Tuesday, DECEMBER 31, 1974, the lost years, Age 25

NEW YEAR'S EVE PARTY AT CASA MARK

Thanks to the friendship of Lucy and Jill, Christmas Holidays were the most fun I had in ages.  After attending Casa Mark every Saturday in December, I enjoyed a great New Year's Eve party at Mark's house. 

As I danced the night away, I was pleased to note the improvement in my dancing.  Thanks to Mark's dance parties, I was finally getting the practice I needed.  My New Year's Resolution was to continue the Dance Project.  All I needed was just a few more months of practice. Then I would be ready to take the show on the road.  I smiled at the thought of hitting dance clubs in the Straight World in search of that missing girlfriend.  Maybe then I could forget the pain of losing Rachel.

I wasn't the only person who was happy.  Mark was ecstatic.  The Christmas Holidays had been good to Mark as well.  Just two days after I said ixnay on Mark's sleepover idea, he fell in love.  Sean, 30, was tall, handsome, and blond.  I liked Sean.  He was polite, clean cut and friendly.  Mark had chosen a guy with real style.  Sean was very special, so things progressed rapidly.  Mark was gaga over his new man.

"Sean is my best Christmas present ever!"

I was happy for Mark and I was happy for me.  I greatly preferred Mark take his interest elsewhere.  Mark was all over Sean at the New Year's Eve party.  As I watched Mark and Sean go hot and heavy, I noticed Mariah eyeing them like a hawk.  Noting she did not look happy, I wondered if Mariah was soon to be available.  Wouldn't that be nice?   Maybe I could catch her on the rebound.  However, when Mariah failed to cast an eye in my direction, I continued to keep my distance.  I had my chance.  I caught her accidentally standing under the mistletoe.  Did I dare act?  No.  Mariah was theoretically married.  It was to her to make the first move and so far she had given no indication.  Given her lack of interest, I don't know why I bothered to lust for her.  Probably because I had no one else to lust for.

During the party, Mark came over to talk about Sean.  Mark was horny out of his mind.  All Mark wanted to do was talk about having sex with Sean.  Good grief, I could not get Mark to shut up about the guy.  Finally I had to tell him to knock it off. 

"Mark, enough already!!  I don't want to hear this stuff.  Go talk to someone who cares."

Mark was drunk.  He tried to sit in my lap, but I pushed him off.  He laughed out loud at my obvious discomfort. 

"Don't you want to know about my love life?" 

"No, Mark, not particularly.  Don't you have anyone else you can boast to?  Why pick on me?"

"I want you to experience the thrill that you're missing.  Sooner or later I know you're going to give in."

Mark laughed again, but then he got serious for a moment.

"Listen, Rick, there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

I felt uncomfortable at the change in his tone.  "What's up?"

Casting his hand in the direction of the over-crowded living room full of writhing dancers, Mark exclaimed, "I fear my dance parties have outgrown my little house.  We moved every piece of furniture onto the porch and the lawn to make room for tonight and we are still way too crowded.  Sean and I have talked it over, so this coming Saturday, Casa Mark is moving to a new location.  First Saturday of the New Year, the group will be heading over to a gay bar called the Farmhouse.  I want you to come with us."

The Farmhouse?  Juicy and Lucy had told me about it.  This was the legendary gathering place for the sexiest gay men in Houston.  This is where a gay man went if he was looking to score.  Damn it!  This was not what I wanted to hear.  I felt secure at Casa Mark.  How about loaning me your wife instead?  How about a triumphant New Year's end to my Epic Losing Streak?  Waking up with Mariah next to me would be a very good way to celebrate the New Year.  Seeing Mariah moping over in the corner, definitely not tonight.  Oh well.

When I realized Mark had already made up his mind, my heart began to pound.  Me go to a gay bar?  I wasn't happy about this development.  Since I had never been to a gay bar, I had no idea what to expect.  As always, I was scared of the unknown.  In particular, I was afraid of being attacked.  Or discovering I was secretly gay after all.  I was very intimidated.  At that moment, I thought of Rachel.  I recalled how Rachel had fearlessly agreed to go down to Galveston Beach with a bunch of gay people she had never met.  Rachel wasn't afraid of anything and here I was scared of my own shadow.  It wasn't like I would be going by myself.  I knew Mark and I knew Juicy and Lucy.  Maybe I needed to take a risk for a change.  So with a deep sigh I gave in.

"Okay, Mark, I will go, but only on one condition.  You need to drive me there, walk in with me, and promise you will stay by my side throughout the night.  If you abandon me, I will never forgive you."

How absurd!  I had just asked a man six inches shorter and a hundred pounds lighter to be my bodyguard.  Fortunately Mark understood what I meant.  To my relief, he answered in a semi-serious tone. 

"Of course, Rick.  I promise to protect you from everyone but myself."

I gave Mark a dirty look.  "You can do better than that.  You said you would behave from now on.  Besides, you have Sean to pester."

Mark rolled his eyes, then winked.  "Okay, okay, change that, I promise I will look out for you.  You know you can trust me, right?"

I smiled.  "I'm not so sure about that, but all right, Mark, if you say it's safe and you won't desert me, then I guess I can give it a try."

About that time, Lucy and Jill came over to grab me for more dancing.  Mark used that as an excuse to disengage and go look for Sean.  As I watched him leave, one thought lingered in my mind.  What am I getting myself into??  I had voluntarily become a Stranger in a Strange Land, but I had not counted on this.  I was in deep enough already, but things would soon be Stranger.  Much Stranger.  I was headed into the lion's den, a hotbed of gay iniquity.   Maybe I was gay, maybe I wasn't.  Pretty soon I was going to find out one way or the other.  If I did indeed have a hidden desire, I assumed it was about to be revealed on my first trip to the Farmhouse. 

