"...Days go by"

 

Day 564.

Just sitting today. Reading working on little things watching the changing of seasons.

Warm breezes by my window. That mix of scents Autumn brings.

I have a calmness for the moment.

I hope to stay so.

"...touchstone"

"The Human Comedy"

A 1943 film directed by Frank Morgan.

It's one of the touchstones of my boyhood.

It was a kindly humane story.

A working class family that had lost their father.

Sons in the war, and not knowing

 if they'll ever be seen again.

Through it all the family went on.

Idealized in some ways.

It's a movie

Yet still giving the aura 

of the hard realties of the era.

It wasn't popular, and got lost in the waves of WW2 films. 

It later found it's audience 

in the 1950's, and 60's on TV.

Only one video release in the 80's. 

Never appeared on DVD. 

I've never seen it on You Tube except for clips.

I imagine because of what it is.

Thoughtful, and humane.

Sort of like many period Russian films.

As a Queer Sissy boy it spoke to me of kindness.

A rare thing then as now.

 

 

"...words"

 

I re-post this as I dreamed of my dad last night.

Family checks up on you. So always wear something nice. Once upon a time:

"My father taught me the love of words, and their meanings. My last memories of him are at our kitchen table. He's paging through the Webster's he got us. It was a big as a Gutenberg Bible, and just as precious. 'Took us from first grade through college. There he sat through the night with that great book. Searching learning immersed in the wonder of words."

 

My whole family with the sole exception of myself is musically trained.

We traditionally have been since just after Slavery.

As a child I would lay under her grand piano

as my aunt Geraldine would play this.

 

"...Sissyhood"

Being Queer a Sissy is to have a particular sensitivity to the world. 

I say "Sissy" because not all homosexuals are Queer. 

Some fuck like them, but are not remotely them.

I was born one. I was a Sissy when a young boy. 

I was called "Sensitive".

This by my Mother, and Aunts. 

Other things by boys, on the block, and at school. 

When I was seven 

I knew I had a different seeing. 

A Sissy's seeing.

There was a day in fall. 

The Sky. 

The Colors, and swift Clouds of October. 

I sat in my backyard for hours I think. 

Just watching.

I was uplifted taken away by the wonder of it. 

This in essence is Queerhood.

Sissyhood 

is the ability to be lost. 

So lost in beauty, and gentleness 

that you forget who you are where you are when you are.

This done without effort. For Queers it just happens.

In most boys, and men it's beaten out of them. 

It's gone.
However with us it's different. 

It's who we are. 

Threaten us beat us all you want.

 We don't lose it we won't change can't change.

The Sky will always be beautiful to us, and we will always say so. 

We will always be taken up, and lost in it.

I wonder how many Sissies 

have been martyred for loving the Sky. 

For loving Color Sweetness Gentleness.

We live. We continue. We always will.

We'll always be here.

As long as there is a sky to love we remain.

 "...fall into the sky"

It's good for a church to have an open roof. 

Makes it easier for the Angels to get in. 

When I was little I thought that during service 

the church would lift up to into the sky, and float in Heaven.

I really believed this. 

When the organ really went to town, and the choir was going nuts. 

I believed I could feel the actual building heaving up into the sky.

Perhaps carried by Angels.

At the time I also believed that I could fly. 

As I've mentioned here. 

I thought I could perch on my window sill leap, and fly. 

Fly to the tree outside of my bedroom.  

I was convinced I had the power. Faith is a serious thing.

Btw I bet I could'a flown

I'll bet kids fly, and perform all manner of Miracles.

Mostly they don't tell.

 They know we've stopped believing in Majik.

 "...real"

To make dreams

and

Majik Real.

"...life, and times"

Interesting how some things just stay with you. Every year on my birthday. Ma would take me to Times Square to see a show. I dragged her to some weird flicks. One time we saw “Mothra”. There she is above. ‘Went a few rounds with Godzilla in her time. My ma not a Nippon monster fan didn’t get it. Outside the the theater she asked if I was sure this was the right movie. 

All this was before 42nd Street went to hell,…then came back as Disneyland East. Thanks to COVID/Delta collapsed local economies, and violence. It’s going to hell once more. Stay tuned it’ll be back. It always comes back.

But I digress.

So after watching Mothra raise all kinds of hell in Tokyo. There we were in front of the Times Building. The lit up electric ticker telling the world Telstar was up. It said,…“TV From Space!” There was too. Introduced by JFK his own self,…the first international TV via com-sat beaming fuzzy stuff from Paris. Back then such things were front page news. My folks were seriously impressed. Com'on to them Lindberg crossing the Atlantic was still recent news.

That reminds of the time my dad took me to the Museum of Natural History over on Central Park west. Besides meeting that great Blue Whale for the first time. We took in a big exhibit about Sputnik. This just after it went up. Dad was a space fan, and would take my brother me, and pals over to the Planetarium. This followed by hot dogs, and fries,…ya know the kind in the paper conical cup. I can still smell the salty grease. …now I’m hungry. 

Me I wanted to be an Astronaut, and a Fireman. …at the same time. Dad approved. I also wanted to be a Nun a Geisha, and a Cowboy. Eh,…mixed feelings from dad on some of these. Still he thought it cool when I became a kind of remote Astronaut. This when I would take satellite data feeds as a radio engineer. To my old man’s relief that Nun Geisha Cowboy business didn’t pan out.  “Geisha Samurai Cowboys”. There’s a movie with sequels in that somewhere. Such a life.