Dead Robot The space between gay and straight, stupid and smart.

You Think You Know Someone

Going through my father's stuff has been a rollercoaster ride, to say the least. I've spent a lot of time mulling over pictures of my father posing with friends (mostly I can identify them but there are some head scratchers) and suddenly I come across a picture of my father and myself. At 21, I'm scared shitless because I'm hours away from taking my first ever flight. To London. First time away. I'm looking to the sky, mugging/not really mugging, as my head rests upon my father's chest. His chin is back and he's looking down at me as if to say "Get the hell off me".

Bless him!

The Bag mystery has been somewhat decoded. Brother Dan came to me while he was going through photos too and found a picture of a blond man sitting in a smartly decorated room. On the back was written "Johnathan" in Da's hand. Dan asked me who this good looking man was. I started to explain:

"That was Johnathan. He was a retail manager for the Polo/Ralph Lauren Yorkville store back in the 80s. I'm not sure how Da and he met but they were good friends. Johnathan was Dad's first friend to die of AIDS..." and I trail off, diving into the pool of memory.

Of course! The contents of The Bag was mostly Johnathan's! I remembered a story Dad told me of having to go into Johnathan's apartment to remove some of the more racier things before family came into the apartment. Dad must have kept most of it for himself.

It doesn't explain the slight, but still quite noticeable odour of pot that permeates from The Bag when you open it. At 78, however, I don't think he's pulling a Mrs Madrigal, but there it is, none the less.

A new mystery has arose since The Bag came into the light. Deep within Da's photos, he has about 30 pictures taken from a Kodak110 camera from his buying trip around the world, an extended business trip he took in the very early 80s to go to various fashion outlets to see what was new and then taking those ideas to factories in Asia. Yay captialism! The pictures are all of monuments and travel icons but with no people in them - Da was alone on the trip. However, in Paris, there is one picture of him at an outdoor cafe, a beer sits near him, he stares back at the camera with the light in his eyes. Who took it? A sympathetic waiter? A fellow traveller he struck up a conversation with?

Billy - Click to Enlarge

Two pictures after that I come across a strikingly handsome man. Strikingly handsome. Like, "whoa, Dad! Please let him be my new mom!" handsome. Who is he? Dad never mentioned him. On the back Da has wrote:  "Billy - Florence 1982". I show the picture around the family. Dan being closer to Da's homosexuality around that time (moreso than I was - I hadn't come out yet) didn't recall any stories from Dad regarding European romps from Dad's trip. This "Billy" is...

He's...?

Okay here's the crazy part.

He is someone my father met (and I have a solid gut feeling about this) and fell in love with instantly. There's only one picture of this mystery man, but I have a feeling that any more pictures of Billy would have sent up alarms regarding my father's homosexuality. Which is probably why there isn't any more - "Oh some guy I met at the hotel bar..." etc. One would have to do. The fact that this is the only "human" shot in the pack, other than the cafe shot of himself, suggest to me some sort of reverence. Some importance. "Billy's" half turn and relaxed manner suggests that there was more than just a "Vi prego diretto alla discoteca"

Of course I'm speculating wildly here. For all I know this could be the taxi driver Da snapped between a hotel and airport. Or tour guide. Or he's a business contact. But I'm finding some odd comfort in knowing that Dad had met someone that he shared a meaningful, relaxed moment with on that long lonely trip across the world.

That, or he got laid.

Fairly Odd Parents

Sassy and Auggie are restless. All through pre-dinner oos and aahs, they would twist in my brother's arms and gurgle and poop. Much like any 5 week old baby twin girls would do. Funny thought, (to me or any other sci fi geek, anyway): tiny infants cry a lot like the chest bursting Alien. Shrill, sharp air across munchkin sized fresh vocal chords. Eeeerrrriiieeeeeah!

I digress.

My brother Dan, his husband, Mark and SharkBoy and I have been invited over for a small dinner at my other brother, Mike and Morwyn's house. Because Dan and Mark have to go back to England in a couple days we probably all won't be in the same room again like this for a long time, so despite all of us being bone dead tired (Mike and Morwyn especially - twins!) we gather.

I can't explain the fatigue I'm feeling while nursing a beer on my brother's couch. Work wasn't so much a drain, as it was a challenge. One manager came to my cube and wasn't aware of my father's passing. He cheerfully asked if my "time away" was fun, assuming I was on holiday. I didn't bother correcting him. The owner of the company stuck his head over my cube wall and offered bizarre condolences that only he could offer. By the end of the day I had explained and retold a family-guarded version of the last week's events to about a half dozen people.

The girls are fussing. They're up, they're down, they're crying, they're quiet. Dan has Sassy in his arms and is successfully, slowly getting her quieted down. Auggie is another matter, she's found her voice. Mike and Morwyn are snatching food between baby yelps. The conversation becomes pointed:

Mike: (while walking around, shifting baby in arm to shoulder to arm) This is kind of funny...
Auggie: Reeeeearrrrrh!
Morwyn: Almost ironic... (she's huffing food down so she can get back to being a mom)
Sassy: eeeeemmf.
Mike: Yeah because here they are being all loud and stuff...
Auggie: Eeeeh.
Morwyn: ...And we were hoping to ask you to be their godparents.

I sit in stunned silence. I look at Dan across the table. He's smiling. I look at SharkBoy and he's got the exact look on his face as I do.

Wut?

Morwyn: What do you think, SharkBoy? Is this something...?
Auggie: eeEEEEeee!

We just sat there. We didn't look at each other. Someone expresses their desire for you to be the responsible guardian of their children in case of something awful happening and we just sat there.

I learn later that SharkBoy thought my brother and sister in law were addressing Dan and I. Hence the lack of reaction. When he realized they were including him, he was stunned.

My excuse was that I had just gone through a week of crying. There was nothing left in the well. Not even for tears of joy. There was nothing I could muster to show my appreciation, my joy. I just sat there. We both did. To Mike and Morwyn I am sure it looked like we were hedging on the question.

DeadRobot: (pause) I. Say... Yes.
SharkBoy: Yes!

We're sharing duties with Morwyn's sister, who arrived later and when told, had a much more animated reaction (tears, hugs, peals of laughter, etc). I saw this and thought instantly, Oh crap, we didn't express any kind of joy...!

In the cab home, SharkBoy voices what I'm thinking: "I'm really touched. But I just couldn't get excited when I realized they were talking to me! Not that I don't want to do it, it's just a bomb after a week of emotional carpet bombing."

"Don't feel guilty. I'm sure they understand."

Later, in bed, we talk about bringing the girls to DisneyWorld. I fall asleep in mid-sentence.