Thursday, January 2, 1975, the lost years

THE NEW YEAR BEGINS

Happy New Year 1975.  Thursday, January 2, was our first day back to work.  I walked over to Mark's office for more details about the Farmhouse.  It was a new year and I was a new person.  Although I was still not dating anyone, I was in the best mood in ages.  I had finally gotten losing Rachel out of my system.  In addition, I was a feeling that my Dance Project was finally about to pay off for me in a big way.  If so, I could move onto something else, maybe think about my next career. 

Mark was in a pretty good mood himself.  Ever since Thanksgiving, Mark had been riding a hot streak.  In addition to acquiring Sean, his handsome boyfriend, his Casa Mark parties kept growing and growing.  My first clue that these parties were becoming a problem had come on New Year's Eve.  When I arrived at the party I found my favorite comfy chair moved outside to the porch along with the couch.  That helped some, but there was still barely room to dance.  People were starting to grumble.  Now that Disco music was really catching on, everyone wanted to dance. 

Although Mark's decision to move furniture out of his living room was a useful stopgap measure, the crowding was only going to get worse.  Mark was a victim of his own success.  Due to the popularity of his parties, Mark's Circle of Friends had outgrown his house.  Now it was time to make a bold move.  Since the New Year was the time for changes, Mark wanted to switch to the Farmhouse. 

I nodded.  His decision made sense.  But that didn't mean I had to be happy about it.  I did not like leaving the security of Mark's home.  In addition, I had another looming showdown to face.  It was time for the return of the River Oaks Seven. 

SATURDAY, January 4, 1975, Age 25, the lost years

BACK TO DANCE CLASS

Saturday, January 4th, 1975, was an important day.  Tonight I would be visiting the Farmhouse for the first time.  But first I had to deal with the resumption of David's Freestyle dance class.  David had canceled class in December due to the Holidays.  Apparently the society women had complained they had too many events to attend.  Today was my first class in a month.  I wondered if the River Oaks Seven would return.  Oddly enough, I hoped they would.  I wasn't finished with them yet.  I deliberately came late in order to make an entrance.  To my relief, they were waiting for me when I walked in.  Greeted by their usual look of disgust, I felt right at home.  I was proud of myself.  These women held little power over me anymore.  I was so excited to see them, I almost waved. 

To my surprise, two men and two women had joined the class.  Hmm, interesting.  I wondered if their presence would change the dynamics.  I was pleased to note the newcomers were more or less my age.  The River Oaks Seven still claimed the front row, so I joined the four newcomers in a second row behind the seven women.  To my delight, they gravitated to me for support.  This was not an accident.  I smiled at them.  That's all it took.  Now the River Oaks women had five people to hate.  Sure enough, the River Oaks women cast their dirtiest looks.  To the irritation of the seven socialites, I not only welcomed the newcomers, I whispered a few useful suggestions during class.  Noticing my encouragement, I think the women felt threatened.  And for good reason.  I wasn't outnumbered any more.  Nor was their dancing superior.  Due to a full month of Casa Mark, we were even now. 

Nervous about tonight's visit to the Farmhouse, I was full of manic energy that morning.  Throughout December I had acquired new moves courtesy of non-stop practice at Casa Mark.  Since my dancing showed marked improvement, I hoped my teacher would notice my progress.  I was very pleased when Disco Dave saw me in the mirror and smiled in approval.

It may have been the New Year, but some things never change.  The River Oaks Seven still refused to acknowledge my existence.  They kept their backs to me at all times and refused to looked directly at me.  But they knew I was there.  I could see them watching me using the mirror.  From my vantage point, I saw them exchange frowns and looks of disapproval with each other.  After five months they were still determined to make me feel that I was trespassing.

Heck, I didn't care.  The women didn't bother me nearly as much as they had in the past.  In fact, my attitude had changed completely.  Rather than be intimidated by their rudeness, I felt nothing but contempt for these pathetic aristocrats.  Dressed in their finery, these were beautiful women who carried themselves with dignity.  They wore expensive clothes, their hair was styled to perfection, and they displayed exquisite jewelry.  Given all these blessings, why would they insist on maintaining their elevated status in a Disco class of all places?  Why would grown women play such a nasty game?  It had to be a game.  How else could seven women pull off a perfectly coordinated effort of blanket condescension over a five month period?? 

No doubt they conducted weekly snobbery get-togethers.  How else could they develop the coordinated choreography worthy of the Supremes?  I fantasized how they practiced uplifting their noses, rolling their eyes, and sneering in tandem.  No doubt they practiced facial exercises designed to strengthen their frown muscles.  What a shame no one ever taught them how to smile sweetly.  Clearly there must be some sort of pay-off in feeling superior.  I would not know.  Oh well, if they were happy hiding behind their wall of contempt, more power to them.

For the benefit of the newcomers, David stuck mostly to basic moves that were old hat for me and my sworn enemies.  Lacking any need to concentrate, I spent my time reviewing last year's class warfare.  I was convinced more than ever that the River Oaks Seven was a Fated relationship.  Without them, I would have never made the same progress on my Dance Path.  To me it was a Cosmic Joke just how bad I was at dancing.  Even worse, I had put all my eggs in one basket for reasons I could barely fathom.  Nor had my gamble paid off.  I had yet to see my dancing open the door to my much-anticipated girlfriend.  Nevertheless, without the slightest idea what was going on, I kept getting hints that dancing was important for some reason.  The most important hint of all was the presence of the River Oaks Seven.  Convinced these women had been placed in my life for a reason, I was bound and determined to catch them and pass them.

