1969 - May

May 28th

This entry definitely won't be an expression of creative genius. I'm writing super-slow to get used to this new FLAIR pen and I'm concentrating too hard on my choice of words for this to be entirely open, honest and unaffected. Call this an introduction, if you will. (I absolutely love this [turqoise-blue] color. My purpose in writing this Thought Book: I lack the discipline to keep up a daily diary and besides, with my calendar, I don't think that I need to. However, my feelings and beliefs are changing quickly these days and I feel that I can get a better understanding of myself and my motives by keeping track of them. I must admit that Mr. Terry's "thought package" first gave me the idea, especially after Don began his own. But it was Millie Rahn who finally convinced me.

So the possibility of working once again at Rosewood looms on the horizon. It's a job, with money, and in the field of mental health. I don't have to live out there, but I still dunno. Last summer was rewarding, but rough. Do I have the fortitude for another 7 weeks?...

This evening was fantastic. Linda was over, Karen came up and we had the most marvelous time reminiscing about Campfield, Sudbrook and the gang. Christ, would you believe -- 12 years gone?! It felt great to sit on the porch, picking the bushes and watch the years slip away (corn). Seriously, it makes you think. What will it be like, what will we be like when we come back a year from now? Like Karen says, at college you're a rubber band being pulled in different ways...When we come back will we be able to talk to one other? Childhood, youth, slipping through our fingers -- remember, remember, remember. We laugh when we look back, but we cry, too, trying to hold onto that slender thread. The ties are  being broken now -- high school, leaving friends -- the final big break for me will come with moving. Ah, the links will be broken and we must move ahead. The pain. Like the infiniteness of the universe, it's impossible to comprehend in its entirety. Take a little bit at a time. So much. It's whirling in my mind. Must go to sleep.

We'd be moving to the newly-built apartment complex, Stevenson Village, during the summer.


May 29th

Slight headache. Drowsiness. The wind is soft in the trees outside of homeroom. Hippies 3 just entered the building -- bouncy, intense, bored. SOUND is on (8:20). A song, "Where Have All the Flowers Gone" to commemorate Memorial Day tomorrow... LOVE.

SOUND was the morning HS radio news show produced by Mr. Terry and Co.

M&C [Modern & Contemporary History] -- my mood has changed (lighter, brighter). Jackie cheers me up as usual, J. L. still repulses me. Vietnam -- Mr. Kelly is talking but my mind is tired. Traffic drones in the background, relaxing. Oops - I just had a wave of faintness, probably because my stomach is empty. Mmmn -- chocolate eclair. Some boys look marvelously tough in cut-offs. I enjoy the discussions in here, but boy will it be a relief to get away from Barbara and her "fountains of knowledge". It's probably jealousy, altho I'm not actively jealous of Steve and Winton. With them I feel more admiration. Perhaps it's because I'm "closer" to Barbara (irony). Or the seating arrangement where the 3 of us are in a row of own own with attention frequently focused on us because of Barb and Judy.

But next year -- a fresh start. As they say, for better or worse, when you go to college you leave your old labels behind. Judy just sneezed and without thinking I said, "bless you". She ignored me of course, and now I feel hostile again and angry at myself for even saying such a silly little thing to her. BITCH.

I have absolutely no memory of why Judy and I weren't speaking. She was mad at Don and I for some reason and stayed so until the Yearbook signing at the end of the summer. Then she simply just started talking to us again; I think it was about our monkeys.

Revelation - the lady from Planned Parenthood speaks next Monday. I've been a part of the fuss that's been raised to get her here [as part of Forum], but now I realize that I'm not so all-fired anxcious to hear her. Are these my hidden inhibitions speaking? I'm interested, but perhaps the actual live display and exhibition of contraceptives poses a larger "embarrassing" threat than a film. I don't know.

Quote by Mr. Brown: "There's a limit to how much you can love someone besides yourself."

Al's report on racism and sex makes me think. He said that all white women subconsciously desire to be raped by a black man. I don't know about that. But I know that recently I've thought about the possibility of having a close Negro friend next year, especially a male, and that this wish may have sexual overtones. Not that I have any intentions of deliberately dating a guy because he's black, or of hopping into bed with him. I just feel super-liberal and even kind of excited after that black guy in the car with the smile and the peace sign [a new neighbor]. As far as he's concerned, I would also like to speak to him because he's just returned from Vietnam.

First, Jackie, then Karen, now Millie. I'm really learning the meaning of friendship; friendship based  not on common friends and activities, but on trust, understanding, identification and common beliefs.

