1976 4 of 8
DIARY 10941
WEDNESDAY, MAY 19. I wake at 7, feeling surprisingly good, but Dennis doesn't want to do anything (even SHAVE, hoping he'll wake and feel like having sex early, but no soap), and when I ask him later he says that he PREFERS being jolted awake by the alarm. Pity. I shut the alarm off and whisper in his ear that it's 7:30, but that's not his thing. We cuddle, then I get out of bed at 7:40 and get out the cereal for breakfast, but we can't manage to get it together until 8:30, and by that time it's obvious that he won't be at work at 9, since he has to shuttle across. Dynamite guy with protruding wrinkled crotch in khaki pants, est-looking, lovely. Wink goodbye on the subway platform at 8:50 and get to work at 9, and during today I discover that the sentences HAVE to be 18 words or shorter on the shorthand tests, so I have to go BACK and correct the ones I'd marked already, a real chore, and by the end of the afternoon I'm starting to chew on my fingernail-sides and inside my cheeks. But leave at 12:10 to walk down to Ron Greenburg, passing the Gotham Bookshop on 47th, and get to the place at 12:30 for an interesting run-through with Tony Hernandez (see DIARY 10944), and out at 1:30 to walk back up, eat a cream cheese sandwich and peach pie at Chock Fullonuts, then spend about an HOUR in the Gotham looking through the fiction and wishing I had my list with me. Back to work about 3, do some proofreading of the final versions, marking all the places where Lauren's changes produced from 7 to 17 consecutive monosyllables in the typing tests, and then leave at 5:15 to rush home for a "Star Trek" repeat of Gideon, and I get so involved in the "Star Trek" plots that I type them (see DIARY 10942-3), which takes a long time, and then I get into the other typing, stopping to have hash in the middle, talk to Dennis and Pope on the phone for a LONG time, and finish typing 9 pages by 11 pm, when I turn on "Mary Hartman" for the first time in ages, and Tom leaves her. Then fuss around with things to take to work tomorrow, not even feeling sorry for Dennis not being here because I'm just a FEW pages away from being caught up with the typing at LAST (the first time since about March 24, over 8 weeks ago!), and smoke a few puffs of a pipe before going to bed at 11:55, having warmed up the bed with an ELECTRIC BLANKET because it was 39° this morning, Dennis had to borrow my coat, and I was glad it was cold, since I wore my blazer to meet Tony Hernandez. SLEEP AT MIDNIGHT.
DIARY 10946
THURSDAY, MAY 20. Wake at 7, feeling great, shut alarm off before it rings, up at 7:30, wash face, eat cereal, water plants, take tan pants to sew seam and blue pants from Don to shorten for a suit (for Thursday??), to work at 9, continue with re-doing the poor shorthand tests, then going into new stuff. Proofread, phone Arnie, Michael, Irish Pavilion (no binox turned in), no time for Don or Dennis (who was working at another office anyway, and had his first SINGING lesson with his new teacher this evening). Out for lunch at 2 when I'm hung up on "$11,000 to $14,000" [and forgot that LAST evening Lauren said that if I wanted to do the manuscript AND clicking for the letters, I could have it between September and December for about $2,000!!], eat at Smokehouse, a VERY large "Smoker" with chopped liver, pastrami, lettuce and tomato for $3.18! Then get to Gotham Bookshop for an ORGY of buying, $33.53 worth of 7 books from list and 2 crossed off, putting me below 100 (98) for FIRST time since the list was started! Feel GREAT! Back to work about 3:30, do proofing of the shorthand galleys, chat with Lauren who still hasn't bought my McGraw-Hill books, so TOMORROW I get a stack of them, ALL the ones I can get from downstairs to make my list as SMALL as possible! Home at the dot of 6 to find a repeat on "Star Trek," leave word with Don who called saying he wants to go on Saturday, then Dennis calls and says OK to Diane Boardman tomorrow, call BobG to tell him, then type this as third page (with lots of continuations finished from yesterday, where I insisted that DIARY 10938 was DONE yesterday when it wasn't) of the night). Then check the pages STILL to do and find I'd forgotten on May 10 to type a page for "Thunder and Roses" (see DIARY 10947), have a note about wanting to DO after TM (see DIARY 10948), and a page of scribbled stoned notes from long ago about the Superscientist (see DIARY 10949), and that FINISHES ME UP TO DATE, then, and now it's 8:40! Continue typing until I FINALLY CATCH UP with 6 pages, then have dinner with the hash at 9:30, disappointed that Dennis hasn't called. Have time to wash dishes, incorporate reel 75 into my tape collection, and clear off the top of my desk completely by 11:30, not bothering to watch "Mary Hartman," and I smoke and get to sleep AGAIN at midnight, feeling rested for the first time in ages.
DIARY 10950
FRIDAY, MAY 21. Wake at 7, up at 7:15 because I feel so good, and move the books around on shelves until the empty shelf, created by my putting paperbacks in the wire rack, is taken by little spaces at the end of each fiction shelf, and two whole shelves in the WOODEN bookcases are taken with a total of 70 books to read, breaking my previous record of 69. After I buy books from McGraw-Hill today, I'll make a list of the greatest stack ever, about 75 books. Shower, eat cereal, water plants for weekend, and leave at 8:55, intending to stop off and get my glasses fixed at Joralemon. Type this, the only page of DIARY that I type until 6/1, again falling behind, but not as badly as before. Get my glasses adjusted and get to work around 9:30 and work through until 5:30, taking an hour off for lunch. Howard Johnson's had NO discount tickets to Great Adventure and I looked for a new place and settled for a good Canton Village for a FULL meal for $3. Dennis still doesn't answer his phone, so I subway up and when he's not home, sit on the stoop waiting for him, and he finally gets back about 6:15, and we sit around the table and talk as I clean the strawberries for dessert and the green beans for vegetable, and he cuts up olives and nuts for the beef over noodles, but he first spills the olives and then the nuts all over the place, and it's only THEN that we smoke, Bob rolling his eyes and having none of it, and we were also drinking orange juice and vodka and Triple Sec for a pleasant evening. Out to catch the bus up after Bob refuses to walk, and get to Riverside Church Theater to find it quite empty for the performances of Boardman, Elliot, and Small, but when it starts it's so good I hardly believe my stoned eyes until the small group erupts into shouts and whistles of approval, and the evening is a GREAT success (see DIARY 10951). Talk to Murray Louis, too (see DIARY 10952). Out about 10:30, totally blown away by the excellence of the dancing, and walk down Broadway to get some ice cream cones, and then BobG leaves to subway to some bar at the 110th Street station, buy chicken for tomorrow's picnic, and we continue down to Dennis's to smoke some more, delight about the evening some more, and I look through his New Yorker to find an interesting article about Gandhi that I ask him to keep, cook chicken to 1 while I'm UP with chicken for HOURS, and then we're cuddling in bed and have great sex until we fall asleep about 3.
DIARY 10953
SATURDAY, MAY 22. We'd set the alarm for 10, but we woke at 9:30 and shut it off before it went off, and then we necked for a bit, came quickly with our own hands, and then I called Don about 10:30, and he was still willing to get to Great Adventure today, so I cleaned some grass of Dennis's, since Don said he had none, and last night I rolled a joint with my own roller, bought at a head shop on the way home last night, and it didn't work well. Over to his place about 11:15, fuss around getting things done, get some fruit and brie and pita bread to add to our great lunch, which I'd spent the whole morning cutting up the last of Dennis's bread and toasting for the cheese sandwiches, and we leave about 11:45 to find that he has a FLAT. The guy in the garage changes it, then we drive up to Broadway and 84th to look for a tire place, then down to somewhere on the West Side Highway for gas and someone to fix the old tire, quickly done, and we're on our way about 12:45. Talk nicely in the car, time passing quickly, and we start smoking two of the joints to get us going for the afternoon. Don later said that HIS grass was up, but Dennis's was down, so he was slow and quiet for the rest of the day. The directions are clear, there are no Howard Johnsons for discounts, and we get there about 2, gratified to find that there is NO line waiting to get into the park, and the safari is just nicely moving with cars and traffic. The day is almost perfect (see DIARY 10954), and we spend two hours in the safari, petting goats, seeing ostriches peck the windows, watching camels stop our car, lick each other's urine, scratch their necks on the rear-view mirror of a car across the way; gazing across at monkeys, lions, tigers, bears, zebras, ostriches, elephants, gnus, elks, okapis, hartebeests, buffalo crossing the road, and the cars shouting at us to keep moving. Off away from the baboons because of his vinyl roof and the $25,000 in damage so far this year, and out about 4, having spent a GOOD two hours there. Park in the FAR distance, go into the woods for a picnic, back to find that the Great Arena is closed for the day, and start waiting on lines. Don gets cold and I get chilled giving him my coat. We leave about 11:30, back by 12:30, leave his car as he drops us off, Dennis sleeping in the back, and we're up to cuddle and have good sex and get to sleep about 3 am again.
DIARY 10955
SUNDAY, MAY 23. Wake about 10 and we're just starting to neck when some friend calls at 10:15. Then we get great sex over and are cuddling when his folks call about 11:30, then Dana calls about 12, saying he'll pick us up at 1:30, and we're showered and shaved and eating when he buzzes downstairs at 1:15. So he waits! We're down at 1:30 and they've picked up the tickets, so we find a place to park and walk through Riverside Park. Maybe the grass is going to seed, because I start sneezing and sneezing and snuffling and coughing without letup this afternoon. Then into "Follies" at 2, and it's not a bad performance (see DIARY 10956) and out about 4:30 to wander up and down looking for some place to eat that doesn't offend Dana's nose with the odor of cat. Frank, or whoever, IS as unpleasant as Dennis said he is, and we walk at widely varying speeds while Dennis and Dana try to talk for one of their few times in months. Finally we're down to the Library for dinner, and I get a bacon burger and hot pecan pie for all of $5, running my money down quite low, and I'm not very happy with the feeling of tiredness and depression and irritation that I'm getting. Back to Dennis's to smoke a bit and read the Times and work the puzzle, but get only partway through the crossword by 7 and I just don't FEEL good, sneezing and tired, so I lay down to take a nap while he does things around the apartment and talks on the phone, and I'm up about 10 to have some dinner of the warmed-over stuff that we had last night, even better than before, and again we smoke and I can get around the cold enough to have sex. He seems to be getting up more and more, recently, and having more fun with his own body under my eyes. Sometime in here I made a big thing about his coming on my face, and for a few times my chin and cheeks were a taut mask of dried come until I got up and washed it. We less often go into multiple orgasms anymore; maybe once a week one or the other of us will be so excited by what we've been doing that we'll jerk ourselves off for a second time, but usually it's just once in the evening (and maybe 1/4 the time not even then, only one of us) and then in the morning usually both of us will come to start on our day. Bed fairly early, since I'm not feeling so great and we BOTH work tomorrow.
DIARY 10957
MONDAY, MAY 24. Up with the alarm at 8, quick sex and out without breakfast to get to work at 9:30 to find Lauren at the dentist's, so I say I got there at 9. Work till 2, get around to Chock Full because it's so cheap and so good, and then work 2:30 to 5:30, and get home at 6 to take off Dennis's pink shirt that I had to borrow because my blue one was totally unwearable after the weekend. Watch "Lights of Zetar" again on "Star Trek," and then went over to Arnold's to borrow his binoculars for the ballet tomorrow, and talk about various things, eat some of his mousse, and watch the start of "Andromeda Strain," not really remembering much about the colors of the start of the film, and getting into the stern mechanicalness of it before I leave his place at 9:30. Then switch to "Hobson's Choice" because of his recommendation, taking notes on the TV programs that I want to watch this week from his TV Guide, surprised to find that all the "Star Trek" plots are repeated time after time for those who want to watch, and he hadn't gotten the Sunday Times because of the deliverer's strike over the weekend. In fact, we'd gotten only the inner sections on Saturday night, then I picked up the outer, free, on Monday morning when I was going to work, and read them when I got home. "Hobson's Choice" showed a boozing Charles Laughton with the splendid older daughter of Brenda deBanzie who takes up with his star boot maker, played to perfection by John Mills, who finally gets enough gumption to insist that it be Mossup and Hobson as the finally combined shops, and I called Arnie the next day to thank him for it. Again felt bad to have to be going to bed without Dennis, but I smoked a bit at midnight and got to bed earlier than ever before. I'm having so much sex that there's just NO debate at all now whether I want to come when I go to bed alone: I do that so seldom, after so much sex, that I just don't FEEL like it, in fact feeling like the vacation is good for my cock after all the hard use I give it to get it to come after the straining and playtime with Dennis in the mornings and evenings. Got messages that I tried to call, but the best talk with Murray Louis was this evening, letting me look forward to work with HIM.