I had recognized these women were a part of my Fate right from the start.  Under ordinary circumstances, I would have quit after my first class.  For that matter, I wanted to quit several other times.  However I refused to leave because I did not want to give these women the satisfaction of knowing they had run me off.  Anyone who knows me would realize the easiest way to get me to stick around would be to trigger my sense of inferiority.  I had been knocked down early in life and placed at a huge disadvantage compared to my privileged St. John's classmates.  I had a burning desire to prove to myself equal to these women who stood as SJS archetypes.  My Dance Project would never be over till I proved to the seven women that I was just as good as they were in this oddest of competitive arenas.

They say your worst enemy is your best teacher.  Based on bitter lessons taught to me by Vanessa and Fujimoto, I would have to agree.  In a similar way, by aggravating me no end, the seven women provoked the fury I needed to keep returning to class despite little progress back in the beginning.  The River Oaks Seven had done me a real favor.  They were instrumental in keeping me focused on a goal that would make no sense to a casual observer.  Only someone who was aware of my demons would understand why I was determined to show those women what I was made of.  Slowly but surely I was healing my sense of loss regarding all those high school dance parties where all I did was watch in envy from the shadows.  No doubt my former classmates still held a decided edge in wealth, but when it came to dancing, it would be good to put at least one ancient bitterness to rest. 

I was pleased to discover my dancing earned the respect of the four new students.  At the end of the first song David played, one of the men turned to me and said I was pretty good.  I pointed to David.  "That's the guy who got me started.  All credit goes to David."

When David overheard me, he turned to face us and smiled to acknowledge my comment.  I noted the women frowning amongst themselves.  What was wrong with these women?  After class, David caught up to me just as I was about to walk out of the building.

"Sorry to chase you down like this, but I wanted to thank you for your compliment."

"You are more than welcome, David.  I meant what I said.  Your class has been invaluable to me."

"May I ask you a question?"

"Of course.  What can I do for you, David?"

"You have made considerable progress.  I wondered if you go dancing a lot."

I laughed.  "What you really want is to know my secret.  Is that correct?"

David grinned.  "Yes, definitely."

"I go dancing every Saturday night."

"Really?  Where do you go dancing?"

Did I dare?  Sure, why not?  I decided to give David a little thrill.  "I am going to the Farmhouse tonight."

David's eyes bulged.  As I guessed, David was quite familiar with the Farmhouse.  "No way.  You're putting me on."

I laughed because he had taken the bait.  "No, I'm serious."

Flustered, David blurted out, "But I thought you weren't gay."

"I'm not gay, but I have gay friends."

David looked at me suspiciously, but decided not to pry.  "I go dancing at the Farmhouse sometimes although I haven't been there lately.  Maybe I will see you over there."

"I will look for you, David."

I tried to act confident, but inside I was shaking.  Good grief.  I shook my head in disbelief.  Am I really going to go through with this? 

THE ICE QUEEN STEADIES MY NERVES

I refused to go to the Farmhouse alone.  I didn't feel okay walking in by myself until I knew what I was getting into.  So I persuaded Mark to take me with them for the first visit.  I was pretty worried as I waited for Mark to come pick me up.  I was not at all happy about letting myself get sucked deeper into the Gay World.  Like the proverbial tar baby, with every step I took, I asked myself if I was going too far.  If I really was 'secretly gay', would this new step push me over the edge?   Would tonight be the night when a blinding flash of homosexual desire seized my body and took control?  I tried to reassure myself.  If the gay takeover hadn't happened so far, then it probably wouldn't happen at the Farmhouse either.  Besides, I told myself, I would rather take that chance and keep dancing than stay home.  So I took the plunge despite my misgivings.  It seemed ironic I would visit a Gay Stronghold in order to conquer my fear of women.  This was one of those moments when my own logic escaped me. 

To my immense relief, my fear of hidden homosexual urges was allayed in a very peculiar way.  Mark, Sean, Mariah, Randy and me were packed into one car.  Mark sat in front with Sean driving.  Guess who got relegated to the back seat?   I wondered how Mariah felt about being demoted to the back seat.  Stuck in the Rachel position between giant me and giant Randy, Mariah was clearly uncomfortable.  As she shifted around, she eventually settled for sitting close to me.  I stopped breathing the moment she squeezed in.  Oh my gosh, the Forbidden Woman is next to me!  Since Randy was such a big guy, to my further surprise, Mariah wasted no time moving closer than necessary.  Mariah was a slender woman.  She did not have to sit that close.  The fact that Mariah did it anyway seemed deliberate.  The moment our legs touched, I was on fire.  My left arm was pinned to my side... did I dare put it around Mariah?  No, but I sure wanted to.  However, my arm was so uncomfortable I had to lift it behind her shoulders.  Now Mariah moved closer.  Unbelievable.  As non-verbal messages go, this was spectacular.  Was she really sending me a message or was this just my wishful thinking?  Mariah had every reason to resent Sean taking her place in the front seat.  Seriously, one would assume the wife gets the front seat.  At the thought of a break up, my fantasy of Mariah's availability sent a thrill of heat throughout my body.  I was dismayed by the emergence of a sudden erection.  Oh no.  Of all things.  Good grief. 

