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About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 5, 1997)
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VALID M O N T H O F A U G U S T WHOLE HOUSE RENTAL AVAILABLE Call for FREE sample and product mfo Discounts on multiple orders Wholesale prices amiable on request ® ‘T fù u iù u U Ìù i 0 WCea«t& by Will O ’Bryan hen I walk down the Memory reunion attendee voted Most Likely To Have Lane of my high school history, Entered Middle Age. the landmarks that guide me are With my bottle of wine, in-room iron and an the loss of virginity (both sexes), image of Jeff G.’s 1997 butt, I readied myself for Morrissey, Camel cigarettes and the lion’s den. While primping, I wondered if any being outed. In late August, a few dozen ghosts of the boys and girls I suspected of belonging to and I reunited in the Palm Room of an unnamed The Tribe would show their faces and prove me right or wrong. hotel in Clearwater, Fla., to celebrate 10 years of not keeping in touch. After checking myself in the mirror for about To the best of my memory, I hadn’t been to half an hour, I returned to the yearbook. This time I Clearwater Beach since the night of my senior ignored the photos and studied the messages people prom. As a measure of time, the hotel everyone had written: “Stay sweet.” “K.I.T.” “I’ve enjoyed went to after the prom was the site of Jessica knowing you.” Some seemingly heartfelt messages Hahn’s infamous deflowering about a year ear were signed with names I didn’t recognize. I feared lier. If you remember who she is, you’ll agree that I wouldn’t recognize third period’s best friend or it’s been a long time. some kid I ate lunch with for four years. While Jim and Jessica were speaking in By 9 pm, an hour after the “casual cocktail tongues, I was being outed. Two high-school hour”—which I paid $42 to attend—had begun, 1 chums who’d arrived to take me to the mall, or to decided it was time to show my face. Besides, the some dead-end road to wine was gone. drink beer, or some other £ I’d only made a few * v t - 4 'î adolescent diversion, rifled ■ v. steps into the Palm Room through my journals when when the hellos began. sp they had a few spare mo People came at me from ments to themselves in my all angles. My apprehen room. Perhaps in a food sion lessened in the on court, perhaps in the avo slaught of hugging. The cado green Maverick—it’s most peculiar thing was blurry— I heard the words: that, Jeff G. aside, every- “We read your journal.” one looked remarkably the Simple, straight forward, r~ \ C" same. All the familiar faces and worth a palpitation at pricked the part of my brain the time. that stored all their names Of the high school and I remembered every friends I’m still in touch one. I surprised myself. I» with. I’m the only one who _ Even more remarkable went to the reunion. My was that I didn’t have to friends assumed I must further out myself at this have a masochistic streak. I’ll grant them that I soirée. My queemess was a forgone conclusion as might have such a streak, but, as yet, it’s only far as everyone was concerned. Even people who manifested itself as a good spanking and some weren’t privy to my forced high school outing, hand-cuffery. people I’d never discussed anything of the sort My sole motivation to revisit the past was with in high school, simply knew and accepted titillating curiosity. Like wanting to see what’s that I am a fag. They were just happy to see me and under someone’s Band-Aid, I had to know what I was happy to see them. had become of these people. Florida may not have As though we shared a collective conscious a monopoly on the freakish, but it’s nearly cor ness, all conversation remained on the surface. nered the market. Accordingly, I was hoping for Chitchat masked what was really going on: Ev a twisted occasion. eryone wanted to recognize each other and use the The superior, spectator attitude I hoped to experience as a way to mark the parabola of the bring to Clearwater evaporated as does every past 10 years. Pleasant conversation rolled around thing under Florida’s melanoma-spawning sun. I while we studied each other’s faces and spent asked my mother for some Turns and a hit off her most of our intellect thinking about our memories Maalox before saying goodbye and heading off. of one another. I’d not expected to feel so anxious. By 2 am, it was all over. The evening had The reunion began as soon as I checked into passed rapidly. We’d moved from the Palm Room the hotel. At the front desk I stood in line behind to the hotel bar and closed it down. 1 went back to a man I’d known as a boy. I hadn’t heard his name my room in a daze and checked the “memory in more than ten years and 1 was sure I didn’t book” for information on the suspected queer no- remember it. I stayed behind him and he didn’t see shows. They’d all moved to either New York or me. The first potential awkward mine was avoided. Atlanta. That was all the confirmation I needed. Speaking of "behind,” he’d blossomed wonder I also went back to my room with a request fully. from an old friend, now married and a mother, to Once in my room, I ordered a bottle of wine send her copies of Just Out. She and I had worked and broke out the year book. It was time to cram. on the school paper together and she seemed The first photo I looked for was Mr. Front Desk proud that I was still working for a paper. with the blossomed behind. After returning to Portland, though, the magic Relative to his senior class photo, “Jeff G.” wore off. Her husband told her to cancel the seemed like some sort of Frog Prince. As I studied request, arguing that gay papers being sent to their more photos, I realized that either the school hired home on a military base would put their housing an awful photographer or we were actually a very status in jeopardy. Whatever. homely graduating class. My own photo looked For a few hours, it was the best of what once like a cross between Frankenstein and the lead was. I imagine even a reunion of Titanic survivors singer of The Thompson Twins. My fear was that would be as pleasant, though. All disasters— high time had been as kind to everyone as it had been school included—seem less frightening in retro to Jeff G., leaving me to win the venerable title of spect. W 4. 23> j Hi I I & M l * — ................ PLUS Redwood Cedar Fencing Decking • Windows • Doors • Custom Milling • Custom Cutting Montavilla Lumber Company 'fttoM&utMjr THettMJ 'THruUdOt^i » » Just Out on 102nd & NE Glisan 254-5571 10301 NE Glisan • Portland OR • 97220 ®