DIARY 10958
TUESDAY, MAY 25. Have to water John's and my plants, and get involved looking at his Dance Magazine with EVERYONE advertising in it for its yearly catalog, so I get to work late at 9:15. Chock Full lunch between 2:15 and 2:45 as usual, and then leave at 4:45 because I'm coughing, don't feel very industrious, and want to get my great load of books home that Lauren bought for me yesterday, including two hardcover Nabokov's for half price with her discount. Check on the "Star Trek" to find the title of something that I'd seen but hadn't noted down before, with the place-sending library, and then get out about 7 to wait outside the Met for agonized minutes before Dennis shows up just about a minute before 8. He says something about my being late, and I fumed about not knowing what to do with the $12 ticket, and he said he was sorry, and then asked, "Aside from being pissed with me, how ARE you?" Up to our seats to a surprisingly empty house, looking as if only the subscribers were there, and then I kept looking at the program to see if this was the first performances of these ballets: everything looked so sketchy that it didn't seem it COULD be the Royal Danish Ballet that had been so good 10 years ago (see DIARY 10959). "The Lesson" and "Carmen" over, I told Dennis he'd be able to expect a different company in "Etudes," but it was the same one, darn it. We'd raced out at the first intermission to buy cough drops since he had only a few left and we were both coughing, me with a strangled sound when I tried too hard to hold back on it. Then I asked if he wanted company when it was over, and he grinned and said yes, so we went up to his place, knowing that I'd have to be home HERE to get my suit on for the presentation Thursday to NBC. Undress immediately, feeling tacky from the humid weather, and neck and neck and neck before we smoke, and then neck even more afterward. We start doing it on the floor, leading us both to wonder what the woman downstairs might be thinking, and then graduate to the bed for a great session that has him gurgling deep in his throat over the distances I shoot my come. Still have no trouble getting to sleep in his impossibly small bed because I'm so exhausted after our sex each night.
DIARY 10960
WEDNESDAY, MAY 26. Alarm goes at 7:30 and we BOTH have to be up, since Dennis is supposed to be at school at 8:30. It doesn't seem that he'll make it, since he leaves at 8:15, and I get to work at 8:45, which is good, since I have to leave at 12:15 to get to Ron Greenburg at 12:30 for one last rehearsal session for the presentation tomorrow (see DIARY 10961), and then stop off at Chock Full for lunch, and I forgot that ONE of these days I replied to the message from Matthew Monica at Gotham that he had a copy of John Updike's "Verse," and I phoned him at the bookshop on Monday to say that I wanted it and probably on Tuesday went in to get it from him "under the counter" from his "own collection" with "about $2 profit, so I'm not trying to rip you off" and that he might be able to get more books for me. He'd found a Silverberg that I didn't want, talked about his commitment to a poet who was influenced by Pound, and tried to impress me with his expertise. Back to work from 2:15 to 5:15, talking to Lauren, and then dash down to Town Hall to stand around until almost 5:45 until Dennis comes running up, late again, and we're down to the side of the second row to see Chris Conner at the last Interlude. She's not very gripping (see DIARY 10962), and we get out even before 6:45 to walk across to Grand Central to subway up to Marymount. BobG had called about dinner, but I didn't see how we could plan anything in the short time between the two performances and he hung up in a huff. BUT, since I was hungry, we dropped in on the dance, added Bob to our reservation list, and then went over to Second Avenue to pass a half-price bookshop where I picked up FOUR great things: "When Worlds Collide," a second copy of "The Status Civilization," "The Mote in God's Eye," and a NEW short story by Sturgeon WITH a chronological list of his stories and novels, and felt just GREAT walking back to the theater: Dennis by my side, loved and loving; pizza in my stomach; books in my hand; performances down and to go---I just felt GREAT. But then Rudy Perez gives a LOUSY performance (see DIARY 10963) and lets us out at 10 feeling awful, we walk down to 68th to take the subway, and then Dennis demands a drink, so we walk down to Bloomingdale's where he gets a soda underground, then we're to the BMT for a ride here for a large pipeful, the rest of the pork butt, and watermelon, and great sex.
DIARY 10964
THURSDAY, MAY 27. Again we can't get going: I shut the alarm off at 7:30 and we get into sex so solidly that I'm not into work until 9:30, wearing the tan trousers that I just got back from the tailor's, along with the lengthened trousers of the suit that Don gave me before, and my jacket for the presentation of "Clockwatchers" to NBC, which I get to at 11:15 (see DIARY 10965). Out at 1:30, get over to ACC to pick up more chapters of Microbiology from Joanne (whose face I can NEVER remember), get the message that Arnold isn't going to be meeting me for lunch, so I'm down to the Chock Full on 41st for a Big Chock, then back to the office at 2, to work only until 4:30, since I'm getting pretty tired of what I'm doing, editing letters to shorthand transcription speeds of 60, 80, 100, 120, and 140 wpm, from September to June, and Lauren says I can have the job of the WHOLE thing in January, for next year, if I want it, which I probably will. Back home to watch "The Way to Eden" on "Star Trek," having forgotten that the searchers die of poisoned fruit when they get there, type two pages of Sturgeon's stories from the lovely book I bought yesterday (see DIARY 10970), and then talk on the phone to a few people and spend the rest of the evening watching TV: from 8 to 9:30 is a horrible made-for-TV movie called "Beyond the Bermuda Triangle" with an aging Fred MacMurray vanishing off a ship off the coast of Bimini when his fiancée "calls" to him from the triangle and he "goes through the door" to her. Then get stuck watching "The Pursuit of Happiness," in which most people, from literal corner-to-corner of the country with David Brinkley, SAY they're happy while their faces show that they're NOT happy, and the rich all say that it has nothing to do with money, which is about the only thing the people agree with. That's from 9:30 to 11, then I watch "Mary Hartman" which is REALLY getting gay, except Vivian Blaine is trying to marry her son off to MH, and then watch "The Seven Faces of Dr. Lao" with Tony Randall as Lao, Yeti, Snake, Medusa, Prophet, Pan-transformed-into-sexy-John-Ericson, and one I don't remember, PLUS himself as normal sitting in the audience that sees clips from Pal's 1961 "Atlantis" in this 1964 film. This goes until almost 2, and I curse myself for watching TV ALL evening, smoke a bit, and get to sleep just past 2, knowing I'll curse the alarm set for 7:30 in the AM.
DIARY 10966
FRIDAY, MAY 28. Up weary at 7:30, but delighted that it's my last day at work. Water John's and my plants for the last time before he comes back and get to work again at 9:30. Lauren had stayed at work until 3 am doing all but the last month, and I finished up that by about 4, after taking one last lunch at Chock Full, maybe this time (though I think it was before) having soup AND a sandwich AND a dessert. Then type up two bills for a total of $720 for 96 hours in three weeks, and then sit around talking with Lauren about her step-brother, who was gay and president of Creative Playthings, then was fired after two years at his $70,000/year job at 33, after which he stayed in Europe for a couple of years, spent his year's severance pay, and came back to fall madly in love with a WOMAN, which caused his "vicious" gay friends in the highest economic status to be angry with him and drop him as a traitor. Sounded ugly, and I told her so. Left about 5, when I'd put in the bill for---no, started phoning BobG and Fred and Rolf and Art Ostrin and Guy to chat with them on the phone until 6:15, when I figured it was time to get walking to the Olympia, but I didn't leave enough time so I grabbed a slow-moving bus saying 178th and Broadway, at 66th, that promptly turned down 72nd toward Riverside; he gave me a transfer when I demanded angrily why the Broadway bus didn't go up Broadway, but I didn't have time for anything other than the subway, so I spent $1 on a trip that I'd decided to save money on and WALK! Long line for "Taxi Driver," but they don't start until 7:05, when we're into the second row, and we can't get into his character, no idea WHY he's like he is, but the bloodbath at the end is skillfully done and it's a COMEDY since it ends happily for HIM: he wanted to "do something" and he DID by killing three guys and being hailed as a hero, except pity the poor girl, back in Pittsburgh, a fresh tragedy. Out at 9, not bothering to watch "Shampoo" again, and then walk down to Dennis's for something to eat, including watermelon, I think, and we talk and cuddle and undress and smoke and roll around on the bed and have a great time until I get out my watch on the shelf and we get to sleep about 2 am.
DIARY 10967
SATURDAY, MAY 29. Up luxuriously late at 9:30, have great leisurely sex until about 11:30, and then guiltily call Don to find that no one's answering his phone except the service. Dennis is going somewhere and says I can stay there, but I've not brought his key along this time, so I can't, though I don't tell him that, so we leave about 12:30. Bring a large bag of my belongings home. I call Don's service at 1 to get calls shifted here, and prepare for another wonderful day watching TV when Don calls at 1:30 to say he's very sick, doctor came at 6 am and knocked him out until now, when he just HAD to call me. I'm watching "Die Fledermaus" in a luxuriant color version on TV from 2 to 3:30, and then he starts to insist that I come with him to the "fat Sandy's" for a barbecue, since he wants to get out but doesn't want to go alone. I say I'll be there at four, but I have to water both our plants and don't leave until 3:55, so I don't get there until 4:25, and then shave while he's on the phone, shower while he shaves, and we leave about 5:30 after he calls to say we'll be late, telling me in the car that the doctor had called, and when he said he was going out with someone who could drive, and whom he could trust, the doctor did say that it was OK. It seems now that he has SKIN cancer with about two years, rather than 6 months, to live, but the chemotherapy and other medicines are causing him to lose his memory, his coordination, and his energy. Ride across the Whitestone Bridge to the quadruplex part of the Bronx, 209th Street, and meet Bill and Harvey, overweight lovers, of whom Harvey keeps looking at me, and two LOVELY daughters Pamela and Randy who love their parents very much, and we drink bloody marys, have artichokes and franks as an appetizer, then a meal of Italian sausage over noodles with wine and sweet corn, then a dessert of strawberries and peaches, lovely cookies, and a chocolate cake, after a Sambuco flamed with coffee beans on top. Great evening, talking about various people's stay in jail, various gay couples, businesses, their daughter's talents, and Mary Hartman. Leave at 11:30 and get back around 12:30, call Dennis, who's finally back, and I'm over there with Don's large umbrella for smoke, great sex far into the luxuriant morning.
DIARY 10968
SUNDAY, MAY 30. Wake early, have great sex, finished in time for Dennis's parents to call, then sit around reading the Times and doing the puzzles and eating breakfast and necking until 4, when he leaves to see "Leadbelly" with Donna, and I call Don to return my umbrella, then sit around and talk until 6, when I want to watch "Space 1999," and then some friends from the party call and come up, so I'm into the bedroom to watch a rather boring thing in which a ravaged spaceship can continue only if the 14 elite cooperate with the hundreds of mutants to fly the ship. Then a snatch to see that I've seen the Animation Festival, and watch Cousteau's following of the sea lobster, except they don't find out when, where, and why they migrate. Leave at 8 over the protests of everyone who want me to come to dinner with them, but I just want to leave, after getting a large hug from Don, who thanks me entirely too much, and get home at 8:30 to finish the double crostic from LAST week, for which I had the solution THIS week, in case it got rough, and then Dennis called to say that he would be coming over immediately, and I don't even have time to shower, only to wash dishes, so I say we'll shower together, but it really doesn't work: neither of us wants to get our hair wet, he's concerned about his contacts, and it's not really that much fun---but it IS a first. Get to smoking my pipe again, noting that we do smoke lots from it because the smoke is cooled so much, and it seems we get particularly stoned when we smoke here. I sort of want to get into slides, but Dennis is into my body and into his, so we just get out the poppers and inhale away, getting to unlimited areas of total hardness for both of us, and then after I come with unparalleled intensity, we relax around a bit and then HE comes with unrivaled determination, so we're cuddling for the night about 2, again, happy to be together, pleased that the jets have stopped flying over in their overcast pattern for Kennedy, that the dogs have stopped barking and the radios in the building have been turned off, and I never think of putting in earplugs when I'm sleeping with Dennis: we just drop off instantly because of the severe bodily strain of the incredible orgasms we induce in each other.
