Tales Of Texas-Tale 1

I should preface this writings by saying my experiences in Texas have never been that great. As a result, for a great many years, I ended up hating Texas and vowed never to return.

The last time I was in Texas proper was 2002 after a long reading and performance tour via Greyhound Bus.

15 states in 14 days.

This summer marks my return to the state I hate for the first time in nearly 14 years and I’m excited at the prospect of its outcome. A completely opposite feeling from a few months ago. Another tale for another time with a good outcome (I hope).

Over the years, my feelings about Texas never changed. Within the last 3 years however, with the advent of meeting fellow performers & friends through social media platforms such as Facebook, returning to and graduating from grad school with students in the program from Texas, and a few close friends who moved there, my feelings toward the state have slowly begun to disintegrate.

I hated Texas because of all the bad experiences I had there. More so, with Jay and Charlie (initially) and a number of related incidents there. Not that it’s all lovey dovey at this point, but it will take time to get reacquainted with a still formidable enemy.

 And now, onto my first Texas Tale…

Tale Number 1-First Time In Texas

In 1986, when I visited Texas for the very first time, I stayed in Spring, Texas, which is a suburb of Houston. Jay’s dad didn’t exactly like me-he was a former oilman, a very rich and successful businessman whose wealth was siphoned from him during the oil bust of 1985. He was bitter and he was hurting. Had to sell all of his priceless artwork and African masks.

He wanted me to earn my keep. That was just his way. Hindsight says he was damn near broke and needed the money. But, he expected me to pay him rent for staying at his home for 2 weeks. I balked at that idea and did chores instead.

His divorced (and alcoholic) mother thought I was Jay’s rag doll for gay sex. That played out very badly one night during a dinner at an area Houston restaurant. A bloody screaming match between mother and son, that by present standards, would have made today’s reality TV show staged fights appear exceedingly normal.

Jay was adopted. Full-blood Hidatsa. Jay had just come out to me 2 years earlier (Summer, 1984) while we were stationed at Western Illinois University in Macomb, Illinois in the journalism program.

I met Jay the summer of 1984 during a residence floor activity in early July. We all went to see the film Ghostbusters at Cinema Twin, near the Hy Vee grocery store. It was him and I who straggled along that got us to talking to each other. I don’t remember much more about that night other than to say we became fast friends.

I didn’t understand much about the gay-lesbian stuff back then. The only moment I recall with him was the phrase he used over and over that summer, that “He has the look.” 

Back in Houston, during the 4^th of July weekend, in 1986, a rather hot and humid weekend I should add, we went into a gay leather biker bar one night-on Montrose Avenue-I don't recall which one it was. I do remember they had a backyard and a general store inside.

We get in.

We separate.

Little did I know that he left the bar and planted himself outside.  No way to text him or call him, it was still 1986, after all.

So I wander around and then I go to the backyard, where there's a barbecue and a slave auction with men in full leather chaps in progress.

I'm in the back curiously watching, when suddenly, I hear directly in back of me, a tall lean man with a deep booming Southern voice growling, "This bar is for big boys only," knowing full well, he was talking to me. I got the hint and left. I went to the general store inside the bar and bought a button that read, "I use Crisco." 

I still have that button.

I found Jay outside waiting for me in the parking lot of the bar.

“How long were you out here waiting?” I ask him

“20 minutes,” he says.

“Why didn’t you come and find me?” I asked him.

“I was lazy,” he says.

I shake my head, as we head out into the warm muggy night off and in search of other adventures.