(As I once again endure the wrath of yet another hurricane, this one the closest of the three and damaging some of my stuff, (broke my fence and put a tree in my pool giving the gator easy access to my yard and dog he views as lunch), I think about the mortality of my life and the missed opportunities I let slip by. I must make amends before I am swept away – must apologize to all I have wronged, to all I have disrespected, to all whose devotion and purpose I have doubted. I must apologize to HER – I know SHE reads all the stories despite the fact she hasnt written lately. But SHE will, I feel it. I must tell her I am sorry for doubting HER willingness to come back, tell her I am sorry for believing that SHE left only me – I am a selfish person–just another residual affect of this uncontrollable yet delicious addiction. SHE knows about the OTHER ONE and I believe SHE would approve because SHE has read the OTHERs stories and SHE likes the OTHER as well, as do so many of you. SHE knows I will come back, come crawling back when SHE returns. I dont care if SHE wont take me back, I will still read HER, I will still thank her for making the fool I am, I have become because of HER. The storm is relentless, blowing my neighbors awning into my driveway – ***** just blow it into the pool, everything else is in there. Relentless, blowing, pounding, driving, wind and rain – – relentless like my obsession, driving me, pounding me, blowing me away.)






Despite the fact that it was mid-July, the evening temperatures were mild and a cool breeze made sitting outside the camper quite enjoyable. We arrived in Vancouver two days ago and set up shop at the Burnaby Cariboo RV park just outside the city.

The place may have been a recreational vehicle park but its amenities featured all the comforts of a fine hotel including an indoor pool, Jacuzzi, showers, laundry and organized activities for the long term visitors. I was quite content sitting in the lawn chair, looking at the stars in the crystal clear night sky, smoking some weed and reminiscing about the trip.

Dr. Faith Goodman had accepted my invitation to join Shorts and me after our little emotional confrontation outside the S.O.P. diner in North Carolina. Aside from the passionate kiss we shared that day, the good doctor never made another advance contending that the trip was not about me, her or us and that our focus had to be Shorts health. And seeing that she was not going to be a one night ***** for me, I never pursued her.

So over the next month and a half I learned everything I possibly could about Dr. Faith as we spent many hours a day chatting, laughing, discussing and just getting to know each other. The woman had purpose – I was consumed with envy at her passion for her work and dedication to her patients. She was awesome, she was a stud and I was totally and hopelessly in love, a mental mess, a frickin fool for sure not willing to admit any emotion other than my concern for Trey. Ditto from the doc. She knew everything she needed to know about me yet never touched on the subject of us as if there ever were an US.

The campgrounds recreation committee was sponsoring a dance so nearly everyone, including Trey and the doc were at the club house partying a way. I was more than happy to get stupid and recapture some of the moments of the trip.

After agreeing to join me and Trey instead of following us, which by the way, Trey was NOT amused by his fathers antics nor impressed with the docs credentials. In fact they really didnt get along until after our third Broadway show while in NYC. And then they bonded like glue to paper, two peas in the pod, a couple of nearly weds – however you want to describe their tight and growing tighter relationship.

Dr. Faith left her car in storage in North Carolina and made herself right at home as she boarded the L train taking on driving, cooking and entertainment duties in addition to her responsibility to Shorts. Out next stop was the Big Apple – Shorts had friends to see, Doc had clinics to visit which left me and Smack to reach some kind of acceptable relationship and explore the city on our own. We left the camper at the long term parking at JFK and stayed at the Y — mingling with the common folk. We took in three Broadway shows CHICAGO, THE PRODUCERS, AND LE CAGE AUX FOLLIES – all the while Trey and the doc becoming a regular dynamic duo.

I wasnt jealous of the blossoming relationship between Shorts and the Doc but I was definitely feeling something – more like relief. I love watching her touch and talk and take care of him– he — content and I — the silent approving observer.

Smack was beginning to sense some behavioral changes in Trey as well, and I think he knew he had better cozy up and endear himself to me or else he would be without someone to love. His episodes of cooking with gas were running on empty as he decided to behave. We were becoming as close as the doc and her patient.

The next few stops through Ohio and Michigan proved uneventful – visiting friends and family along the way. I was amazed that the doc knew as many people as Trey as we traveled the country. She was awesome.

Just when we thought the trip couldnt be any more pleasant especially beginning each day with the Pledge to the Music and enjoying FAN FIC stories 24 / 7, we were headed to St. Louis where Trey was going to perform with some of his good friends at a local drag show. The doc was unabashedly excited about seeing Trey in a show other than his signature Shrimp Fried Rice performance, but her anticipation turned to anxiety as Treys condition worsened without warning.

He was supposed to be at the club around 4:00 but when Faith went to wake him from his afternoon nap he wouldnt respond. With controlled panic, she called 9-1-1 and alerted them to Shorts HIV status. The hospital was prepared when we arrived and he was treated with drugs and received a blood transfusion. Within 24 hours Trey was awake, lucid and ready to depart.