DIARY 10969
MONDAY, MAY 31. Wake at 9, sorry that I hadn't called Art on Saturday to tell him we won't be coming up, when Art calls at 9:15 to say that it looks to be a lousy rainy day up there and they're coming back this evening. That solves problem 1! Then we start cuddling and sexing and I get the poppers and then eventually even a PIPE so that we can enjoy each other's body to the fullest [and I read in HIS diary that when he wants raw sex, I give him raw sex; when he wants affection, I give him that; etc---SUCH a sweet person!], and finally get out of bed at 12:15 or so, when I put on "Die Fledermaus" to listen to the rousing music, which is JUST where I shut it off on Saturday, and then I'd been worrying about what to have for breakfast, hoping he'll accept lunch, when he says that he'd heard I'd had PANCAKES! I don't but I borrow buckwheat flour from John (who shakes it and says the other had WORMS in it!) and we start lunch-making at 1, finishing about 2 full to the gills with the dark pancakes, and then I call Pope about 3 to ask about a walk, but Dennis has his singing class at 6, but wants to get home before that, so he leaves about 4, and I'm left to record the Rzewski music so I can take the records back to the library tomorrow, cleaning up the place a bit in the meantime, and there's just TOO much that has to be done!! And I can't even get into doing it, so I add to the special pages typed on 5/27, the Sturgeon books (see DIARY 10970-10971), two pages of the books that I have to read (see DIARY 10972-10973), with associated statistics that delight me no end. Then I settle down (this was actually before) to read "Very Special People" which I'd unpacked from the shopping bag of my stuff that I brought back from Dennis's on Saturday (books he'd been throwing out, articles I'd been saving, my heavy coat that I lent him about a month ago, and my very dirty blue shirt), and then I can't stop reading, so I read the "Book of Breathing" while finishing up the Spam for dinner, and then finish the last 30 pages that I had to read in "Psychosynthesis," not that great a book, and then about 11:45 I start the "Pleasure Chest Catalog," getting a call from Dennis at 12:15 that I don't know how to handle when he wants to hug me, and all I can do is embarrassedly say "Yap," and mark four books read today on DIARY 10973 and smoke some and get to bed at 1, almost needing all the blankets in the unusual cool of the evening.
DIARY 10974
TUESDAY, JUNE 1. Up about 9:30, obviously tired, and finish reading "The Yage Letters" before meditating and exercising for the first time in weeks, since I went to McGraw-Hill. Then have breakfast of cereal at about 11:30, and phone Arnie and Pope to arrange to go over there for errands, then settle down to catching up with the typing, getting through 12 pages, about half of it, before leaving at 4 to return the records to the library and pick up another one, a new album by George Harrison (since I can only take out one at a time), and I also got my NYPL library card in the mail, so I can get "Drumming" from the Lincoln Center library. To Pope's to pick up a copy of "est: Making Life Work" and then to Arnie's to pick up binoculars for the play tonight, and then get home quickly at 5 before the threatening sky opens with lightning, thunder, and rain. I take a shower and wash my hair, hoping it'll dry before getting out to meet Dennis at 6:35 at Beggar's Banquet for a pretty lousy hi-protein salad that turns into globs of cottage cheese MIXED with yogurt and nuts and seeds, over lettuce, and he has a beef stew that he says is good, but it looks too expensive for what it is. At last get hold of Don, who's not feeling well, so I can sell the ticket to "Virginia Woolf" when we get there. Feeling good together, even after I confess to my reticence about talking on the phone with him last night, and we get to the Music Box at 7:45 to sell the ticket for $4 to a guy who'd been waiting on the TKTS line when they were just sold out, and the play is, on the whole, very good (see DIARY 10975). Out at 10:30 in the rain to the subway up to his place, and he assumes the supermarket will be closed and buys his eggs and bread at a deli and then passes the Big Apple still open at 11:15. To his place to undress and de-perspire before putting on the fan to cool off the room from its rooftop humidity, and we smoke and work on his cock for a LONG time, getting it RIGHT to the point of coming a NUMBER of times, and then finally he jerks it off to BOUTS of creamy white come, and we get to sleep about 2, knowing that he has the alarm set at 7 so that he can relax and get out of bed at a relaxed pace in the morning to get to school at 8:30.
DIARY 10976
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 2. The alarm rings, we barely have time to cuddle a bit, and it seems to be 7:50, so the alarm might have gone off wrong. He fries us some eggs anyway while making hamburger sandwiches for his lunch, and we get out about 8:45, giving me time to catch the worst of the downtown subway crush. Home determined to do SOMETHING, but what I do is sit down and read "est: Making Life Work" by Robert A. Hargrove (see DIARY 10977), which isn't that interesting and leads me to the idea that I want to talk to Pope about my having gotten and now LOST "it." This takes me up to lunch at about 3, finishing just as Dennis calls from school and we decide to go to the 2nd Century Dancers tonight, so I call BobG, who doesn't want to take the trouble to go, and talk to Art about getting up to the country, but it doesn't look like it'll be soon. Also BobR called yesterday and we arranged to have "three-handed poker" next Tuesday, which should be FUN. Then get to typing 9 pages to catch up with the diary, only after getting a call from Joan Lindner saying that the book has to be due on June 30th, and I say then I have to get the total pages by June 9, and say that "they" can call me if they want verification of anything. Also during the day I harvested Michael's grass and spent hours killing the white flies, tens of thousands of them, hoping to keep them away from the batch in the kitchen and get rid of them totally now, but my windows are a total mess. Then watch "Star Trek" to see something I'd seen before, and shave and shower and get out at 6:40 to subway back to Borough Hall and forward to Marymount at 7:20 to see Dennis dejectedly sitting outside: it's a benefit with $7 tickets. I frown, go inside innocently with my two TDF, and figure it might be lost when he says "our company" is benefiting from tonight, but I hang around asking questions and looking spaced out, and he finally says "If there are tickets left, I'll let you in," and then I look at my watch to find it's 7:29, say I'll wait, and THEN he gives us two in the "first row" (row C, since they hardly ever use A and B) for $1 each. Dennis crows "How did you DO that?" and I feel great, though the company is pretty poor (see DIARY 10978). Out at 9:40, walk up Third to find FOUR copies of Updike's "Verse" at list price, bus across to Dennis's, shop for corned beef for my dinner, make it, have a drink, smoke, and get into his cock nicely enough for him to come very strongly and satisfactorily, but I'm too tired, sleep at 2 am.
DIARY 10979
THURSDAY, JUNE 3. We wake with sunlight in the room at 6:50, cuddle a bit and he's so hard so fast that we jerk each other off nicely before arising at 7:40. He makes another of his fabulous classical omelets and we leave at 8:35, walking him up to 96th Street for the bus, I'm into the subway to continue reading "Fifth Business" and get in to crush more white flies, thousands of them, get a call from Don, and type these four pages to get TOTALLY up to date by 10:50 am! Phone Pope, who's with a client, to say that I want to bring back "est," and then Arnie to return binoculars, but he says I can keep them until ABT on Wednesday, but he's willing to see "Seven Beauties" again with me at 3:55 this afternoon. Talk to Michael about more TDF, call BobG and tell him about our dance program last night, and then there's nothing left but to get rid of the stack of stuff on my desk. Get 8 pieces of mail ready by the time I have lunch about 2, and then over to Pope's about 3:30 to return the book, having shaved to look neat and gone back to kill more white flies, finding new coveys of them under specific avocado leaves, and read the Time article on est, simple and direct, even to the "I'm glad you got nothing, because there's nothing to get." Over to the movie at 3:55, and it's not as good as the reviews, but Gianninni does a fabulous job looking ugly and the sisters are really a riot, and the crowding and cold of the concentration camp is well done. Out at 6 and see which "Star Trek" is being repeated, then get to 5 MORE pieces of mail and a note to Mom with $20 for her birthday, and THAT all feels good to drop into the mailbox on my way to est. The Body #5 is one of the worst (see DIARY 10980), and out at 10:55 to browse through the newly arranged Bookmasters, then BMT home to have a souvlaki dinner for $3 because I haven't a THING in the house, and am discouraged to find that the liquor store is closed at 11:40, so I can't pick up a bottle of Gallo Rhinegarten to perk up my supply. Home to shit and read more of the fascinating "Fifth Business," then at 12 watch "The Tenth Victim," and I CAN'T recall that I saw ANY of it before!!! Not really GOOD, with Andress killing Mastroianni, who crawls away because of blanks, M killing A, who's wearing armor, and then both getting married on the plane. So tired when it's over at 2 that I get to bed WITHOUT smoking, chilly under the non-electric blankets, and sleep immediately.
DIARY 10983
FRIDAY, JUNE 4. Wake at 8, drowsy, dream recorded on DIARY 10981, then up at last at 10:15 to start killing white flies (see DIARY 10982). Back and forth between kitchen and living room, and then settle down to type four pages (counting DIARY 10980, which I haven't done YET, since I wanted to get other things done before recording the notes from est), and get to HERE at 1:30 pm! Finish reading "Fifth Business" to get it out of the way, and decide to start on "My Life as a Man" next, for no good reason except that it's there. Keep after white flies, then decide I have to get out to the bank, so I THERE read all but the last few pages of "Fifth Business," get cash, look through the used bookshop to find a copy of "After Worlds Collide" which is the same edition as my new copy of "When Worlds Collide," so I have a set! Buy $17.38 in groceries, the most in ages, and pile all things away, and Dennis calls to make plans for the play tonight, and I shower and shave and get ready to go, not having done ANYTHING of note today, and just before I leave I get a call from Fred wanting liquid, but I'm leaving and he's still in bed, and from Rolf wanting to absorb entertainment, but he's not interested in jazz. Get down to E 4th Street early so I'm in to check out the National Book Store again, finding nothing, and buy two tickets that Dennis had reserved for "The Architect and the Emperor of Assyria" at LaMama. Look around the place and then down to meet him JUST as he comes into the doorway, and we're in line and in for "balcony" seats for the production, which is interesting (see DIARY 10984), but when there's a break at 8:40 we're out and walk uptown, meeting Wade on the way and not being able to suggest a restaurant, and buy blackberry brandy and Chablis in a carafe as house gifts, and up to 15th for a going party at Andrea's. I talk to Antoinette, French; Met, Egyptian; Imazumi, Japanese; Nadia and Wilma, Italian; and Jim Little (cute) and John Jackson, or some black musician, American. The paella is good, there's lots of drink and lots to talk about and Aikido to demonstrate and names to drop and books to look at and stuffed fruit to ogle, and we finally sense Andrea falling asleep after I have my THIRD bowl of melon, cantaloupe, and ice cream with blackberry brandy, and we subway to Dennis's, having sex and probably getting to bed about 4, since we left there about 3:10 am.
DIARY 10985
SATURDAY, JUNE 5. Wake about 10, have glorious sex without even searching for the poppers, and then doze for a bit and up again, this time to smoke some grass, and the sex goes on and on, loving and kissing and touching and liking it, until finally we get up and it's 4 pm! His message service has been ringing and ringing, and he talks to Richard and I talk to Don before we have breakfast of omelets, rice, and frozen corn at 5:30, just in time at the end for me to check with "Star Trek" and come up with a NEW one in the series, 67 out of 79 now seen (though what ABOUT the ones that seem to be cut from two?), "The Man Trap," which I add to my list, and it's not quite as exciting on Dennis's colorless set. Then we look at the schedule for the evening and decide to get to the Jazz Open House at Jazzmania at 9, and since we both decide we don't want Don, we call him and say that we got involved in sex again (and he says he's very envious) and we're not going. Andrea says she may meet us there, as does Richard, who DOES, but when we finally get there at 9, we find that it's JUST full-up, so we're told to detour down to the Ladies' Fort on Bond Street, so we walk down there, still rather stoned from the smoking we did before we left, and we're both feeling much too good to worry about it. It's downstairs, quite small, and has about six couples sprawled on the floor. John Lee Wilson and Bond Street are performing, and the volume is up much too high so that he's a screamer rather then a singer, and when the soloists start up, they're not terribly distinguished. Because it isn't that good, I rapidly become tired and sit there nodding, wondering what I'm doing there, and then we get out about 11:15 and walk up Broadway to the BMT station and ride back to my place, getting a Times and coming back here for some hamburger and watermelon for a very late dinner, and then we smoke some of the grass in the pipe and get very stoned, have sex, possibly without either of us coming, but it feels very good to be together, and he even agrees with me that the evening of jazz wasn't the most interesting. He calls Richard to tell him to come here for breakfast in the morning, and we get to bed about 12:15, tired and happy.
