I do. Also the Everards and several other bath houses. Those were the Good Olde Days, when all one worried about was clap, crabs, hepatitis, syphilis and giardiasis. And falling in love with someone who didn't look so good outside in daylight.

When I lived in Vienna 30 years ago, older people still dressed fairly formally even to go shopping. I have not been back in a long time, but I assume that has changed by now.

I haven't been to a rehearsal in quite some time, but I remember that when I did, the women were usually better dressed than the men; the principals often wore dresses, pearls, and heels, while the men more often were in casual shirts and slacks. I'm sure that has changed, just as attire for almost any occasion has become much less formal than it used to be in the western world. When I started teaching, the big controversy between the administration and faculty was whether women could wear pants instead of skirts while teaching. Ironically, the fact that both genders smoked while we lectured was not even an issue.

I think dressing up for the opera is more common in smaller venues with only a few performances. The only place I have seen almost everyone "dressed up" for a performance in recent years was the Salt Lake City Opera; even the young people in the audience were wearing their best outfits, although the older folk might have found their taste inappropriate in some cases. Major houses with frequent performances, like the Met or Covent Garden, draw a lot of local regulars who care more about the opera than their own appearance, and are not inclined to dress up every time they attend. My best friend lived across the street from Lincoln Center and went a couple of times per week; he would get home from work, take a short nap, grab a bite to eat, and walk across to the house, so he wasn't inclined to dress up for what was routine, not a special event.

No, those are the same two possibilities I saw when I read it. And that is a true contronym.

Why don't my plumbers, electricians, cable guys, gardeners, etc., ever look like these guys?

I find these guys much sexier than the plastic dolls that most of the professional models resemble.

But I am literally a pedant!

Oh, dear! They have capitulated to the barbarians!

The implied meaning of "literally" as used by so many speakers nowadays--i.e., "as good as actually" or sometimes "almost," as in "I am literally tearing my hair out!"--is not considered Standard English. "Flammable" and "inflammable" are both considered correct.

According to my dictionary, "irregardless" (a double negative in itself) is non-standard and not acceptable unless the obvious intent is humor.

And what does one call two words that look like opposites but actually mean the same thing, like flammable and inflammable?

Many years ago in NY, I hired an escort, and when I arrived at his East Side apartment, I realized that I had seen him onstage at the NY City Opera a few weeks earlier. But now I can't remember who he was or what the role was! (the operatic role, I mean--he was definitely a top). I only remember that he had a barber's chair in his living room, so I suppose I should call him Figaro.

I would prefer to hire the escort for fun in the afternoon, and then enjoy the opera on my own in the evening, especially if it is Rheingold, which has no intermissions during which one can parade around one's escort to show off.

I have never been much of a theater-goer, so I didn't save programs, and my memories are pretty vague. The first show I ever went to in NY was the original 1960 off-Broadway production (somewhere in the Village--Sullivan St?) of The Fantasticks with Jerry Ohrbach; all I remember of it is (appropriately) "Try to remember." I also went to the original off-Broadway productions of Hair and The Boys in the Band. On Broadway I remember seeing Amadeus (not the performance that purplekow described) and C0mpany. The only plays I remember seeing in London in the 1970s were The Mousetrap (it had already been running on Shaftesbury Avenue for years) and A Chorus Line, although I know I saw some lesser known works in small theaters.