Let me explain to my less-worldly female Readers that erections have a will of their own.  An erection's behavior is in no way under the control of a man's conscious mind.  In a manner similar to blushing, sometimes erections appear at the most awkward moments.  A man can try to keep a straight face only to have his hidden desire revealed.  Fortunately, here in the dark I doubted Mariah had noticed my sudden arousal.  However I had a different problem.  Erections prefer to point upwards, not downwards.  Hence the name.  However, there are times when a man's clothing inhibits the necessary rise to glory.  This was one of those moments.  Thanks to my wrong direction erection (I should have been a poet), I was in serious pain.  I did not dare unzip my pants and right the wrong.  Mariah was sure to notice.  So I squirmed a lot and suffered.  My only hope was the erection would subside.  Fat chance of that, not with this bombshell beside me.  With every turn the car took, Mariah pressed hard against me, thereby intensifying both my pain and my desire.  Damn it, this thing really hurts!  This was the strangest form of suffering I had ever encountered.  Call it the Agony and the Ecstasy. 

I noticed Mariah's body was very warm.  This surprised me since it contradicted my Ice Queen image.  Over the past month, I still had yet to say a word to Mariah beyond hello.  I recalled seeing her naked body on the Galveston beach.  Ow!  The throbbing grew worse.  I could smell her, I could feel her bare arms against mine, I could feel her heat.  I trembled as erotic fantasies crossed my mind.  Sitting so close to the Forbidden Woman, her presence really unsettled me, especially since it felt deliberate.  My hand involuntarily twitched to touch her bare leg to see what she would do, but I barely stopped in time.  Much too risky.  I recalled how unhappy Mariah had looked at Mark's recent New Year's Eve Party.  Surely Mariah was threatened by Sean's emergence in Mark's life.  Tonight Mariah had been relegated to the back seat while Sean was in the driver's seat in more ways than one.  Did she feel left out?  In which case, was Mariah looking to branch out in a new direction?  I wanted so much to read the expression on her face, but she was sitting on my blind side. 

In the belief that Mariah had signaled interest, I was overwhelmed with equal part fear and longing.  I was frightened because I was convinced Mariah was going to get me into trouble.  The main reason I stayed away from Mariah was the fear that having sex with her might somehow obligate me to experiment with sex with Mark.  Knowing him, no doubt Mark would find some way to crawl naked into bed with us.  However, now that Mark had Sean, perhaps Mariah was a free agent in which case the privacy of my apartment was in play.  I smiled at the thought of inviting the Ice Queen to come over and shoot pool sometime.  Maybe cuddle with our clothes on.  haha.  Indeed, the possibility that I might obtain mating rights free and clear of Mark left me tingling with anticipation. 

I was thrilled for another reason.  My incessant throbbing was exactly the kind of reassurance I needed to remind me I was not secretly gay.  At the very moment I was about to visit this gay Citadel of Decadence, my highly painful erection was convincing testimony to my sexual preference.  In the remote case I found myself slipping in the wrong direction tonight, all I had to do was watch this woman dance and I would be okay.  I quietly blessed Mariah for this poignant and quite pointed reminder of which direction I leaned. 

THE FARMHOUSE

The car stopped and we were here.  When I walked around to the back of the car to rearrange my anatomy, Mariah gave me the strangest look.  Did she know what I was doing?  I turned crimson with embarrassment.  And why did she keep staring at me like that?  I was so hot and bothered by Mariah, my gut told me her interest was a real possibility.  Is it possible that a woman would not notice her effect on a man?  Don't women have extrasensory powers in this regard?  But where was the smile?  Mariah maintained her mask, possibly not to alert Mark.  Who could say with Mystery Mariah?   I hated the uncertainty, but I still refused to make the first move without a definite signal.  All she had to do was place her hand on my leg.  But that did not happen.  Mark was my best friend.  I was not about to make a move on his wife until I had a better read on her intentions.

With the foursome as my escorts, we walked up to a large remodeled mansion located a few blocks from Westheimer and Bagby.  I was as tense as I have ever been in my life as I entered the Farmhouse.   With my heart thumping in fear, there was no way I was going in that door alone.  To be exact, I was panic-stricken.  What am I getting myself into? 

The moment I walked in the door, I freaked out.  There were easily 300 men inside!  Oh my God, it was worse than I imagined.  Every one of the men wore leather.  Only half of them had shirts on.  I had never seen so many hairy, well-developed chests in my life.  Or for that matter completely shaved chests similar to Disco Dave.  Noticing several men checking me out, I stopped breathing.  It was a good thing I trusted Mark.  Otherwise I would have run for my life.  I told myself to get a grip as I bravely moved through the crowd.

To my relief I spotted Lucy and Jill.  Now I relaxed a bit.  I reminded myself I was here for one reason and one reason only... I wanted to practice my dancing.  So dance I did!  Whenever I wanted to dance, there were five ladies to choose from including Juicy and Lucy.  Mariah was taboo, especially tonight (unless she made the first move of course).  Otherwise I was determined to stay as far from her as possible.  Unwilling to guess wrong, I stuck to the five women.  They would dance with me any time I asked.  Sometimes all six of us would dance together, me and five women.  Surrounded by the Fruit Fly Brigade, I began to calm down.  This was going to be okay.  I could survive this.

To my consternation, Mariah kept her distance.  I noticed she made several discrete glances at me, but she never smiled.  I had no idea what was going through her mind.  I could not figure her out to save my soul.   If Mariah was interested in men, at the moment I was the only game in town.  In a sense, Mariah and I were stranded on a deserted island together.  Why did she sit unnecessarily close to me in the car yet refuse to show interest afterwards?  Mariah was so damn good-looking I was terrified of her to begin with.  In addition, her complicated relationship with Mark made things even worse.  If she was waiting for me to make the first move, we were in trouble.