DIARY 10986
SUNDAY, JUNE 6. Wake about 9 and have more sex, both shooting this time, and Richard calls to say he'll be coming by subway, and we're up JUST about to go down and see where he is, and he rings my UPPER bell, saying that he leaned on it downstairs and it didn't work, and someone else let him into the lobby. I put on bacon to broil, getting grease all over the floor, and make up two batches of scrambled eggs for the three of us, and then end up with some more watermelon, and we've also been drinking screwdrivers, so it's a lively group. He's going back to "Belle of Amherst" at 3, so he leaves at 2, relieving the pressure in the too-crowded kitchen with the three of us in it. Then Dennis and I caress some more and he says that we should have about an hour with the newspaper and then leave for the jazz festival, so I read some of the articles in the Magazine, he looks at the ads, Richard has shown us the GREAT nude-man drawing for Saks for Father's Day, and we kiss and leave at 5 for Sunrise Studio at Second and St. Marks, for Intestinal Skylark, and we pay our $3 at 5:30 and they're just about to start a set, but it turns out to be VERY strange (see DIARY 10987) with Gloria Tropp being the best part of it by far, and Lew and Moe being the WORST of the series. They finish at 6:30 and we're down for a souvlaki sandwich on the street and wait in a LONG line at the St. Marks for the double I see on Tuesday, but as we get to the door they announce first "single seats only" and then "standing room only" and we move down Second Avenue on the way to Environ. Get there about 7, look out on the great views from the 11th floor, lay relaxing for a bit, and a small crowd gathers for the most interesting group called Weirdness Factor, led by a fabulous saxophonist named Marc Whitecage. This goes on until 11, when I say I'm ready to leave, and we walk north toward the Houston Street subway station and pass Anthology Film Archives where Dennis gets turned on to a poster about "Thundercrack," which he wants to see tomorrow, and we find that the St. Anthony Street Fair is on Sullivan Street, so we walk up and I buy saté and he buys a blender coconut drink and zeppole, and we enjoy looking at the people, then up to his place and don't smoke because I'm so tired, but then I sleep very fitfully, being up five or six times through the night with that "I'll NEVER get any sleep" feeling of desperation.
DIARY 10988
MONDAY, JUNE 7. Alarm goes at 7, we come quickly, then I rest while he showers and then he asks me to do the soft-boiled eggs while he has a hamburger cooked for lunch. Home at 9, buying wine on the way, and get back to killing white flies by the dozens and hundreds, many too many, and then read the Times, work both the double crostic and the crossword quickly enough, and then down for the mail to find ANOTHER crossword from Gaulois, which I work for about an hour, having lunch of tuna about 3, and then type two diary pages. Feel so guilty about not having started on the index that I put my phone on the service so that I can screen calls, and Don calls for a long time, and so does BobG, who doesn't want to go to the film tonight, and he moans about his gum-doctor graduating and cheers about his winning so many GOOD games at Uncle Charlie's South at Backgammon, GETTING one for the first time against a good player. Then I decide there are TOO MANY white flies, and that they must be coming from eggs on the old stuff, so I clip that apart and roast it to kill the rest of them, and know that I'll have a LOT of work to get the apartment into good shape for tomorrow, and it seems like the last time I vacuumed was MARCH 26!! Meet Mrs. Johnson in the hallway and say that the bell MUST be fixed, but she says they keep ringing HERS, so my argument goes, and then SHE tried it and it WORKS! But Fred had to ring three times, Richard couldn't get in, Dennis had to phone, and BobR rang three times and DENNIS had to ring Mrs. Johnson. And I find slips from the mailman both today AND tomorrow about something they tired to deliver and there was no response. Don't eat dinner AGAIN, and leave at 7 to get to Anthology Film archives for "Thundercrack" at 7:30, and it fills up nicely, and because I've smoked, everyone on the subway, on the street, and in the audience looks BEAUTIFUL. The film is an absolute gas (see DIARY 10989) and we're out at intermission to hunt for a place to eat, but don't find any, and then at 10:45 we're back to the street festival for more saté, a cold sausage sandwich for $1.50, and then we walk up to 8th Street and find Mamie's Ice Cream shop, where Dennis can't get waffles and has to settle for his THIRD hamburger of the day, while I have a GREAT hot fudge sundae for $1.55, with lots of water, and we feel VERY good, walking up to 14th to JUST get the subway back up to his place, smoking and having sex before bed at 1 am.
DIARY 10990
TUESDAY, JUNE 8. Wake about 6 to the sound of an automobile crash outside, and see the two dented cars later, not nearly as destroyed as the sound would have implied, and we have good shooting sex despite the fact we're having sex with Bob tonight. I get to the store to shop about 9:15, getting $9 more in food for stuffing the refrigerator, and back to listen to the Harrison record and wash the dishes, getting a long call from Art in the middle, and TODAY was the day Don called. Then dust and vacuum the apartment, which REALLY needs it, until 12:30, and then eat the last of the hamburger for lunch while putting the dishes and other things away, and the apartment looks GOOD for the first time in ages. Leave at 12:55 and find that I just have a $20 bill for the subway, so I buy some candy in Whelan's and get to the Lexington subway, which gets me to the theater in plenty of time. "Phantom of Liberty" was greatly over praised, MUCH slower than "Bourgeois," though some of the bits: shitting in public, eating in private; rifle-killed "condemned to death" and leaving the courtroom a freeman; the leather-woman whipping the man in front of the monks; the DOLL of a kid with his aunt---are good enough. But it's too slow and dragged out for just a bit of fun. Then "The Story of Adele H." starts out VERY understated, but builds and builds until you really get a feeling from Adele Hugo, her father, her friends, and even the poor Lieutenant Pinzus that she loves LITERALLY to distraction. Out at 4:50 and subway home to get wine and Triple Sec, then home to shower, get a call from Dennis saying he'll be late, and BobR comes up after his third ring, the first I hear. He showers, we talk, figure his somatype, I boil noodles and then the artichokes; Dennis comes in at 6:45 saying he'd had an argument with Mrs. Johnson, and I go down to say I refuse to pay the rent and she shouts and slams the door in my face. Bob and Dennis are talking agreeably, I finish dinner, we get started on artichokes and Dennis later says he was playing with Bob's cock with his foot under the table. Then we get going into the sex proper, and it ends up a great evening (see DIARY 10991). Dennis falls asleep about 12, Bob and I go into the living room where I just CAN'T bring myself off, and he leaves at 1:15, happy with the evening, and I fall exhausted into bed, covered by sheet only.
DIARY 10992
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 9. I've set the alarm for 7, we wake and start into sex, hard, and about 7:50 Dennis says "Can't we take more time; I don't have to work today." "Why didn't you tell me?" is my first statement, stupid, since I should have asked HIM before setting the alarm (though he was sleeping). Back to doze until 10:15, Bob phoning on the machine at 9 to say thank you, and then Dennis says he's meeting Peggy at 12 for the St. Anthony's fair, so we're up at 10:45 and I broil the rest of the WONDERFUL bacon, scramble eggs, heat up the water for coffee, and the kitchen ends up about 90°. Then he leaves at 11:45, I carpet-sweep the fluff from the rug, kill more white flies, finding NEW leaves with nests of eggs under them, and get down for the mail to find ANOTHER "Attempt to deliver" note, and get to Mrs. Johnson and say that she MUST do something, and she says she DID call the electrician, and I shouldn't send "a child to cry" at her door, and I laugh at her characterization of Dennis, saying that I came down later "holding his hand" to confront her when she slammed the door. I'm feeling VERY spaced out from last night, and finish seven pages, including this, up to date at 2:25 pm. Then get out onto a subway that gets stuck in the tunnel for awhile, so I'm late for the start of "The Whole Town's Talking," but I get the plot, with Edward G. Robinson as a crook and a clerk in MARVELOUS trick photography, and a very dated "Up the River" with the screen debut of Spencer Tracy and Humphrey Bogart, who shows a VERY large dangle in one scene. Even play with the cock of the guy in the next seat, but he won't let me unzip him, and I'm not at ALL hard with him. Out at 6:30 and subway to Dennis's by 6:45 to find that HE'S had a quickie from the subway from 5 to 5:20, and then went for groceries for our DELICIOUS dinner: strawberry soup with yogurt and a salad of lettuce, tomato, sprouts, and tahini, GREAT. Then I'm out at 7:40, when he doesn't want to buy a ticket, and get a subway INSTANTLY down to the Met and into my seat at 7:55 to chat with Shelley for a bit before the start of the most transcendent "Giselle" with Makarova and Baryshnikov (see DIARY 10993). Out dazzled at 10:25 and walk to Dennis's, buying a bottle of blackberry brandy for $6.27, and he's made bread, which we sit and watch rise, he gets a call from Little Rock at 12:30, we have GREAT bread and the rest of the soup about 1:30, then neck and get into a steamy bed about 2, with roaches active.
DIARY 10994
THURSDAY, JUNE 10. I wake a couple of times with roaches walking on me, since Dennis sprayed and cleaned last night, and then the phone rings at 8:30 and he ignores it. It rings again at 10, when we've finished with sex, but he still doesn't answer it. Last night I sat and read about the repair of the Rembrandt "Night Watch" and got into the many levels of reality, and this morning I read his diary and we chatted about it before breakfast, which AGAIN he made in the blender, this time with bananas and cream and yogurt and orange juice, with more of his lovely bread toasted. Call BobG to get no answer, then Arnold, who asks if I got his message, which I didn't yet. He'd bought tickets to Monday, when ALONSO is scheduled to be dancing in "Carmen"! I moan that he didn't buy some for us, but he said they had lots, so I left at 12:15 and subwayed down to the Met to a SHORT line, and when I asked (after getting three for $6 for Monday) which "Sleeping Beauties" were sold out, he said that there were regular tickets for the GALA, so I got one of THOSE, feeling delirious, then phoned Dennis to get some for him and Guy, which he didn't, and then found that "Drumming" was out and they don't take reservations for it. Home about 1:30 and pick up another record from the Brooklyn Library and then two packages which I bring home and open: two volumes of Aurobindo's "Life Divine" and MY STAMPS, which I look through, sort of not much in VOLUME for $180, but it looks WORTH it. Then get messages and one's from FRED COURTNEY, who I talk with for about an hour, then to BobG and Michael and Arnold, then watch Regina Resnick's direction of "Carmen" with rehearsals, Bizet data, and performances intercut from 4 to 5:30. Then type two pages to 6:04. Put on the tuna to warm, shave and shower, and gobble down dinner between 6:30 and 6:45, then subway to the Barbizon Plaza to be VERY late at 7:30 for the Body #5, which is just as bad as the rest of them (see DIARY 10995). Phone Dennis during the break to find that Tony hadn't called (and Dennis wasn't there before 6 when he WAS to have called), but he's content to read and stay home, so at 10:30 I get home, put the stamps away, phone BobG and Rolf and talk till almost midnight, then smoke a bit and get to sleep with earplugs in and phone bell off, ready to catch up on sleep from 12:15.
