On Notes from a True Gay Recluse
In which The Gay Recluse corresponds with Harry, an 80-year-old autistic gay man.
Herewith, for those who asked (and for those who did not):
March 24: It is none my business to know, but! My curiosity is tweaked. Who are you? Have you posted something somewhere to give a more detailed bio? or do I have to continue to read between the lines for any crumbs of information? FYI i am an 80 year old autistic gay man who enjoys reading your piece every day. And yes, life is still fun?
March 26: Hello and thanks for the reply to my inquiry about you. I am very favorably impressed with what am finding. Music, words and what else? It all seems to add up to a pretty happy man. Also of note: Stephen must be good guy. And no, I don’t know any literary agents! You mentioned your cats; Baby Sadie cat was my first love and then later, with Ernest, came MARY cat. sigh sigh. I am OK with Washington Heights but for one teeny tiny problem: where does one shop up there around the W.181 stop? and as for the GW bridge; I am very familiar with same having walked, biked and driven across how many times? and visited the little lighthouse and other points of interest. I owned a house in Fort Lee and was able to walk across to the subway; nice. Ah yes, how many years ago was that? My entire career with was with CBS first on Madison Ave and then Grand Central Station, where CBS had MANY facilities, and later on W. 57th. How time flies when one is having fun? ummmmm maybe. Harry
April 1: I had my own little ‘joke’ on this day 67 years ago; daddy was found cold in the garage with the engine still running. I failed to mourn. I was 14. Somehow I continue to survive until today, just short of my 81st, when as I look around I discover that I am alone. All my peers, buddies, companions, lovers have bitten the dust. Not a particularly enviable position but I remain grateful for small favors. One still has oodles of memories to console with and I, with any luck at all, will continue to survive until that big KITTY LITTER box in the sky requests my final appearance. What brought me to you was your nom de plume for I am my own gay recluse. Many years of self and professional therapy and introspection have finally put a name on moi; Asperger’s syndrome personified. Welcome to the club! You, I, have lots of company, To be gay AND autistic is a real problem !!!!! Oh yeah… I am not a resident of Washington Heights but rather am alive and well in Fort Lauderdale. I am somewhat familiar with 181 street due to the fact that ERNEST, my companion of many years, had taken an apartment there on Riverside, just short of that wall which fell not too long ago and which same buried many cars for a while.
Be of good cheer; it could and will get worse but still be FUN. Harry
April 1: I have no qualms about you doing whatever with my notes. Have a happy day….. harry
April 2: You, you the birthday boy, have failed to inform his vast audience as to how he is to celebrate??? to mark his 40th. I remember mine well. A new RED Saab, (that is an auto to you subway bound people) and a season rental at Cherry Grove.
Inquiring people want to KNOW! harry
Filed under: Gay, Letters, Memory, Pessimism, Philosophers, Resignation, Ruins, The Gay Recluse, Washington Heights | Leave a Comment
Tags: Asperger Syndrome, Autism, Birthdays, Cherry Grove, Fort Lauderdale, Gay, Gay Seniors, George Washington Bridge, Little Red Lighthouse, Riverside Drive, Saab