But here's the funny thing.  What kept me from asking her?  All I had to do was ask Mariah to dance, then study her response.  I had been taking dance lessons for five months because Jim Deane said in the Mistress Book that dancing is the fastest polite way to get a girl into a man's arms.  In other words, I was learning to dance specifically as an ice breaker, a way to get to First Base.  Here is my point.  If my theory of Cosmic Blindness is correct, certain ideas can be added as suggestions to our mind or certain thoughts can be blocked from occurring.  Whatever thought moves us in the direction of our Destiny can be transmitted telepathically.  In my case, the obvious thought of asking Mariah to dance never crossed my mind.  Which, in Hindsight, suggests my much-desired pairing with Mariah was not in the cards. 

Mariah skipped the freestyle dancing completely, a sure sign that she was troubled.  No sinuous gypsy dance performances tonight.  Instead Mariah stuck to line dances.  She showed no enthusiasm and her face remained impassive.  As for our bodies touching in the car, maybe she was testing me to see how I would react.  Obviously Mariah had not become a supervisor by accident.  She knew how to play the angles and weigh her options before acting.  If forced to guess, perhaps Mariah was making up her mind which fork in the road to take.

So, with a huge sigh of disappointment, I turned my attention to the dancing.  Line Dances were very popular at the Farmhouse.  Four Corners, Cha Cha Hustle, Freeze, Electric Slide, Bus Stop, L.A. Freeway... plus other line dances with names I have long forgotten.  Lucy, Juicy and I had a blast with the line dances.  It was 1975 and the Disco Era was in full swing. 

THE LOVE TRIANGLE

Mark referred to Sean as the best Christmas present he ever received.  I recalled the moment in late December when Mark first told me about Sean.  Mark poured his heart out about his love for Sean and how wonderful the guy was.  It was love at first sight.  Mark and Sean immediately realized they had something special.  Shortly after New Year, Mark made his big announcement.  Mark beamed with pride when he told me the two of them had decided to become exclusive.  This was a big step for Mark.  From what Mark told me, monogamy did not come naturally to gay men.  Here in the mid-Seventies, the gay community had elevated casual sex to a crescendo.  Mark told me it was not uncommon for an attractive gay man living in a big city to count his lifetime conquests in the hundreds, for some even a thousand or more.  Considering I could still count the women I had been with on one hand, my eyes bulged in astonishment.  Yes, I knew I led a sheltered life, but the disparity was shocking. 

Given this context, when Mark said that he and Sean were planning to be exclusive, I gathered that limiting himself to just one partner (something I took for granted) was a big deal for Mark.  Indeed, Mark seemed dazed by his decision.   Mark muttered aloud, "I don't know if I even know how to be faithful!!"  Being loyal to one man was unexplored territory.

One week later Mark announced his love life had entered a startling new dimension.  I raised an eyebrow in mid-January when Mark broke the big news.  Mariah had joined Sean and Mark in their lovemaking.  As Mark called it, they were having a Three-Way.  Mark said it was incredible.  He had never been more happy in his life.

This was the dawn of the Love Triangle, my preferred term.  The Love Triangle was the first personal information Mark had ever shared about Mariah.  Hmm.  So Mystery Mariah is having sex with two gay men.  I didn't see that one coming.  I was not pleased to know I had lost out in the Mariah sweepstakes.   However, if I could lose Yolanda to Robbie the gang banger, I suppose I could lose Mariah to two gay men.  Oh well, why take it personal?  It wasn't like I had stepped up to the plate and taken a swing.

As I listened to Mark, I was glad that he was happy.  At the same time I had never heard of a stranger relationship.  As I visualized the three of them in bed together, I thought Mark was taking a big chance.  I was no stranger to Love Triangles.  Emily-Eric-Rick.  Vanessa-Kenny-Rick.  Yolanda-Robbie-Rick.  Rachel-Aaron-Rick.  Been there, done that, lost every time.  But this time I was the observer, not the loser. 

"Mark, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Absolutely," Mark replied.  "Mariah asked to join us and Sean said he was all for it." 

"I think sooner or later, someone is bound to get jealous.  I am sure of it."

Mark disagreed.  "Everybody is an adult here.  We all know what the risks are and we all know that as long as we communicate, we can make this work."

Well, Mark was the Master.  If anyone could pull it off, Mark would be the one to do it.   Mark knew more about relationships than any person I had ever met.  Be that as it may, I still thought what Mark was doing was risky. 

January 1975

DISCO DAVE AT THE FARMHOUSE

"David, it was a real pleasure to watch you dance.  I saw several moves I've never seen you demonstrate in dance class."

David blushed.  "My private style is a little too wicked to show my sophisticated ladies.  I wouldn't want to get them all flustered."

At that comment, we shared an evil grin together.

"Well, David, you certainly know how to put on a show.  My friends were amazed."

"I love to dance Disco.  It is my entire life.  Did you know I have won the Staff Freestyle Dance contest three years in a row?"

"You told me that once before and I believed you then.  However, after seeing you dance here at the Farmhouse, I have yet to see anyone here who can hold a candle to your talent."

"How did you find me, Rick?  It is very crowded tonight."

"Don't be silly.  You were easy to spot.  Everyone was staring at you.  There is no one in this club that compares to you."

David blushed again.  I think he liked being complimented.  "Guess what, Rick?  Two of the women in our class appeared in this week's Houston Chronicle best-dressed article.  They got their photographs in the paper."

"Really?  Too bad I missed it.  I would have pinned their picture to the wall for inspiration."

"My, my, aren't you the sarcastic one.  Knowing you, you would probably throw darts."

I grinned.  "How did you guess?"

"You should read the Houston Chronicle society columns.  I see their names all the time.  In fact, three of the women sponsored a recent fundraiser at the Museum of Fine Arts.  You would be surprised.  These ladies are real movers and shakers."