DIARY 10996
FRIDAY, JUNE 11. Wake about 7:30, which implies I really only NEED seven hours of sleep, but then doze back off and get out of bed at 9. Make a new list of things to do, check the unity catalog for binoculars but decide that I REALLY want good ones for the upcoming ballets, so I'll check Job-Lots before Monday evening. Then type these two pages by 9:45. Then it's finally time for me to start on the Microbiology index, so I get started at 10 and work through until 1:50, talking to Dennis from 11 to 11:30 and going down for the mail and looking through that for about a half an hour. Then have lunch and kill some more white flies and fix up the apartment a bit, and get back to the index, setting up the fan to cool me and putting screens into the windows and opening the French doors and putting up the screen there for the first time this summer, and work on it again from 3 to 5:30, this time taking a half hour out to talk to Arnold, so I've worked a total of 5 hours today, talking to Joanne and told her that there are going to be as many as 8000 lines of index because of all that the author's underlined, and now I don't have to keep the phone on the message service any longer for fear she'll call and I'll have to admit I haven't started yet. This takes a GREAT load off my mind: if I just work 5 hours per day for the next 20 days, I'll be finished with it (and it's ironic that I'm typing this on the FOLLOWING Friday and haven't put in a MINUTE on the index yet!). Then phone Tony and back to Dennis to make arrangements for this evening, and it's only at 6:15 that I realize I haven't turned on "Star Trek" and find that it's a NEW one, whose name I didn't catch, about a neural neutralizer on the Tantalus Rehabilitation planet which almost wipes out Kirk's mind and the creator of it. Arranged to meet Dennis at 7:15, but get there about 7:25, to Sheridan Square, stop in Taco Villa for a GREAT banana-raisin frito and a mushy enchilada, while he gets a taco, and down to the pier to watch Larry Richardson and his lover, and a few other sexy fellows, while we eat until 8:15 and then look at "The Towers" apartment building and a little frame house on Greenwich and Perry or Charles, then to 111 Christopher and the broken mailbox and up to Tony's for a sad session (see DIARY 10997) until 11:30, then here for watermelon and a bit of smoke and cuddle, and to sleep about 1:30, early.
DIARY 10998
SATURDAY, JUNE 12. Wake about 9 and cuddle and jerk each other off, and then up for breakfast of soft-boiled eggs in teacups since every other dish in the house is dirty, and then about 10 phone Arnold and make arrangements to walk across the bridge into Manhattan about 11, asking him over for breakfast (so I called him before that) and he says he'll have his hamburger instead of eggs. We get out late and Arnie's standing in front of his building, and then we're across the bridge in bright breezy weather for a VERY clear view of the Statue of Liberty, and only the noise makes the bridge not a perfect place. Stop in J&R Records at 33 Park Row for nothing in particular, then look into Lorry's books and pick up a paperback for 50% off by Watts on Khajuraho, and then walk up to Job Lots where I buy a pair of 8-power binoculars for $32, seeming better than what I could have gotten through Unity, not to mention quicker, and then it's 1:30 and Arnold wants to see a play at 2, so we're onto separate subways and at 1:45 stop for a half hour while the power goes off the tracks so that people can walk on them to leave a train at 14th Street station, where they've got a fire. We play Botticelli with such notables as Brigitte Bardot, Ann Landers, and Bing Crosby, and then we're out uptown about 2:30 to get into a gallery to hunt for addresses and find Marlboro's in a new building on 57th. Up to the second floor for Red Grooms' "Ruckus Manhattan" for $1, and it's a DELIGHT of World Trade Center, Woolworth Building, GREAT porno shop with REAL porno drawings, the Brooklyn Bridge, and a fabulous Wall Street area with Trinity Church, a Pimpmobile with stacked (in shoes and tits and ass) prostitute, and a riot of a subway car with marvelous people sitting on it. Out at 4:45 and decide it's too late to see de Chirico at Wildenstein, and subway up to Dennis's where he gives me a pink short to wear after we shave and shower, and then down to Reno Sweeney's to see Stephan Grappelli at 7:30, who is interesting (see DIARY 10999). He wants to go back to his place, so we subway up, I buy the Times, we look through it a bit, mix up a drink in the blender, smoke, and he comes beautifully before we go to sleep about 2:30, not really noticing time.
DIARY 11000
SUNDAY, JUNE 13. People ring Dennis on the phone about 10, then 10:30, then his folks call about 11, when I go into the shower, and then get back to the Times and work on the puzzles and get down to breakfast about 1, and since the air conditioner is on we have no idea what it's like outside, but I seem to be getting into the habit of staying IN on the pleasant days and going OUT on the scorchers, or choosing to work when it's about 90° and staying in bed when it's below 80°. After breakfast he REALLY want to get into cock, so we smoke and use up the last of the popper liquid for him (and I ALSO keep forgetting to take him a bottle for Guy!), and get into it and into it, and he gets very hard at times, as I do, but then I go down, and then he comes with his own hands in the usual way: sitting on my chest, and I try to whack away at my cock, but I fail, and we say we'll rest for a bit, but then it's 5 and I have to get back to my place to pick up the TDF vouchers which I hadn't brought along. Talk to BobG and don't make any arrangements for dinner before or afterward, and he says I'm silly for not having had the vouchers along with me, and I know it. Subway home, water the plants, get more white flies, which really seem to be proliferating rather than decreasing, and get out at 7:15 to get to ATL at 7:45, just after BobG and Dennis, and we're in to [forgot that I watched Ravi Shankar on Camera Three at 11-11:30] see a rather poor set of dances (see DIARY 10001) from 8 to 10, Bob's going over to the Eagle, Dennis wants to go home, so I get home at 10:15 to watch the end of "Love Among the Ruins," which I didn't want to miss a SECOND time, and they have a courtroom battle where he "insults" her age and it turns out that SHE set it up for that, knowing she could goad Olivier into his best speeches in making fun of HER, and then they sort of end up walking down a London Mews together into the dimming future. Search for something to watch after that, but can't find it. Have some watermelon to assuage my thirst, kill more white flies, and then smoke some about midnight and get to sleep early, hoping to rest up for a busy week ahead, since everything's scheduled through Thursday NOW, with lots of dance coming up over the weekend, if only the TDF vouchers come, and I'll have to phone them tomorrow.
DIARY 11002
MONDAY, JUNE 14. Up about 9:30, obviously needing sleep, and decide to check out the Biorhythm charts, expanding the calendar in the 1976 Money-Job book through 1977. But it doesn't quite work: had gotten two "directions" of cycles confused in the old books, and some don't come out: even the 28-day cycle that's supposed to be on Monday comes out, really, on SUNDAY, and some of the others don't agree no matter what I do. The 13th really wasn't even a triple day: something on Saturday, something on Sunday, something on Monday, or even Tuesday. But spend a long time on it. Then start going through the mail, reading Soho Weekly Newses from two weeks, and taking a long time to look through the Books for Libraries catalog. This is over by about 1:00, and I mix up a bowl of tuna for watching "As You Like It" from 1 to 2:30, with a too-pretty Laurence Olivier and a LUDICROUSLY accented Elizabeth Bergner with SUCH a high voice and old face it was IMPOSSIBLE to think of her as Ganymede or even Rosalind. The TV's review of "most interesting star combo" must reflect the fact that NEITHER of them were really very good. Watch a few cartoons until 3, then phone Joanne again to say that the index is going to be long, phone the library to find they don't have "Drumming" in, and phone TDF to ask what happened to the vouchers. Phone about an hour looking for Indexstrip cards. Then I decide that I want to look through the stamps that came in, so I gaze at them for a couple of hours over the table, and put them away before they get too wet in the humidity. White flies are still to be killed, and suddenly it's 6:30 and there's not enough time to shower AND cook the steaks (exercised for the first time in ages, tuned in to check "Star Trek" at 6:45), so I put in hash for dinner with two steaks and hamburger rotting in the fridge from my shopping this morning. Out to a slow subway and get into the elevator to curse its stopping at EVERY level, and the usher whispers "The lights are down already" at 8:05, and I'm up the side aisle to hear Arnie whisper that I'm two rows farther back, and slip across to give Dennis a kiss, then say "I'm glad it WAS you," and the curtain goes up on an interesting evening (see DIARY 11003). Out at 10:30 and walk up to his place, buying ice creams, then having a blender drink, smoke, and sex before going to bed about 1:30, delighted to be together.
DIARY 11004
TUESDAY, JUNE 15. Dennis had set the alarm for 8, and we cuddle until 8:30, when he says he has to be at Ruth's at 9:30 to clean for a party on Thursday. I make the eggs for him and he calls to say he'll be there at 10, so we're out about 9:45 and I come home to write out a couple of checks and kill more white flies and wash dishes for about an hour, amazed that I'd dirtied so many, though they date back to our threesome dinner LAST Tuesday. Arnie phones from Norma's to meet at the Carnegie Hall Cinema at 2:15, and I have lunch of tuna while reading through more of the Gandhi article in New Yorker, finally finding the black pen that I'd lost for the past couple of weeks. No time to do anything but clear up things to do and stare again at my list of books, now that the Aurobindo has come in. Phone Harper and Row and they say the books will be in the end of this week. Shower and shave and get out at 1:45, getting there right on time, and "Savages" is weird fun with Sam Waterston, Kathleen Widdoes (as a man and Christopher Pennick (?) as a woman), Susan Blakeley, Thayer David, Salome Jens, and the Candide Pangloss going from Mud People to Sophisticates and back to the wilds. "The Householder" is a more typical Merchant-Ivory film of a put-upon man with his wife, his mother, his boss, his American friend, his guru, that all turns out well in the end as he DOES manage to become happy, his wife summing up marvelously: "Don't THINK about being happy, just BE happy." Out at 6 and share fish and chips at Chock Full until 6:45, then to the Coliseum Bookshop to find nothing new, then up the street to the Met and watch the people coming in to the premiere of "The Sleeping Beauty," with Jackie Onassis, Paul Newman, Joan Woodward (Woody Allen and Liv Ullman that I didn't see), Robert Morse, Scott Douglas, Ivan Allen (whose name I can't remember), and Dick Button that I call Ned Rorem. Also Daisy Roach, Lloyd Moore, and Bob Kunikoff at the various intermissions. NOT much dancing (see DIARY 11005). Out at 11:40, subway home with BobK who shows me his floor plan for the car-less, dog-less Roosevelt Island he's moving to in three weeks, and in at 12:30 to finish reading "My Life as a Man" and have more watermelon and get to bed with a little bit of grass about 1:30, setting the alarm for 9 am.
DIARY 11006
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 16. I wake early, about 8:30, and shut off the alarm and get breakfast eaten before calling Art at 9:55. He wants to leave early, but Dennis says 11 is fine, and I exercise and shower and pack a toothbrush and get out at 10:40, selecting "Universal Baseball Association" to read on the way, and get to Art's at 11 to wait for Dennis until 11:20, then to Bloomingdale's for Art to get cushions, Dennis to shop for a not-yet-here Variety and tell me about his mugging yesterday in the 66th Street john, taking his watch, $19, and locking him with a big cock in the supplies room. Art's out about 12, we're over to First, up to 96th, and up to his place by about 1:30, sky clouding up a bit. We're down to the pool directly, strip, Dennis likes Art's cock (he's wearing a RING all day!), we play with cocks on the floats, looking at frogs and snakes and turtles and roses, then up to the house for egg-onion-artichoke heart-pretzel lunch, then drive to Lee's old place and Art goes into the attic and fills up the back of the station wagon, then to his place to put some things into the shed, then back to the pond to float about, get bitten by tiny flies, such a lot and love it, and then try to negotiate with Jim across the way to see his orchids, but he's in late and we don't go. Up about 7 to the bedroom for fun, then watch him cook a tomato sauce for spaghetti, drink tequila and tonic, that I wittily name TNT, smoke a couple of joints that he found around the place, laced with hash, he says, and we have wine, hear that he doesn't get channels 11 OR 13, so there's no TV tonight, and we're out on the porch looking at the fireflies when it starts raining, we're inside for sex: Dennis sucks off Art, who loves it, and comes all over my chest, and I'm hardly up. To bed about midnight, surprisingly early, and Dennis and I cuddle a bit before Art comes to bed, but we're asleep before we know it. From Dennis's having to be almost dragged up here, he likes it (though he COULD have refrained from saying that I'd described it as a "shack"!!) and the pool, and Art is a perfect host, letting us do what we want, and he might even be amenable to going back, hopefully with Bob, so we can ALL FOUR enjoy the constant touching that helped to make it such a treat for Dennis and me.
