tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post5999262256195148137..comments2024-02-24T20:34:44.520-05:00Comments on Queer New York: Perry Brass: Lost Gay New York: The Sloan House YMCA and the Old Vic barTony Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10091330901996916966noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post-18488698889849544692010-10-09T11:42:17.130-04:002010-10-09T11:42:17.130-04:00i love the stories. well done. i lived at the sloa...i love the stories. well done. i lived at the sloane house from 1982 to 1983 and led a gay life in the west village and every once in a while in the sloane house showers. during this period i enjoyed slumming it (and it WAS a slum then)in nearby times square. sex and drugs. dangerous and naughty. a risky blast for a connecticut kid. i was in and out of all the gay theaters of that time. then moved to the east village nearby the block you describe and with the same aesthetic. i enjoy this blog! - bobby cormierbobby cormierhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11988312012607751900noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post-65872107081972813042010-06-18T21:46:13.947-04:002010-06-18T21:46:13.947-04:00The answer to that is, yes, I did go to that theat...The answer to that is, yes, I did go to that theatre. It was quite something. There was so much dope-smoking going on it's a wonder the balcony didn't levitate. They had fantastic movies, ones you could not see uptown. Sometimes though they simply showed movies like "Fantasia," that were "trip movies." That term in itself is a blast from the past. <br /><br />A wonderful friend, a reader, Dr. Kenneth Dobson, sent this comment to me, and has allowed me to forward it to readers of Lost Gay New York. <br /><br />"Your stories are evocative. They draw things out of the recesses of a reader's memory. Some of those things aren't even really in there to begin with. I was thinking as I read, that in the 1960s I was somewhat intimate with the streets and neighborhoods of Chicago. But I was always an outsider. I didn't do bars, I didn't stay at the YMCA. I was a farm boy living tentatively as a student and part-time social worker in the city. I was in the city but not of the city. You and I were different that way. Then I was thinking as I read, that I wonder if I could write about my life like you did, evocatively. But I didn't have a life. I was in denial about life. I had something that was a mirage of life, a fantasy that passed as real, but flitted away when real farm-boy lusts and cravings were aroused. So I'd have to write about NOT having a life, or write a novel. And my writing professor always insisted we write about what we know about. So even my novel would have to be about not having a real life.<br /><br />"That's what your story evoked in me. Not disappointment, though. I am not disappointed not to have been in NYC until about twice, for one day at a time, in the summer of 1965. I was on my way to Thailand. And that was the beginning of a life. That is something I could write about, and I have. I need to get it out and look it over."Perry Brasshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14750213993334812556noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post-18116075481787831232010-06-18T21:00:25.589-04:002010-06-18T21:00:25.589-04:00Please add tags to this post to include it in the ...Please add tags to this post to include it in the series. I just linked it in a comment on Joe.My.God. (More people need to be reading this.)Birdiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12852713057094279347noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post-88208832851394727282010-06-16T22:50:48.457-04:002010-06-16T22:50:48.457-04:00Loved these stories. Keep em coming. I think the S...Loved these stories. Keep em coming. I think the Sloan House is talked about in the "Gay New York" book. Did you ever visit the Charles Theater on East 12th and Avenue B?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post-79716075054604933232010-06-16T12:20:40.365-04:002010-06-16T12:20:40.365-04:00Ah yes, the days when "Living at the Y" ...Ah yes, the days when "Living at the Y" really meant something.DavidEhrensteinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11016905507543736049noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post-59770743981311270442010-06-16T12:08:59.456-04:002010-06-16T12:08:59.456-04:00I was on E 9th between C & D (1968-70) It was...I was on E 9th between C & D (1968-70) It was as as you described 11th. And the "mafia" was protective of me in gay bars.Pat Maxwellnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post-35340178531373901532010-06-16T12:05:04.054-04:002010-06-16T12:05:04.054-04:00You've done the impossible: make me long to be...You've done the impossible: make me long to be slightly older (albeit briefly) so I might have sampled these places myself! Thanks, Perry.Mark S. Kinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13831209087038799336noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post-73307176648629137112010-06-16T11:22:12.396-04:002010-06-16T11:22:12.396-04:00I lived briefly on E. 3rd, between C and D, during...I lived briefly on E. 3rd, between C and D, during the period when gentrification hit it like a freight train. When I moved in the crack and heroin dealers still ruled the streets, though they were always gracious when I politely declined their offers. When I moved out nine months later, twee little restaurants and high rises filled with million-dollar condos had begun springing up like mushrooms. It's great fun getting your perspective on the same neighborhood. And your sketch of the Old Vic is fascinating. Funny to think of the Mafiosi looking out for 'the boys' like that.Patrickhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10556860299477514075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958152521039947777.post-8616122746537262762010-06-15T13:41:41.229-04:002010-06-15T13:41:41.229-04:00I loved the Sloane House. You could roam all the f...I loved the Sloane House. You could roam all the floors, and a shoe wedged in a doorway meant the occupant of the room was receptive to visitors. If what was going on in the showers on one floor was not particularly interesting, you could visit any other floor.Tony Adamshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10091330901996916966noreply@blogger.com