"No, David, I wouldn't be surprised.  It is pretty obvious your lady friends know their way around Houston social circles.  By the way, I have a question.  How do those women treat you?"

"They are very nice to me.  They consistently add generous tips at the end of every private lesson and they are always full of compliments for my dancing and teaching.  I don't know what it is about you and them.  They really don't like you, do they?"

A dark smile crossed my face.  "That is the understatement of the century.  They hate me.  Do they ever say anything about me in your private lessons?"

"No, not really.  I doubt that they trust me where you are concerned.  They probably think whatever they say to me will be passed on to you.  However I did overhear Mrs. Larkin talking to Mrs. Tisdale once.  Mrs. Larkin said you give her the creeps the way you stare at her and the others with so much hostility.  Personally, I think you all just got off on the wrong foot.  You should try and talk to them.  They are actually pretty nice."

Very nice?  Maybe to Dave, but never to me.  At this point, David got asked to dance.  He excused himself and left me behind to think it over.  The day I went over to talk politely to the River Oaks Seven would be the day Hell froze over.  They had shown far too much animosity for me to extend pleasantries.  However, David had given me a different impression of the women.  David's choice of the phrase 'give her the creeps' had hit a nerve.  It reminded me of 'Creepy Loser Kid', the phrase I had been taunted with back in high school.  My bitter expression was the likely reason those women were so leery.  It filled me with regret to admit I probably did give some people the creeps.  After all, until Casa Mark came along, I wasn't the most cheerful person in the world.  My perpetual scowl coupled with my size likely did make me seem threatening.  Well, there was nothing I could do about it, so I returned to the dance floor.

TURN THE BEAT AROUND

Inspired by the dance frenzy at the Farmhouse, a fever took hold of me.  I threw caution to the wind and let it all hang out. 

Turn the beat around!

Makes me wanna move my body yeah, yeah, yeah...
With the rat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat on the drums, hey!

Footloose and fancy free, I loved to spin and move to the music.  My days as an average dancer were over.  I was pretty good.  Six months of concentrated practice had paid off.  Here at the Farmhouse, I reached a level of dancing I never dreamed possible when I first started back in late July.  Maybe it was time to move on to the next stage.  What would happen if I danced with pretty girls?  After all, wasn't that the original plan?   I gulped.  Well, not yet... but maybe soon.

I was becoming a spotlight dancer.  Men smiled as I danced.  The increased attention didn't bother me.  The Farmhouse had turned out to be far less dangerous than I had feared.  No one ever bothered me.  Not once.  Nevertheless I was careful.  I had a rule... I stayed strictly within Mark's Circle of friends. It was a good rule; no one ever hit on me.  As long as I stuck to the group, no problem. 

Furthermore, no one ever bugged me about my sexual orientation.  No doubt they continued to assume I was secretly gay, but they did not press the issue.  Once I explained I loved to dance, they nodded and left it at that.  I liked Mark's friends.  Everyone in this group was wonderful to me.  Although I remained a curiosity, I thought it was kind of these people to accept an outsider like me into the Circle of Friends.

I was on a mission.  I was in the Magic Mirror every night with passion.  My nightly ritual had waned a bit around Christmas time, but now that I had actual competition at the Farmhouse, I wanted to be as good as the better dancers.  And so my willingness to practice each night returned with an exclamation point.  I was good now and I wanted to get even better.   I found a radio station with actual dance music.  Having the right music helped.  Each night I turned on the radio and got to work in front of the mirror.

Let's all chant!
Your body, my body
Everybody move your body
Your body, my body
Everybody work your body
ooh, ooh, Let's all chant!

In Hindsight I can see why so many people despised Disco music.  The lyrics were beyond lame.  Repetitive, silly, monotonous.  But so what?  Maybe I didn't want lyrics that made me think.  The powerful electronic Disco beat enabled me to get rid of my tendency to think so much out on the floor.  I fell into some sort of hypnotic state that helped me relax.  Once that sense of blissful unconsciousness swept over me, my body began to move in ways that could not be learned in dance class or by staring at myself in a mirror.  I began to pick up dance moves the same way I once picked up basketball moves... practice, practice, practice.  The funny thing is that I was always surprised to discover a new move had snuck up on me.  Every now and then I would myself moving in a different way.  Something would appear in the Magic Mirror that no one had taught me.  Well, I'll be darned.  There really is something to this 'turn your brain off' stuff.  With a laugh, I remembered how my overly-analytical brain had interfered with my initial attempts.  I cringed at the memory of how 'step-together-step' had once befuddled me.  Or how I once thought the Four Corners was a difficult line dance.  Now look at me.  I wasn't the best, but the line ahead of me was getting shorter.  That in itself was pretty amazing.

I could not wait for my next trip to the Farmhouse.  I wanted to show off my new moves!  Juicy and Lucy were my biggest fans.  They raved about my dancing.  As their adopted Boy Toy, they went on and on about how much fun it was to dance with 'such a hot stud', their words, not mine.  Lucy and Jill spread the story how they had personally taught me to dance.  Claiming to be born teachers and how they were once considered the hottest dancers in their prime, the two ladies took complete credit for my improvement.

"We had no choice but to help Rick.  We had to make sure he raised his game so we would not be embarrassed to dance with him here at the Farmhouse."

Pointing to their beloved Boy Toy with pride, I was the product of their genius.  Look how their hard work had paid off!  The mixture of their silliness and enthusiasm made me smile.  Lucy and Juicy gave me the nicest compliments I had ever received.  I didn't care how plump they were, they made me feel good about myself.