DIARY 11007
THURSDAY, JUNE 17. Wake at 8:30 as Dennis slumbers on, and Art had gotten up and going at 7:45 am. Dennis wakes about 9, and we start cuddling when Art comes moving in and out, and then finally says "We should leave in half an hour if we want to do everything," and we finish and get up for Dennis to have some coffee and us to gather everything together and take off about 10 for the Katonah Thrift Shop to leave off stuff on consignment, and they look through the junk while I look at a "Cloris Leachman tree" with large trying-to-be-beautiful flowers that look homespun and plain, though eager to please. Continue the drive down in cloudy weather, take the wrong turn due to Art's mistaking "right" for "straight," and end up getting caught in traffic over the 181st Street Bridge when a truck stalls RIGHT where four lanes should have narrowed to two lanes, and have narrowed to ONE lane. But we get into town at 11:55, so Dennis wants to be let out at 88th Street, and I drive Art down to the shop, find a place to park on the street, and phone the Carnegie Hall Cinema because I forgot my schedule. They don't answer, but I assume it's at 1, and subway up to get a slice of pizza and stand on line to get in at 1 for "Blood and Sand" with a rather unpleasant Tyrone Power and a plain Linda Darnell and an artificial Rita Hayworth for a pretty awful movie, the Valentino seemed better---through it seemed someone like Duse was his mother in THAT and Nazimova was the mother in THIS. Too long at 2 hours. Then "Becky Sharp" has Miriam Hopkins in a part rather more sympathetic than in "Vanity Fair" as described in the Masterplots, and that's rather a bore, too, though historically interesting for being the first full-Technicolor picture in 1935. Out at 4:40 and home by 5:15, phone Pope for an evening of Scrabble since Dennis is helping at Ruth Aley's party, shower and have steak for dinner, and Don calls about the weekend, asking where I've been. Over to Pope's just before 8, compare Bohack 1776 coupons, which he has more of than I do, and I win two games to his one, and we watch a rather boring hour-and-a-half on "Jung," more about his life than psychology, though I'd never heard of his "Philomon-sage" archetype by name, residing within us all. Pretty Swiss photography. Lemonade, crackers and cheese, and nuts are for nibbles, and we watch "Mary Hartman" and I leave to get home at 12 to find no message from Dennis, and no one called Pope when I changed my message. Bed (NO SMOKE) at 1 am, after gorging on watermelon.
DIARY 11009
FRIDAY, JUNE 18. Wake at 7:45, doze off for the two dreams that I record on DIARY 11008, then get out of bed at 8:30, thinking to have breakfast, but start on the white fly-killing, still more, and then get down to typing my diary while the air is still relatively cool. Record the old phone message back, get out the watch for Dennis, get a call from Jim Moultner's lover, who comes over for poppers and makes the bell work, and still typing when Dennis calls at 11:30. Down to find no TDF in the mail, call and find they sell them over the counter, call back and plan for the Playboy Theater tonight. Don calls a couple of times, starting at 8, and I talk with him, saying that the weekend will depend on Dennis's plans. He wants to stay in town. I decide to have the second steak at 1, so fry it up, then wash dishes for the second time in a week, then take to washing the inside of the windows to get the crushed-fly streaks off them. Then get to typing this, the 13th page of the day, after Shelley calls for Tuesday, and I call Daisy and Joann about ballet and index, and finish this up to date at 3:20 in the warm afternoon. Dennis is supposed to arrive at 4, so I get into the shower and he rings my bell about 3:30, so I get out, buzz him in, and finish my shower and then let him get in. Give him the watch and the tee shirt, and the watch is too small. Look at my trip folder and he sorts out what he'd like. I make frozen daiquiris, which we sit around and drink, and then I decide to defrost the refrigerator. We sit and talk, getting stoned on the drinks, and Don calls right when the hamburgers are frying, the corn is bubbling away, and the water from the freezer is going all over the floor. Finish eating and call him about 6:30, just before we leave to get to the Playboy theater rather late at 7:25, but their air conditioning isn't working, so there's no line until 7:55, but it's crowded in the theater ANYWAY and "The Sugerland Express" is a marvelous first film by Steven Spielberg about Goldie Hawn and William Atherton abducting Michael Sacks to get their son back; he's killed, but she's now living in a small West Texas town with the kid. "Family Plot" is neat Hitchcock with a cute William Devane and a great pair of Barbara Harris and Bruce Dern as the put-upon couple. Then at 12 to Guy's for a ludicrous evening's sex (see DIARY 11010), then walk to Dennis's at 2:30 am, getting in VERY weary at 3, to bed with the air conditioner on.
DIARY 11011
SATURDAY, JUNE 19. Wake about 10 and play around for awhile before coming, and then up at 10:30 to call Don, and again his phone's busy. Have breakfast of something from the blender and toast, since Dennis doesn't have any eggs, and then Don calls to ask what we'll be doing today. Dennis insists on going to dance class at 12, thinking it'll be over at 1, and THEN we can do something, and the next thing I know it's 11:35 and he's pushing me out the door. Get to Don's and he wasn't feeling good, but he's willing to go anywhere. I show him the trip folder after I have a drink, and he's all cautious about how much we'll be able to do at all, and I push on him that if Dennis calls before 2, we'll go to the New Jersey Wetlands; if he calls after 2, we'll go to the Niagara in Paterson. He's doing some work and I read "Universal Baseball Association" until 2:30, when I say that's long enough to wait for someone who's supposed to call at 2, but he says "Give him 15 more minutes" and he calls at 2:38, to say that class lasted until 1:30, he wants to get groceries, vacuum, shower, and go to the bank, and I explode a bit and say he can shower and meet us at 3 on the corner. I talk to Don about how I insist on MY way when no one wants to volunteer anything, and then we're down to the car and up at 3:05 and Dennis is out at 3:10, angry with himself for not REALLY saying no, and we drive all the way out for a lousy twenty minutes at the Grand Falls of Paterson (see DIARY 11012). Back by way of the theater to pick up tickets, but they're closed, and get home at 5:30 to the still-frozen lasagna, which is put into the oven, more drinks, more smokes, and we eat at 7, lasagna and salad and wine, and Don decides to stay home, so Dennis and I subway down to 46th and Valerie Bettis's "Spoon River Anthology" which is pretty awful (see DIARY 11013). Out at 10:10, relieved, and go up to his place, buying a newspaper, buying groceries for breakfast; I loaning him money, but giving him $10 that he spent on Friday when he picked up 10 TDF vouchers at the office for us. Make blackberry frappes in the blender, look through the Times, and get down to glorious sex, him coming by rubbing his cock between our bellies, which he loves, and I jerk off my stream on his backside, rather erotic, and we fall asleep very much in love.
DIARY 11014
SUNDAY, JUNE 20. Wake and cuddle a bit before the phone rings at 10:50, and I get up to watch Barbara Cook, and decide I don't like her strident, shrill voice, particularly in the upper register, and what she does with her face when she GETS there. Glad I didn't pay to see HER. Then lovely tomato-Boursin omelets and orange juice, and call Don who'd just as rather stay at home and work. Tell Dennis about Diane MacIntyre and Paul Taylor and Matteo, and he decides on the matinee of Paul Taylor, so we subway down at 1:35 and I ask for two and burst into smiles when I see the tickets: orchestra F108-109---and here I'd been worried about not bringing my binoculars! Then we take a quick stroll around Bryant Park to watch the blacks sleeping on the benches, then back to poor seats because the orchestra slopes down and tall people are sitting in front of us, but the program is absolutely perfect Paul Taylor (see DIARY 11015) and we love it. Out at 4:10 and dash home to watch "Eccentricities of a Nightingale," Williams's prior attempt at "Summer and Smoke," which is pretty good with Blythe Danner and Frank Langella actually ending up HAVING sex, which is nice, and all the traveling salesmen are ALWAYS handsome in these plays! Alma's not got it THAT bad! Dennis types letters to his friend in Little Rock and his brother [and I find today that he leaves a note saying "I love you," which I love], and then I put in Spam with Grenadine sauce and the rest of the hash, with green beans, for dinner, and I'd gone through the paper before we left, bringing home only the TV and the puzzle and something about Operation Sail. Leave at 7:15, he for Paul Taylor, which he likes, though he had a bit much of it; me for Matteo, getting the awful thought when I'm delayed getting there that it might have started at 7 and I'll have only an hour to see, but it starts at 8:10, and it's a lot of little things that I'm glad Dennis didn't see (see DIARY 11016), buy 3 pens and pass a bookstore at Lexington and 96th, and I said I'd be at his place, and we MEET IN THE SUBWAY at TIMES SQUARE! Laugh and hug and delighted at meeting, talk about our dances, up to his place and smoke and read his letters, chatting about them, and AGAIN we have great sex between stomachs, getting to sleep about 1 and setting the alarm for 8.
DIARY 11017
MONDAY, JUNE 21. Alarm rings, but we're too tired to move until he gets out of bed at 8:20, I made soft-boiled eggs and toast, and we're out at 9:20 so that he can get to work at Guy's Union League Club cataloging books at 10 for the next two weeks, leaving me OFFICIAL time to work on my index. I get home about 10:15, meditate and exercise before having breakfast, and then actually WORK on the index from 11:10 to 12:10, doing 135 pages, only going by the underlining, MUCH more sensible, but it'll take AWHILE to TYPE all these cards. Then kill lots of white flies, they've reproduced over the weekend, and watch "No Sad Songs for Me" with Margaret Sullivan, who made THIS beauty about the courage of a woman dying of cancer in 1950 and killed herself when she was going blind, at 49, in 1960! Viveca Lindfors, Dennis's idol, was good, too. But it was SAD!! Cried lots during it, having lunch. Then leave at 3 to get to the 3:45 showing of "Le Corbeau," finding it would be the 14-year-old girl! Then "The Murderer Lives at 12" turns out to be THREE men killing under the ONE name of Monsieur Durand; both use wooden Pierre Fresnay, whom I really can't see. Ellen Jacobs left when I got there, Arnie left one movie in; I left at 7 to find Guy standing outside and then Dennis came up to join him. He says nothing about the evening, so I guess he'll spend it with Guy. I'm home about 8 to finish "The Universal Baseball Association," since I only have 30 pages left in it, and then I read "The Last Words of Dutch Schultz" during dinner of French toast, since I'm all out of pans. Still don't feel like getting to the index, so I read "Erotic Spirituality" until 12, and then get to bed without smoking, since I feel so tired. Dennis called and chatted for a bit, but I felt sorry for myself for not being with him ALL the time. Watered the plants a bit too much, killed white flies a couple of times through the day, and fretted about how much I have to do; Michael called to say he'd take the ballet ticket off my hands; I want to visit the bookshop, can't figure how to plan tomorrow, and have no plans at all of getting to the index before the final pages come in.
DIARY 11018
TUESDAY, JUNE 22. Wake at 8 and get out of bed at 9, remembering a dream in GREAT detail (see DIARY 11910), but I don't get to the typewriter to do it. Meditate, phone some people, exercise, shower, wash my hair, get after the white flies, seemingly endless, finding new patches all the time, and then get out at 11:45 to subway in so fast (leaving off the laundry and sorting out the socks) that I stop at Michael's and drop off the ticket FIRST, then walk quickly up to 40th at 12:35, next-to-last (Peter Ogren from Screw is last) in, and we play a neater new version of "Clockwatchers" (see DIARY 11020) until 1:20, getting $5, and then walk up to Harper and Row and buy two books and DO order two more, since the NEW catalog has them listed, and decide to walk up Lexington to the bookshop I saw on Sunday. Pass Mason's and up to put a $5 deposit on a $35 two-volume "Magnum Mysterium" by Boehme, the only copy I've seen (and they have two), look at Weyhe's to see it's only art, up to a new place on the east side of the avenue in the 70s, to Womrath's just above 79th, on the west side, maybe another place, and then up to The Movable Type Bookshop for Blackwood's "Episodes Before Thirty" for $8, and across to get promises of calls if he finds books I want. It's raining now, so I'm soggily up to 96th, exhausting Lexington, and subway home at 3:45 to stare and stare at my booklists, putting the books away, killing flies, and then record the second side of Harrison's record, since I have to take it back tomorrow [buy groceries and get the "ost" of Boston"] while washing dishes yet again, figuring Dennis will come over tonight, and whip up some tuna fish at 6 to watch "Return of the Archons" where they force a computer-despot to kill itself because it disobeyed its own prime directive of happiness for "the body." Then dash out to the Uris, making it neatly by 7:22, for a beautifully decorated but poorly danced "Merry Widow" with Margot Fonteyn and the Australian Ballet (see DIARY 11021), out at 10:10 and subway here for mashing the last of Don's apricot brandy, and apricots, and ice, in a great apricot frappe, with pot, and we get VERY stoned and he comes AGAIN with BEAUTIFUL feeling and hardness, as do I, and he's to sleep at 1:10, and I watch "Spirits of the Dead" with "Metzengerstein" of horsewoman Jane Fonda, "William Wilson" with self-killing Alain Delon, and "Toby Dammit," previously seen, with Terence Stamp decapitating himself (they cut OUT the head!) with the wire; bed 3:21 am!!