The word of his condition spread rapidly through the community and I swear every frickin drag queen in St Louis came to visit. With the permission of the hospital, the girls planned to put on a show for the patients many of whom never saw a ***** man let alone one who dressed as a woman and lipsynched words to music of the 80s.

Shorts was in no condition to perform but he put his production skills to work and managed to throw together quite a revue. I got goosebumps, I laughed, I cried, I sang along, and I watched the patients hoot and holler in appreciation – I love the 80s show – it was ***** awesome. I stayed in the background and watched the doc interact with patients and queens she had never met. As so often on this trip I was humbled by her manner and genuine concern for humanity. She made me want to be a better person.

Treys little vacation within a vacation set us back nearly a week on our journey. We all decided it was best to forego the California leg of the trip and head straight to Vegas then on to Seattle. With Shorts help and his little black book we sent out invitations to all the west coast people we were going to visit. An impromtu party was being held at the Flamingo resort in Vegas over a three day span – giving everyone enough time to make arrangements for one last visit with Shorts.

By the time we arrived in Vegas it was the end of June. We had two weeks to party here, head to Seattle then on to Vancouver and prepare for the auditions. For those who showed up each night in Vegas we had a huge dinner party then on to group gambling and finally all night dancing and one of the ***** clubs. I dont know how Shorts was making it – I was completely exhausted after each event, but completely at peace knowing he was in good hands – hands I wouldnt mind being in myself someday.

I lit another joint and called to Smack to join me under the stars. That mutt is such a ***** that he likes to spend time in the air-conditioned camper as if he were some type of royalty deserving of special treatment. My final thoughts of the trip were nothing special as our jaunt through Seattle culminated in a beach party in a small resort town just south of the city. All those we saw that day came dressed in 60s style bathing suits as we had a little theme party –Beach Blanket Bingo — some even dressed as Frankie and Annette and as usual it was awesome.

Within minutes of Smack coming to sit with me I heard the sound of many drunken voices trying to sing Kung Fu Fighting as the park party was breaking up and inebriated visitors stumbled home. Of course among those off-key crooners was the doc and Shorts and all I could do was roll my eyes and shake my head as they fell over each other arriving at the campsite. Sitting on the ground, covered in dirt not even trying to get up they lay there and continued . . .

Everybody was kung shoe biting, those ***** were fat as lightning, the two idiots tried to sing and laughed at their lyric faux pas ! I had experienced this type of situation before and I gave them a stern warning . . .

Stay away from me you two mental midgets. The last thing I want is to be the middle of a moron sandwich.

Of course my words fell on deaf ears as the two sots struggled to their feet, staggered over to the lawn chair and hugged me – one on each side each breathing some horrific left over alcoholic beverage breath on me.

Their heads were buried on both sides of my neck and each one talked while the other talked.

We love you Beach, Shorts slobbered down the front of my shirt. *****, I knew this would happen !

Yea, Beach, we love you, the doc slurred. You shoulda been there. We sang, we danced we sang, wewe we

You sang? I asked sarcastically.

Yea, we sang, we danced, we had a blast, Beach. We missed you, I missed you. I really wish you would have come.
The docs declaration, recited in a drunken a stupor or not, made me uncomfortable. I stood up abruptly, leaving them both to fall once again into the dirt..

I looked down at the two stooges who continued to laugh at themselves as if they were the last comic standing or in this case the last comic falling.

Im glad you two had a good time, I really am. But do either of you realize that Shorts and I have to be at the sound stage for the casting call tomorrow morning at 8:00 am? Do you? And its (~~I look at my watch~~) its 3:00 am now and it takes 45 minutes to get there? Is anyone here going to be able to crawl out of bed in an less than 3 hours??

Again my words fell on the deaf ears of the singing, mumbling knuckleheads on the ground. Again I shook my head and rolled my eyes and went inside the camper determined to get at least a few hours of sleep.

No sooner had I set the alarm and crawled into the bunk than the doc pushed opened the camper door, slamming it against the side of the trailer and nearly falling over as it swung back and knocked her in the head.. I stifled a laugh and pretended to be sleeping.

She swayed as she walked and landed on the edge of my bed.

Move over, she said. Its too high to for me to get on the top bunk. Besides, I might barf trying to get up there.

(~~~*****~~~~~ This was not good)

I rolled over in the small bunk onto my side and faced the wall, holding my breath. Still in her dirt stained clothes she rolled up behind me, draped her arm over my waist, molded her body to mine, and nuzzled her face in the back of my neck. I couldnt have been more rigid if I were dead and rigormorticed.

Dont forget to wake me up so I can drive you guys to the auditions. Good luck, babe. Youll be fine. I do love you, you know. I know you know I do.

And with that I remained motionless for the next three hours staring at the camper wall in front of me and wondered if Shorts was still sleeping outside in the dirt. . . .


TBC . . .