One night Jill reminded me she deserved most of the credit for my improvement because she was my inspiration. 

"My nickname in college was 'Terpsichore' because my dance moves were poetry in motion!" 

All I could do was smile.  Juicy Jill was rounder than the Great Pumpkin, but that didn't stop her from stating everyone considered her the sexiest dancer in the group 'by far'.  Jill pointed out how fortunate I was to have her as a role model.  Not to be outdone, Lucy chimed in with a quip of her own.  Lucy stated that now that she was skinny again (not), if I improved any more, she might be forced to reconsider her hands-off approach.  In that case, I would be helpless to resist her.  In fact, she added, Lucy could not understand how I had kept my hands to myself till now.  I had to grin.  The teasing and the attempts to out-boast each other never stopped. 

The highlight came the night Mark and Sean pulled me aside to say I was starting to catch up to the elite dancers.  Not the first tier, but maybe the second tier.  Wow!  Their kind words gave my ego a much-needed boost.  As the compliments piled up, I could feel my confidence surge.  I beamed with pride at the results of my hard work.  In addition to Juicy and Lucy for egging me on to get better, I owed so much to Mark.  If he had not persuaded Donna to drag me out of my chair back in November, how would I have ever found a way onto the dance floor under my own power?  With that thought, I realized how much this Dance Project had helped to cure my crippled self-esteem.  I smiled because these compliments had shoved my very pissed-off Phobia into the dark shadows.  Who could have imagined that dancing of all things could shut down Phobia?  But it was true.  The Farmhouse had been exactly what I needed.  I said a quiet 'thank you' to Rachel for teaching me not to succumb to my fears all the time.  It was the memory of her that had given me the courage to visit Casa Mark in the first place and the Farmhouse two months later.  Even the River Oaks Seven deserved gratitude.  If they had not been so damn mean to me, where would I have found the energy necessary to devote so much time to this project?

Six months ago I had begun my Dance Project under such extreme circumstances I concluded the Universe had virtually ordered me to learn to dance.  Although I had wondered if I was crazy many times, I doggedly stuck stayed with David's lessons and my nighttime practice sessions in the Magic Mirror.  The best break of all had been making friends with Mark.  Without Mark's help, I could not imagine getting past the dead end I hit thanks to Rachel and my Dilemma.  Now look at me.  This Dance Project had accomplished the miracle of gluing Humpty-Dumpty back together again after my Colorado State meltdown.

The feeling that I was on a 'Meant to be' Path was very strong at the moment.  This had been a very strange route to take, but I could not question the results.  I didn't know where I was headed, but I wasn't going to stop now.  Maybe it was time to visit the straight dance clubs and put my new-found skills to the test.  I was tempted, but my loyalty to Mark, Lucy, and Jill was too strong.

Saturday, February 1, 1975, Age 25, the lost years

TRIUMPH

It was Saturday, February 1.  Dancing throughout January at the Farmhouse had dramatically accelerated my progress.  Sometimes I went three hours without a break in non-stop dancing.  These hours upon hours of practice really paid off.  Barely able to contain the pride I felt over my newfound mastery of Freestyle, I wanted to study David's moves and get even better.  David's two favorite songs were Rock Your Baby by George McRae and Rock the Boat by Hues Connection.  David would move so gracefully when he played these songs.  I tried to imitate his fluid movement, but it just wasn't happening.  David was a natural and I was envious.  Small wonder he had turned his gift into a dance career.

I had made friends with the four new students in January.  Today I had come early knowing I might see a friendly face.  The funny thing is my new friends watched me dance almost as much as they did David.  Although Dave was far better than me, I was the one they locked onto for inspiration.  They would never be as good as David (nor would I), but they believed me when I said I was no better than them when I started.  To be honest, I was far worse, but that was beyond their ability to fathom.  The important things is they got the message.  If I could get this good in six months of concentrated practice, there was hope for them too. 

Just then I looked at the clock.  It was 5 minutes after the 10 am start time.  Where were the River Oaks Seven?  Every now and then one woman or the other had skipped a class, but never all seven at once. David was looking at the clock as well.    At the ten minute mark he turned to me and shrugged his shoulders.  I nodded and David nodded back.  We both agreed... the women were not coming today.  Considering we paid month to month, their disappearance was ominous. 

David beckoned to the five of us and invited us to step forward into the area once occupied by the seven women.  He turned on Rock the Boat and away we went. 

After class, I stayed behind to ask David if they would be coming back.

"I don't think so.  Madelyn mentioned in her recent private lesson that a couple of the ladies were thinking of dropping out.  I have a bad feeling about this."

"Did she say why?"

"No.  My guess is it had something to do with the animosity you had towards them."

"I never said a word."

"You didn't have to.  I think they got the message." 

I smiled an evil smile.  Ding dong, the witches were dead.  They were slender, they were beautiful, they possessed perfect figures, they belonged to the best circles.  But inside they were haughty and cruel.  They had no business treating me like an outcast, so I was I had stood up them.  On the other hand, without their goading, I would have never made it this far.  Goodbye and thanks for the memories.  I would not miss them.

Just then David interrupted my thoughts.  "Rick, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure.  What's up, David?"

"I wanted to compliment you on how much you have improved.  However, I did not dare say so in front of the women.  However, now that they are gone, I don't mind pointing out how far you have come.  So I'm curious.  Do you go dancing a lot?"

"No, just on Saturday night.  But I practice whatever you show me in a mirror at the house all week long.  It's starting to sink in."

"Good for you.  You really struggled back at the start there.  I am glad you stuck with it."

"David, while I have you here, can I ask you the same question?"

"Okay."

"How did you ever get to be so good?"