DIARY 11022
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 23. Alarm rings at 8 and we cuddle until 8:20 in the sunlight and coolness when I open the door to the living room. Then I make soft-boiled eggs and coffee for US for the first time in his percolator, but it'll taste better when we get half-and-half to cream it. He leaves at 9:20, saying he'll find a copy of the Times, but calls at 9:50 to say that he just read a review of Monday's program, which was dynamite. Can't see everything! I get after the white flies in earnest, killing a couple hundred of them, and then get caught up in doing nothing: look over my booklist again, bringing the list of books on the shelf up to date and AGAIN seeing how many of the books I could get, making a list of questions I have to answer at the public library to cut down the list even more: if "Jonah" came out only in 50 copies, I hardly think I'll be able to get one. Read some of the Poe stories to see where the movie came from last night, and then at 11:30 there's a buzzing of buzzers and someone comes up to say that it's now fixed, and I thank Mrs. Johnson. Then down for the mail and find all sorts of things, and eventually I sit down and get off four pieces of mail during the afternoon. Don't meditate or exercise, look through dance lists some more, get a call from Don about Mexico, then another from Guy canceling out tomorrow night's "Thundercrack." Put things away, water plants a bit too much, and at 2:30 get to the bank for cash, take a record back and borrow another Mahavishnu, buy stamps, search for books, buy salt tablets, and get groceries to hope to find a "B" for BOSTON at Bohack, but don't. Put things away, kill white flies again, rinse out the pipe-bottle, do some typing, then get my 69th "Star Trek" watching "A Taste of Armageddon" where computers wage war and "killed" people willingly go to disintegrators. Dennis is going to a group singing class at 7:30, I have LUNCH during TV, then back to typing, calling Joan and talking for about a half hour, Rolf calls, back from New England for two weeks, and I try Paul Bosten (busy) and Stephen Waite (no answer), then type 12 pages before Dennis buzzes at 11:05. We shower, I make frozen daiquiris, very conscious of the noise from outside; we smoke grass, listen to Mahavishnu, get into his cock, and he comes AGAIN by rubbing against my belly: I don't come, we get to sleep at 2:10 am, too LATE!
DIARY 11023
THURSDAY, JUNE 24. Alarm at 8, just barely touch till 8:30, when we're reluctantly up. He shaves and showers while I fry bacon and eggs and make coffee, and he's out at 9:20 again, disgusted with working ALREADY. I wash dishes, kill a few more flies, down to fewer than 100 now, and finish typing these last two pages by 10:30, ready for a FULL day on the INDEX! Type 926 cards for 150 pages in the three hours until 1:45, talking to Arnie for 15 minutes, for more than 6 cards per page and about 310 cards per hour, which is good with his awful spelling! Tear cards from 1:45 to 2, then eat lunch, wash dishes, talk to Paul Bosten on the phone, read the mail, and then get back from 4:30 to 6 for another 75 pages typed and torn, see that "Star Trek" is a duplicate, and back coding 75 pages from 6:15 to 7:30, when Dennis calls to say that he wants to spend the evening at home putting laundry together and vacuuming, so he doesn't care about coming out to the Cubiculo with me. I just want to get through all the TDF vouchers by next Wednesday, so I call for reservations and get the awful news that I have to pay an extra $1.50 for membership, since I haven't been there during the past year. Well, I made plans for it, so I'll do it. Shave and wash my face, but figure to shower there, and get out at 7:55 to get to the Cubiculo just at 8:30. Present her with a TDF voucher and she says this isn't a dance performance; what had been listed on the TDF calendar is "Barry Magnani Dance Company" is now "Fits, Seizures and Small Complaints" by The Gelosk Company. I stand there looking vacant, she notices that I had the TDF card all filled out, calls someone else out, who can't suggest anything, and then she says "We'll figure out something to do," takes the ticket and doesn't even charge me the extra $1.50! In for an audience of less than 20 for a very amateurish evening (see DIARY 11024) and out at 10:15 to subway to Dennis's at 10:30. Hear him open the door at the top of the stairs, smell bread baking, and he asks if I want to come to a party, and then I hear a toilet flushing inside, and Mark is there, so we DO have a party (see DIARY 11025). He leaves about 12:30, having to get up at 7 to design textiles, we have sex AGAIN after trying to sleep, getting to bed about 2 am, delighted with the evening and with each other.
DIARY 11026
FRIDAY, JUNE 25. Phone rings at 8, but Dennis doesn't answer, and then we start necking and fooling around, and I feel like coming since I didn't come the second time last night, as Dennis did, and he gets the popper and I come again and then HE comes again, and it's 9, he makes bananas and cream and we have toast for a different breakfast, and we get out at 9:30. I subway down to 28th and over to the Apollo to pay $97.20 for 20 boxes of cards: I merely SAID that it was $4.50 and they went ALONG with it for 20,000. Lug them to the BMT, then subway down to 14th, thinking to change to the 7th Avenue, and of course I have to change to the LEX. To Borough Hall, then back to Clark St., and walk up here about 11. Look at the mail until 12, then get to typing these three pages until 12:35, and figure to call Arnie and see if I can get in touch with Steve Waite. Code pages from 12:45 to 3:25, getting a return call from Arnie for about half an hour and talking to Don and Stephen Waite for about forty-five minutes, so I worked for an hour and a half and coded 110 pages. Then went down for the mail, had lunch while reading a New Yorker article on Carl Sagan (rhymes with pagan), fertilize the plants, kill white flies, and when I get back to the index it's as late as 7:20. Code more pages, see the "Star Trek" is a repeat, and take only a ten-minute break, John Woods buys a bottle, while working through until 9:20, 4 hours in which I do pages 458-778, 320 pages, for 80/hour, not bad. From 9:20 to 9:50 I calculate that I've worked 20 hours already, have 20 more hours to finish what I've got, 10 hours to end, 30 to edit and 40 to type, so there are 100 hours to go, 16 days at 6 hours per day, so that's OK. Don't feel like eating, so I phone Pope to ask if he wants to go to Atlanta with Don and me, and he says no, and then I shower and it's 10:30. Decide to sort out the two huge stacks of souvenirs into dance/event/movies/plays/ opera/other things, and I do that until midnight, feeling good about it, and then I'm tired enough to get ready for bed (which is easy since I'm not wearing any clothes, but my nose seems to be running with the "coolness" (heat dips below 80°) of the evening. Smoke a few tokes of grass, put the phone beside the bed to call Don in the morning, and get to sleep, quite contentedly, at about 12:15.
DIARY 11027
SATURDAY, JUNE 26. Wake about 8, doze with strange dream-fragments that I don't remember, and call Don at 8:50, to say that I don't know what the weekend will bring yet, but he's decided to stay in town. Up at 9:10, have breakfast for the first time in ages, feeling NOT empty after having only two little meals yesterday, and finish this single page for the day at 9:45. Then type on the index from 9:45 to 11:15, and decide that I WILL go out for the package at the post office, picking up the three books from Quality Paperback Service, getting groceries to see what the city-code will be, and back at 12 to get the mail and find that "Beyond Jupiter" makes looking through the Chambers catalog of books worthwhile. Try calling Dennis, but he's on the tour of post-revolutionary New York theaters with Guy (theater SITES, actually), and he calls later to accept my plans with Arnie for the Ashley Dance Company. I have lunch of tuna, then get back to typing from 1:15 to 23:30, and then Dennis calls from 2:30 to 3. I tear to find that I have almost exactly 6 cards per page so far, not really that bad, though later chapters have more, and then continue typing from 3:45 to 5:45. Put some things away and kill white flies before finding "Star Trek" is a duplicate, then shave and get downstairs at 6:45 to be disgusted with Arnie saying that he'd rung my bell and nothing happened. I simply don't want to believe it. Feel irritated at him with a couple of other things, such as saying that PART of the fleet will come under the Narrows Bridge at 8 am Saturday, but he insists that the tall ships will be passing Fire Island on Saturday, and as it turns out we're BOTH right, but I wasn't insisting that he was WRONG, while he was. To the F train, getting it immediately, and down to East Broadway and up to Grand to get tickets, standing and talking, and Dennis was early and joins us at 7:20, and the pretty dull performance starts at 7:47 (see DIARY 11028). Out at 9:45 and walk across to Sung Hwa, or something, Szechwan restaurant at 40 East Broadway, and have chili-shrimp, moo shu pork (which the waiter verifies IS mooshy), and chicken with pine nuts, none really special, and out at 11:30 to pick up the Times and get in at 12:15 to watch "Saturday Night" with Lily Tomlin until 1:30, shower and then have GREAT sex until 3, smoking WITHOUT the water pipe, which Dennis says makes it MUCH stronger, and we both shoot all over the wonderful place. Almost hot enough to bring the fan into the bedroom, about 84°!
DIARY 11029
SUNDAY, JUNE 27. I wake at 8, doze, at 8:30 silently bitch at her upstairs moving around, at 9 to curse the barking dog and wonder WHY the fuck she's decided to VACUUM up there at THIS hour of the morning? Dennis rouses about 10, and I've been playing with myself, so I'm VERY hard for a long time, and he comes VERY nicely while hard after playing, and I have a great shoot, and lie there totally soaked until we're up at 11:30. Propose pork chops for breakfast, which we have after he showers and we look at the Times for a bit, and we finish at 1 with coffee and peas and apple sauce, and I'd cut up the pineapple and fried with grenadine on top of the chops. Covered the slightly rotting taste of the chops that I only bought on Monday. Find that Laird had called at 10, but he's gone at 1. I finish working the puzzle, which goes quickly, and read the rest of the Times in order to get directly down to typing more cards from 4:15 to 6:15, then find that "Space 1999" isn't on anymore, and type from 6:30 to 8, getting up to 596 and feeling GOOD about it, fan going because it's so hot. Then turn on "Romeo and Juliet" with Bessmertnova and Lavrovsky from the Bolshoi Theater, and it's a GREAT production (see DIARY 11030). This goes until 10, and I'm disappointed that Dennis hadn't called: he'd gone out to a movie with Peggy at 2:15 and said he might be over for the ballet and then we could go to his place, but he didn't call at all. I debated calling Don, but didn't. Had called Fred Courtney last night and left word for him to return my call, but he didn't. Then get (had scrambled eggs for SOMETHING to eat during the ballet) back to coding from 10:05 to 12:35, getting up to page 930 in some manner or form, but I'm getting sloppy, so I just glance through the final pages to see if I have any questions, and come up with some on the final pages to impress Joan when I call her tomorrow when she gets back from vacation. Now it's really into the final stages, but I think I'm far enough along to work it OK. Flies buzzing around the smelly garbage in the kitchen, which has been wetting through the bottoms of the last three bags, and I smoke a bit and get to bed at 1, thermometer still registering 84° in the living room, so I barely need a sheet to sleep under.
DIARY 11031
MONDAY, JUNE 28. Wake at 6:30, again at 8. Then peroxide the ear, fizzing mightily, and meditate at 8:20. Put things away from last night, exercise with great sweat, then have breakfast, kill white flies, and type these four pages to keep up to date by 10:30. Water plants, and get to typing for three hours from 10:45 to 2:20, stopping when Arnie returns my call from 10:55 to 11:25, and typing 126 pages worth, still not really going fast enough. Then Joann calls at 2:20 and we talk until 3 about all the questions I have, and she lets most of the mistakes I found go unchecked, saying "they probably found that." She's got the final pages ON HER DESK, so she'll be sending them out this afternoon she says (but they didn't get here in the next day's mail). Then stop for lunch and kill more white flies, 130+ on the kitchen ones, so I can 't tell whether things are getting better or worse, but at least I'm getting rid of all the produce from the EGGS, hopefully before they're old enough to lay MORE eggs. Read the mail, then get back to typing from 4:30 to 5:30, very hot inside, up to 87°, and from 5:30 to 6 I tear 2573 cards, which means I have 4691 for 784 pages, over 6 per page, considering that SURELY more than 13 added lines have been typed onto various cards. Then SEE a "Star Trek" "Space Seed" that I'd talked to Rolf through last time, with Khan having ruled 1/4 the earth in 1993, made superman by genetic scientists, and escaped to find a new world to conquer, which Kirk takes him to. Dennis calls at 6:55, inviting me to dinner, and I say I'll come as I am, and he DOESN'T tell me until I get there that he's invited a friend of his, Theo, (thee [like lisped "see"]---oh) at 8:30. I get there at 7:55, reading a rather boring "Dark Night of the Soul," shower and shave and put on "Let's hug" of his since the shirt I wore was so smelly, and Theo's tall and bearded, rather like Dror, only heavier, with the reddest lips under his mustache, but he's got a lot of pot, doesn't drink or smoke grass, so it might not turn into anything. Dennis heats up the kitchen with chicken a la Kiev, brown rice, I buy another sloe gin for $5.39, and he makes a cherry-bed upside-down-pie with almonds on top, and then at 12 Theo says he has to leave, having to be up at 7 am, and rises off the floor to launch into an interesting threesome (see DIARY 11032), and Dennis and I get to bed after more cuddling and kissing, conditioner off, at 1:45 am.
