Maybe it’s all the meditations on time floating around. Or maybe it’s because I’ve finally had all my collections under one roof for about a year now. I can meet the taste and dreams and obsessions of many more earlier selves. With the perspective of what I would have considered an old guy back when, I can see I was preparing for words that never happened, for futures that never came to pass. I think the saddest anticipation that gradually fades away (though not extinguished even now) is that if people are given freedom of thought and experience, they will want to share the liberation, spread it around. In 2017 I understand that people are every bit as much likely to hoard freedom — liberation for me, but not for thee.
A couple milestones on the path:
Disco Demolition Night — “this is unbelievable,” I thought at the time. “Don’t these soused morons understand that this is exactly the bigoted response rock-and-roll-haters had 25 years ago?” (P.S.: As a baseball promotion, I argue it was a disaster-bust — because almost nobody remembers it was intended to be a promo event.)
Meeting a very intelligent and art-savvy adult gay man who averred: “The closet is closed for good. Gay men will never go back into hiding.” He considered it a key triumph in his life. At the same time he was thoroughly racist and even a bit anti-Semitic. Saw no contradiction.