David laughed. 

"Hey, vato, it's called self-preservation.  I was a scrawny little Mexican kid in high school.  The football players could tell I was gay.  They were always threatening to beat me up.  I discovered the safest thing to do was hang with the girls and let them protect me.  I loved to dance and figured this was the only way I was ever going to get any attention.  I watched every TV dance show religiously and practiced all the time.  I would show the girls my latest moves in the hallway or the school dances.  They loved learning my dance moves.  At the parties, we would get together and compete to see who looked the best.  I was just as good as the girls, maybe better.  The girls knocked themselves out trying to beat me.  In the process they adopted me."

"Sort of like those River Oaks women?"

"Now that you mention it, I suppose so.  I was very popular.  Better yet, the football players left me alone because the girls acted as my bodyguards.  If the boys wanted the girls to like them, they had to be nice to me.  So now you know my secret."

I nodded.  "I see your point.  I was fortunate to be just as big as the football players, so I never feared for my safety.  Only now am I discovering how much I wish I had learned to dance back in high school.  Now I have another question.  Now that the rich women are gone, all we have left is five students.  Why doesn't anyone else ever join this class?"

David's expression changed to a rueful scowl.  "I've been giving that some thought.  I don't think there is that much interest.  I mean, think about it, who teaches all those teenagers how to dance at the high school parties?  The kids teach each other or they copy whatever they see on TV.  That's how I learned.  Disco dancing isn't really all that complicated unless someone takes Freestyle dancing seriously like me."

"So what you are saying is that most people don't need dance lessons?"

"Yes, and I think that's what the problem is.  Most people don't care whether they are all that great.  I go to clubs all the time.  My friends can pick up a Freestyle move or the latest Line Dance just by watching.  My friends would not dream of paying money to learn a dance move when they can get it for free.  Nor would they waste time coming to a dance class.  A dance floor is like a swimming pool.  You don't have to have great skill to jump in.  Most people just want to know enough dance moves to get out on the floor.  They may or may not be a great dancer, but as long as they're cute and look confident, someone is bound to hit on them."

"What if someone doesn't know how to dance at all?"

"Drugs or alcohol will do the trick.  For those who are reluctant, a stiff drink or two is usually sufficient to get even the weakest dancer out on the dance floor, especially if he has a date who insists.  I hate to tell you this, Rick, but I am starting to think there isn't any money in teaching Disco lessons."

"What about those rich women?  They liked your class a lot.  Why did they take your class?"

"Those women are too old to go clubbing.  Plus they have too much pride to be seen stumbling around on the dance floor with a bunch of teeny boppers, so where else are they going to learn?  One of the women, Madelyn, told me that sometimes at these galas she goes to, people get smashed and start to boogie.  Madelyn says those rich farts are so stiff, thanks to the moves she learned from me and she's the best one out there.  Madelyn lives to show off what a hot number she is for an old broad."

"Now that the River Oaks women are gone, what's going to happen to your class?"

David frowned.  "I am afraid the class is not going to make it much longer.  Teaching Ballroom is where I make my money, but I live for Disco.  That is where I put my heart.  But the director is going to flip when I tell him we are down to five people.  There just doesn't seem to be much interest.  I wonder why the demand is so low."

Dave was quiet, so I asked another question.  "Have you ever had a dance teacher?"

Dave replied, "For Ballroom dancing, yes.  Ballroom dancing is very complicated.  There are lots of variations on basic moves and I have to learn how to signal the woman what to do next.  Learning to lead takes serious practice and it is nearly impossible to learn just by watching.  But Freestyle dancing doesn't have any rules.  Why should my partner care what I do?  We are dancing apart, so whatever I do doesn't affect him.  Like I said, I learned to dance in high school just like everyone else.  I just got out there one day and started dancing.  Isn't that how everyone does it?  To me, movement is instinctive.  Some of the moves I make up myself and the others I copy from my friends.  What about you?  Did you dance in high school?"

"Are you kidding?  I wouldn't dream of getting on the floor.  I wasn't very popular to begin with and I was terrified the girls would turn me down.  I was also afraid the boys would make fun of me.  There were a group of snobs who loved to pick on me.  All I did was hide in the shadows and watch."

"Yeah, we had kids who refused to join in.  They were usually the brainiacs who were too shy to give it a try.  The rest of us just got out there and moved around.  We knew we looked good and didn't care what people thought.  That was a fun time for me.  I was easily the best dancer in the entire school."

Dave went quiet again.  "Hmm, I wonder if that's the problem."

"What are you talking about?"

"You mentioned that no one ever joins our class.  Since Dancing came easy to me, maybe that's the problem.  Maybe the dancing comes easy to most people and the rest don't care.  People take Ballroom lessons because it is too complicated to figure out on their own, but Freestyle is a different story.  It just occurred to me that Freestyle is something most people can pick up without any need for a teacher.  Who needs lessons?  All they have to do is get out there." 

"I am not sure I understand."

David frowned.  "The problem is that Disco dancing does not require skill or training, so why pay money?  In Ballroom dancing, you have no choice.  You have a partner who depends on you, so what you know or don't know matters a lot.  But not Disco.  Why waste time taking lessons?  Do whatever you want.  A little dope or a beer is sufficient to inspire a spastic to shake his booty and think he's sexy."

At this point, someone knocked on the door to tell David his next student had arrived, so that is where the conversation ended.  As I drove home, I gave it some thought.  David believed his class remained small because there was so little demand for Freestyle lessons.  I shook my head in disgust.  If I understood this correctly, since Freestyle dancing was so easy to learn, I must be the only person in Houston who was forced to take lessons.  A truly humiliating realization.