DIARY 11033
TUESDAY, JUNE 29. Wake in the pre-dawn darkness, terribly hot and sweaty because the air conditioner isn't on, and it's been lightning and raining, and I fear (needlessly) that my open window is going to ruin my lamp, table, speaker, and rug. Phone rings at 7:50 [and the guy from Little Rock called AGAIN last night, in answer to Dennis's letter he typed here last Sunday], and then we start necking, playing nicely with each other, and I come myself, and he seems to want to come, but doesn't, saying he'll wait until tonight, and he's into the shower about 9:10. We have toast from last night, he has his mandatory coffee, and we're out about 9:40 after I make the bed and put the dishes into the sink. I'm home about 10:30, wash out the smelly garbage-box from yesterday, kill white flies, over 140 this time, more rather than less, and clean up the kitchen a bit, water plants, and type these two pages by 11:40. Get started typing at 11:45, but Rolf calls and wants to come over, and Arnie calls for a half an hour, chattering about nothing. Type a bit more, until 1:30, and Rolf comes over to talk about Larry Price and a new low for asbestos and his trip to Vermont and the new civilization living there "like me" who works for a few months and then takes the rest of the year to travel in South America. I chase him out at 2:30, get back to typing, and call Pope when Joann calls and says I should send BACK pages 1036-66, and she'll have the end of pages by the end of the week, so I'm on schedule ANYWAY. And I've ALREADY told her that I'll be leaving on July 23rd, so everything is coming together. Mail out a bill for $600, too, then stop at 4:45 to kill more white flies, shower, shave, do the first calculations on my income tax penalty, but need to phone them for more information. "Star Trek" comes up with a NEW one, or one that I'd seen long ago and forgot to record: "Errand of Mercy" about pacifists and their powers, and leave at 6:50 to get to Burger King at 7:13 and a grumpy Dennis when I complain that the tickets are $7.75, half of $13.50 + $1.00, but am cheered to find that the LOWEST prices are $6.50 for the second balcony! "Something's Afoot" is quite pleasant (see DIARY 11034), we're out at 9:50 to listen to a band, up to his place where he makes the last chicken Kiev, more zucchini, the vegetable from last night, more toast and dessert, and we smoke and have sex, he coming nicely, but I'm not into coming, feeling VERY tired, and we get to sleep, lightning out again, at 1:30, again with the air conditioner off, and it gets stuffy again before morning.
DIARY 11035
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 30. Wake at 7:20, too tired to move, again at 8, unhappy with the thought that this is the last day of June, a whole half-year gone already! We cuddle and he comes JUST before I do, he shooting way up to my shoulder with two large globs that send me into orgasm directly after, and then we're up at 8:20 to shower and have breakfast of honey/almond/raisin omelets and zucchini that are VERY filling, with toast, and leave at 9:50 on a slow subway, getting home at 10:30, and finishing the last 15 pages of "Dark Night of the Soul" at last, having started it on March 15, and I can get on to something else. Kill white flies again until 11:30, when Bob Rosinek calls to say he's going to Florida on July 5, to the island before and after, and back to work on July 19. He gets Dennis's phone number, missed us both, and has had another thing with his black movie star. Then at 12 get down to the diary, finishing at 12:15, ready to start the day. Type to page 920 from 12:20 to 1:50, but I haven't marked well beyond this point, so I shift to marking from 1:50 to 3:05, finishing all the 1035 pages that I have, and then I go directly to typing those pages from 3:05 to 5:05, delighted to be caught up, and tear the cards apart from 5:05 to 5:20, making a 5-hour workday in all. Send out some checks in the mail and order books, too. Then shower and shave and put on the steak to fry while seeing that "Star Trek" is a duplicate, eat dinner with wine, and get out at 6:50 to get to the Americana Hotel at 7:30 and watch all the people milling around while reading the start of Boehme's book. Up to get them signed in, into the 1500-people ballroom for Werner Erhard at 8:10 (see DIARY 11036). Dennis and Don don't care for them (Werner and Pat Waddell), I talk to Nancy and to Michael Blackburn, and then Don suggests we go to his place for some wine. Dennis is hungry, so Don puts tuna fish into Chinese vegetables for a decent meal, and we talk about est. I get carried away into mysticism, saying that THIS is why I didn't want to talk about it before: I either get too mystical or too hard-sell, and nothing gets appreciated. We talk until about 12:30 (I giving them the "guest session" process), getting nowhere, except that Dennis says he's liking Don more, and we walk up to his place in the actually COOL evening, cooled from the rains during the evening, and undress and chat about the evening, having a few tokes in the candlelight, and cuddling and necking, before going to sleep about 1:30, knowing the fucking alarm is set for 8 am for his work tomorrow.
DIARY 11037
THURSDAY, JULY 1. Look at watch at 7:40, Dennis shuts off alarm and we cuddle, then he looks at my watch and I say "It's 5 to 8," and he asks in amazement how I knew. Out to jerk off in sunlight, he on me, by 8:30, then he showers, I wash dishes, he exercises while I shit (60 situps); he makes fried eggs for breakfast, I call Joann at 9:20 to see if I can pick up pages, but she's not in. Leave at 9:45, walking very fast, pick up laundry, yesterday's mail, and in at 10:35 to open the doors to let in the 78° coolness, then type these two pages to 11 am. Work for three hours from 11 to 2, sorting the 6413 cards into A-Z order, and that FINISHES the work I have, though when I call, she says that she'd mailed off the pages YESTERDAY, having gotten the pages back from me on Tuesday and sent them off on Wednesday. Have lunch, kill more white flies, then Arnie calls to cancel out, so I try Rolf and Joan and Michael and Steve and Art, but none of them wants to or CAN go, and so I call Don and he agrees to go with us. Try to call Dennis, but he doesn't answer. Then get into the income tax penalty, and call the office and talk to them about a half an hour, finally getting it clear WHAT their idea is, and I guess on rehearing, it's not that bad: everyone ELSE gets their money taken out, so at least I can pay it in SEPTEMBER and JANUARY rather than waiting for April. Mail out checks for that and for Blue Cross, and I rather fell that I'm keeping up with everything, and that feels good. [Though I don't get to this page again until 7/6, which is a bit TOO late.] Phone to make sure that the play starts at 8, and watch a lot of "City on the Edge of Forever" while eating pork butt, the repeat with Polly Bergen, but I want to do SOMETHING while eating dinner. Then out at 7 to get to the theater at 7:45 and find no one there, and Don arrives first, to make my explaining his presence to Dennis somewhat of a problem. Dennis shows up at 5 of, introduces us to Jake, a somewhat fleshy person who doesn't turn me on, and we're in to fabulous seats in about the 11th row for "The Runner Stumbles" (see DIARY 11038), and rather than letting us out at 10:10, as they'd said, so that I could see the dance program on TV at 10:30, it lets us out at 10:25, and we want to eat, Dennis hasn't at all, so he invites Don (at my suggestion) up to his place, fries up hamburgers, which I have one of, and Don sees his apartment, and Don says the trip is short since he has to be back Sept. 1!!, has nothing to drink while we have sloe screws---no, he DOES have one!---and then leaves at 12 so that Dennis and I can get to smoking and sex; and probably typically HE comes, we have snacks, I don't, and we get to sleep about 2 am.
DIARY 11039
FRIDAY, JULY 2. Wake at 8 and I come, and Dennis comes again, and then we're up to have breakfast and get out on the subway, he determined to get to work early because Guy said something about his being late yesterday. I follow him to get to the BMT and go uptown to pick up the Boehme books, but get back HOME to find that four chapters are missing, and the guy at Mason's says that Weiser's has it for $30, so I can get it there, complete, and sell this back to them so they can return it to the publisher. Then get to white flies, look at the last pages that I got in the mail, look at the rest of the mail, and meditate and exercise for the first time in about a week, and then feel ready to get to work from 1:20 to 3:05 coding the last of the pages, and from 3:30 to 5:45 typing the last of the cards for a total of 7064 cards for 1165 pages, just over 6 per page, and tear and alphabetize them from 5:45 to 6:15, after checking the title of the current "Star Trek," which I've seen. So I've finished that and I can shave and shower and get ready for Guy's party. Dennis calls and I say I'll be watching the start of the "Swan Lake" on TV, and that he should call me if he finds that the party is particularly interesting. Call Paul and thank him for the tickets, and we still don't know what we're doing over the weekend. I look through the stuff from Mexico, trying to find how long the trip IS that Don thinks can be done before September 1, and sort through the Op Sail information to see what I'm taking along this evening, since I'll be staying at Dennis's for the weekend. Then put on the TV at 8 and Makarova is still on top in her performance (see DIARY 11040), though Nagy isn't very great and the reception on Channel 31 leaves a lot to be desired. Put off leaving until about 10:30, after the Black Swan PDD and the interview with Makarova, and find the liquor shop 67 is closed at 68th, so up to 1st for a half-gallon of wine and up to Guy's to see Rhea leaving, and the party turns into an incredible event (see DIARY 11041) in which I meet Beatrice, have sex with Mark, and get VERY stoned out, leave with group to eat at the American Restaurant at 58th and 8th, my old block, at 4:30, and have omelet with 11 crazies, out at 5:454 to walk up CPW in the dawn-pink anti-gloaming, and actually COME because we haven't, and get to bed at 6:50 am, just RIDICULOUS!
DIARY 11043
SATURDAY, JULY 3. We wake at 12 and neck a bit but get right out of bed, and Dennis makes coffee and says he's supposed to be at Paul Morse's at 1, and he calls to say I'll be over, and Paul is sad because he'd expected to have sex with Dennis alone. Walk down to his place via Broadway, picking up strawberries and two kiwi fruit for 98¢, and then to Paul's on the river at 74th, a nice breezy apartment that he'd just torn down the bedroom divider, so there's just the cat, Fido, one big room, and a kitchen in which he's defrosting a refrigerator. He's plumpish below the neck, but has a nice face rather like Dror's in friendliness and affection. We smoke a bit, get up to the roof to look at the cruisers from the International Naval Review sitting in the river, down for strawberries and the marvelous kiwis: a cross between a banana and a strawberry I wouldn't have believed from the tannish-brown furry cover, but the strawberry-banana parentage is apparent from the beautiful arrangement of tiny seeds in the center and the sweet juicy sweet-sour flavor, tastiest near the thin skin. He plays lots of his own songs in a sincere, vulnerable, quavering voice that I find very effective, and he ends by playing a tape of his play, with two sold-out performances at Lincoln Center, and singing parts with the sound of his own voice. Dennis has to meet Catherine at 5:30, and Paul has to be somewhere at 5, so I call Paul Bosten at the theater and talk about tomorrow---STILL unplanned---while Dennis does Paul in the bathroom, which he loves. Out and walk around a bit until Catherine gets out of the bathtub, and then to her building across from Hayden Planetarium, where her apartment is being redone, meeting Sonia, "the maid for Madame and I," and we're out for dinner at the Red Baron, where Dennis has DELICIOUS sweetbreads for $8.25 and I have poorer duck and cherry sauce for $9.50 and she has a salad, and the bill is rather steep. Out about 7:30 to walk down to see the Nichiren Shoshu parade on 6th Avenue, then get up to Guy's for the fireworks at 10 (see DIARY 11044), and it ends up as ANOTHER orgy, smaller this time, where I do Stephen and Sandy and BobG (!) and leave at 1, find we hadn't come, both come after smoking some more, and get to bed at 2 am again, feeling really rather tired with the busy weekend.