Mute musings
Jun. 25th, 2003 02:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jawnbcI have a sore throat and am in bed. Text it shall be then.
8 June is my sister's birthday. 17 June is Nanny's. 20 June is Nanny's wedding anniversary (RIP Pop), 21st Ma & Da's. And on 27 June Da, Uncle Kevin, my brother Michael and one of my nieces (I have 8, plus 2 nephews) all have their birthdays. Factor in graduations and I stay the fook outta NY in June. Right now Telstra is creaming in its pants, with my long distance calling patterns. So I've been on the horn to NY every 3rd day or so as of late. Nice.
Were I still a kid, right about now Ma and Da would be organizing us to head to the summer house. Green plastic garbage bags of clothes would be smooshed together in the back-back, along with boxes of kitchen supplies and bags of groceries. Kathleen, Michael and Tommy would be in the back. If there were room I'd be in the back-back among the luggage, otherwise I'd be stuck between Ma and Da, gross because of Ma's smoking. The drive took around 60-90 minutes, depending on traffic. By the time we hit Howard BEach we could smell the salt water--woo hoo! Then was a frantic unpacking of the car before we all ran down to the boardwalk to check out the beach.
Our closest cousins, the Kennedys (Maureen, Tricia, Susan, Joseph and John), would have arrived that day as well, from Connecticut. Their drive was 2.5 hours, but their Da had the car packed the night before and they were on the road by 9am--we never got out of the house before noon. We unloaded our car; they were all on the beach. But we were too, soon enough. Over the next several days our Egan (Desi and Michelle) cousins moved in as well--although they only lived 15 blocks away! But Dad and his siblings (Berna Kennedy and "big" Desi Egan) wanted us to grow up together. Eventually more distant relations would arrive over the course of the next week. And we'd all settle into a 3 month routine of beaching, drinking coffee on the porch, and whooping it up at night.
It was magical. Though more than a little claustrophobic.
As teens, we invariably began to experiment with alcohol (lots) and drugs (a bit). The walls in the summer house were thin, and everyone's windows were open to stay cool anyway, so there was no privacy to speak of. To keep the peace the "not my kid" principle was upheld thoroughly: what anyone else's kid gets up to isn't my business--and that works both ways. So if I were puking in the hall bathroom, if my parents didn't hear it, no one did. If Maureen came home at 5am and ran into Aunt Denise in the hall, curt nods were exchanged, but nothing divulged. Since we travelled in a pack, our parents gave us late curfews (2am at 15, none thereafter)--they knew we'd take care of one another.
We were raised to watch after our own. And we did.
Now if you're the only homosexual in the house, and you've concomitantly discovered:
+ you're a homo
+ your libido
+a nearby gay nude beach
It only makes sense you'd not invited your cousin Susan to take a walk. So starting at age 15 I'd connive to escape the clan a couple of times a week. To get my phreak on. So I would "go for a walk" along the water, until I made it to Riis Park's Bay 1. Mostly I'd stare, but there was also a lot of cruising and I certainly took part in that too. Exploration was definately the theme.
Then I'd walk home. And the questions would start.
"Wheah wuh yoo?"
"Faw a wawk"
"Wheah'd'ja go?"
"27tth ta wawtch tha surfaz"
"nah, Tommy an' Desi wuh theah"
"I didn't hang out, I took a look an' kept goin'"
"Ta Lawng Beach?"
"Na, not that faw"
pregnant pause
"Theah's a block pawty on 108 tonite..."
I can't be sure no one ever saw me at Bay 1, but no one ever dobbed me in for it. I can imagine no one would've wanted to be the one to tell Da that Jawnie Boy was queer. Maybe also my parents didn't scrutinize me very much, because I was the only kid in the family who didn't get into trouble. Not because I was an angel, but because I was clever and learned from my siblings' mistakes. And being the youngest they no doubt had lightened up a bit.
But it was around this time, before I considered myself gay (I thought I was having fun, nothing more), I knew I'd have to leave the family--perhaps not totally, but to a great extent--if I really wanted to be me. Which saddened--and saddens--me very much. But there was a fork in the road ahead, and I knew my paths was to be different...