7th Period -- Library. It's so damned hot and sticky. The air is so oppressive and heavy you can feel it. I was just working on Totem lists down in the Conference Room with Judy. Just the 2 of us. Stilted, almost wooden conversation, pertaining only to the book. I still feel very queer speaking to her, especially when we're alone. Very sad. My prediction remains the same -- no change in Judy's attitude towards me at least until next year. Goal -- to look at a black man and black woman and see them not as black, but as individual persons, regardless of color. Until I can totally erase my color consciousness, I can't honestly ever say that I'm completely unprejudiced.


when two lovers touch hands
they touch
their two hands
they touch their one hand
they touch
the space between.

when two lovers kiss lips
they kiss
their two lips
they kiss their one lip
they kiss the space between.

when two lovers hold each other
they hold
their two selves
they hold
their one self
they hold
the space between.

-- donovan






May 30th - Memorial Day

I really feel good this morning; the tension and irritability of last nite has disappeared. That was quite an evening -- I felt like climbing the walls to the point that I couldn't even sit still long enough to concentrate on writing. It's a pretty morning...the sky's perhaps not so blue as it was a few hours ago but the birds are still chirping like crazy. I'm really looking forward to this afternoon and cooking dinner for the boys with Jackie. I'd love to have beef stroganoff and something gooey for dessert. I only hope that my few meager dollars are enough for the groceries and my ticket to see "Monterey Pop" at Center Stage tonight. Schlenger's not exactly over-abundantly wealthy right now. The mercury's supposed to hit 95+ today. I hope that I don't wilt in the kitchen. The entire world seems to have gone to the ocean this weekend. I bet that icy spray feels might good.

"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own."     -- Robert A. Heinlein, Stranger in a Strange Land

 I can't believe that after next week, Don and I will be able to be with each other every nite. After the endless week-long separations of this past year, it seems positively unreal!

I've just spent the last 20 minutes at the bathroom window, lusting. Ben Stombler is stretched out on his back lawn, sunbathing. What a bod!

Monterey Pop -- exciting camera angles, fantastic shots. Unbelievable. What will our children say when they see this film? Simon & Garfunkel photographed in red haze - beautiful...Mama's & Papas - classy...Janis Joplin is a soulful blues singer but I don't go for her shrieking...Jimi Hendrix has mellowed since 1967. True, he still makes love to his guitar but it's less explicit...Ravi Shakar - WOW. I felt especially good with Don this evening -- exhuberant, yet peaceful. Anticipation of some beautiful nites to come.



Jackie -- our relationship is growing more solid, less philosphical and out-of-touch with day-to-day life. As I know now to expect, the god has clay feet -- in the form of a certain irritating nervousness. But this is good and natural in a close, concrete and lasting friendship. I only hope that it doesn't prove to be "too" irritating. The dinner -- disappointing in its "unorganization" but a success otherwise. If I may say so myself, I'm damn good at seasoning steaks. I really like Mike and I especially enjoy when he makes a harmless, amusing reference to sex or a related subject. I like when he and Don laugh privately or are in some other way linked, simply because of their maleness. I love Don and life right now. Boy, do I.

We never knew that Jackie had Tourette's. They didn't know what it was back then. The "nervousness" that I wrote about was actually her experience of the tics that are part of the syndrome. I certainly would have had a different take on the situation had I understood what she was dealing with.

Interestingly, this is my first mention of "organization" in my diaries.  ;-)


May 31st

Helped Don move out of Jennings [his freshman JHU dorm] this afternoon. It was rather quiet there, almost depressing. I think that we were both experiencing nostalgia as we couldn't help remembering the wonderful hours we spent in his room. I even missed Sandy's [his roommate's] garbage and protest posters. The room looked so empty and desolate. I forgot to take a last look being that I'll never see it again. And the school year at Hopkins has ended...

Don and I half-convinced Mom and Dad that they should see Monterey Pop, and if they finish dinner in time they'll try and catch the 8:00 show. If it amazed me, I wonder what it'll do to them! I'm glad they're at least willing to try it only I hope that they won't feel too out of place because of their age. At any rate, I'm proud of 'em.

Forgot to mention the sweetness of the honeysuckles last nite. The scent was so beautiful and overpowering that you could almost become drunk with it. I remember tasting them years ago...I love egg salad and wind chimes. I also love lemon-lime flavoring...It bugs me when Mom calls black people, colored. I know that this is because of the way she was brought up and that even I used to do it, but it makes me feel uncomfortable after being in Mr. Brown's class [It was his wife I had for Geometry the previous year]...I never appreciated the talent of the "late, great" Otis Redding until last night. it's a shame he had to die...Damn those real estate brokers! I'm mad as hell about those people having to traipse through here all over again. Don says that Lochearn has been wonderfully successful in convincing people not to panic and sell. As a result, the neighborhood is becoming integrated without either block-busting or mass migration...Many thoughts are coming to me now, but I must go. Sue's boyfriend, Brent, is interesting. I have to decide why.