Ghetto Period

Escape to Greenwich Village After my BJ '69, I escaped to New York City where I arrived just after the Stonewall Riots and lived in Greenwich Village for several years. It was my ghetto period ­ except for my work life, I hardly ever encountered anyone but Gay men. If Uncle Sam hadn't entrenched my Gay Rights outlook, this period certainly did. It was obvious there were too many of us to subdue. Village Life An average Village day consisted of commuting to work via Subway, returning home and changing into our street uniform: Levi's 501s, flannel shirt, etc. We already had the short haircuts ­ a reaction to all those long-hairs of the 60's. One could visit the Stonewall or wander around Sheridan Square. Entertainment was cheap because one could just go out for a walk and be completely dazzled by street drama. Feminism was coming on strong as shown by this stenciled motto on the step-off for each Village pedestrian crosswalk: "Castrate Rapists." Of course the answer was very shortly added: "Rape Castrators." Latin Period The moving drama was exemplified by Rollarena and her magic wand. I went through my "Latin Period" with a boyfriend from Colombia. He was part of a large exodus from South America of Gay men to New York City, a longer journey than mine from the depths of the Midwest. The Pleasure Chest opened near my apartment, a third-floor walk-up owned by an Oklahoma Gay man and his Argentine partner. It was often fun to hear Pleasure Chest employe stories of customers walking in the door and fainting upon seeing the merchandise offered. Book Publishing My first job in New York was in book publishing and thus I was around for the first few Gay-positive books published in the early 70's by St. Martin's Press. I was involved in the production of an early book, Society and the Healthy Homosexual by George Weinberg (now out of print), where I first encountered the word homophobia and thus could put a name on my Military Experience. I started my work life as a completely OUT Gay man and have never regretted it. Of course, I always thought my lilt was impossible to hide, so being out was the only sensible alternative.

Looking out the window of my Greenwich Village apartment on Perry Street just east of Bleeker Street. Rollarena was part of Village street life as s/he skated between autos tapping those who objected with her wand. The trees in Greenwich Village grow this large when you rub 'em.

Updated 1-5-2002

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