8 June is my sister's birthday. 17 June is Nanny's. 20 June is Nanny's wedding anniversary (RIP Pop), 21st Ma & Da's. And on 27 June Da, Uncle Kevin, my brother Michael and one of my nieces (I have 8, plus 2 nephews) all have their birthdays. Factor in graduations and I stay the fook outta NY in June. Right now Telstra is creaming in its pants, with my long distance calling patterns. So I've been on the horn to NY every 3rd day or so as of late. Nice.
Were I still a kid, right about now Ma and Da would be organizing us to head to the summer house. Green plastic garbage bags of clothes would be smooshed together in the back-back, along with boxes of kitchen supplies and bags of groceries. Kathleen, Michael and Tommy would be in the back. If there were room I'd be in the back-back among the luggage, otherwise I'd be stuck between Ma and Da, gross because of Ma's smoking. The drive took around 60-90 minutes, depending on traffic. By the time we hit Howard BEach we could smell the salt water--woo hoo! Then was a frantic unpacking of the car before we all ran down to the boardwalk to check out the beach.
Our closest cousins, the Kennedys (Maureen, Tricia, Susan, Joseph and John), would have arrived that day as well, from Connecticut. Their drive was 2.5 hours, but their Da had the car packed the night before and they were on the road by 9am--we never got out of the house before noon. We unloaded our car; they were all on the beach. But we were too, soon enough. Over the next several days our Egan (Desi and Michelle) cousins moved in as well--although they only lived 15 blocks away! But Dad and his siblings (Berna Kennedy and "big" Desi Egan) wanted us to grow up together. Eventually more distant relations would arrive over the course of the next week. And we'd all settle into a 3 month routine of beaching, drinking coffee on the porch, and whooping it up at night.
It was magical. Though more than a little claustrophobic.
As teens, we invariably began to experiment with alcohol (lots) and drugs (a bit). The walls in the summer house were thin, and everyone's windows were open to stay cool anyway, so there was no privacy to speak of. To keep the peace the "not my kid" principle was upheld thoroughly: what anyone else's kid gets up to isn't my business--and that works both ways. So if I were puking in the hall bathroom, if my parents didn't hear it, no one did. If Maureen came home at 5am and ran into Aunt Denise in the hall, curt nods were exchanged, but nothing divulged. Since we travelled in a pack, our parents gave us late curfews (2am at 15, none thereafter)--they knew we'd take care of one another.
We were raised to watch after our own. And we did.
Now if you're the only homosexual in the house, and you've concomitantly discovered:
+ you're a homo
+ your libido
+a nearby gay nude beach
It only makes sense you'd not invited your cousin Susan to take a walk. So starting at age 15 I'd connive to escape the clan a couple of times a week. To get my phreak on. So I would "go for a walk" along the water, until I made it to Riis Park's Bay 1. Mostly I'd stare, but there was also a lot of cruising and I certainly took part in that too. Exploration was definately the theme.
Then I'd walk home. And the questions would start.
"Wheah wuh yoo?"
"Faw a wawk"
"Wheah'd'ja go?"
"27tth ta wawtch tha surfaz"
"nah, Tommy an' Desi wuh theah"
"I didn't hang out, I took a look an' kept goin'"
"Ta Lawng Beach?"
"Na, not that faw"
pregnant pause
"Theah's a block pawty on 108 tonite..."
I can't be sure no one ever saw me at Bay 1, but no one ever dobbed me in for it. I can imagine no one would've wanted to be the one to tell Da that Jawnie Boy was queer. Maybe also my parents didn't scrutinize me very much, because I was the only kid in the family who didn't get into trouble. Not because I was an angel, but because I was clever and learned from my siblings' mistakes. And being the youngest they no doubt had lightened up a bit.
But it was around this time, before I considered myself gay (I thought I was having fun, nothing more), I knew I'd have to leave the family--perhaps not totally, but to a great extent--if I really wanted to be me. Which saddened--and saddens--me very much. But there was a fork in the road ahead, and I knew my paths was to be different...
