THE RAPE OF INNOCENCE

On Hollywood Boulevard in my Midnight Cowboy heyday - - - thanks to John N. - an actor/photographer who was my "companion" until his drug addiction destroyed our relationship.

Original photograph.

My previous post - "Gay Bars, Danger, Murder" - was powerful and undoubtedly offensive to some. That wasn't my intension......but I wanted to be truthful, and every word was true.

I know that many of my readers are religious mid- western ladies - - who probably couldn't conceive the powerful perversion of Southern California where  I grew up. It was (is) a different world than anyone could imagine.....

......and the underground hardcore lifestyle that I was (eventually) immersed in is almost indescribable.

I don't intend to shock, offend, or disappoint my readers - - but I want be truthful. And truth can be very brutal. I know of four definitely gay men who read my blog and are not shocked.....and I highly suspect a fifth. Yes, you.

And me??

I never ever remotely suspected that I would eventually become promiscuous, streetwise, wild, hedonistic, morally corrupt.

I was an only child, no siblings - - extremely timid, shy, introverted, incredibly naive. I was always good, well-behaved, unbelievably honest.

As a child I had to endure my father's extreme violence - - physical and mental abuse. I had to protect my mother from him. I was much of a mama's boy. Between my parents turbulent relationship - - I had to be a referee, psychologist, confidant, mediator.....at one heckuva early age.

When my father was drunk, after the beatings, chased us out of the house late at night.....my mother and I would hide in the yard until dawn. I'd go to school the next day and pretend nothing had happened.

Many many many times. Perhaps that's what made me tough. This was no "Leave It to Beaver" environment. It was the pure realms of goddamn hell.

Ironically, I was terrified of men. I feared my father more than I ever feared God. Terror, violence, absolute insanity. I could reveal things you'd never want to believe.

I have no intention to analyze the situation. It would take too damn long. Living in an abusive environment is a completely different world. You are immersed in unreality.

I reverted unto myself - - incredibly artistic - - writing stories, drawing pictures, reading - - always always reading. Novels.....and the Bible. I knew more about the Bible than your average preachers.

I clearly knew right from wrong. Years later I gravitated to wrong......I craved escape from reality - - because reality was absolute hell. I didn't want unblemished angelic uselessness - - I wanted to indulge in the sins of Sodom and the blasphemy of Babylon.

My metamorphosis wasn't easy - - it happened gradually. Indulging into the depths of darkness is difficult for the uninitiated and the incredibly naive.

I already told the incident (many times) when the final break occurred. When I was eighteen and endured the absolute worst blowup with my father ever. 

Our physical confrontation was nearly deadly. I was fighting for my life. He beat me severely, choked  me into unconsciousness. No exaggeration. It took weeks for me to physically recover.

Too much too tell.

I got his gun and one night when he was sleeping.....almost killed him. I left......lived homeless on the beach. Finding food in trash cans. Sleeping on the sand.

Finally....finally rented a one room apartment in Anaheim...$25 a week.

I'll never forget that autumn

Then......then my transformation began....went to Hollywood.....slowly, slowly became streetwise...filled with hate and self-hatred. An intense desire for danger.

Then.....then I was suddenly desirable.....learned to use my youth and looks advantageously.....a quasi- midnight cowboy.....tasting the deliciously unique nightmare of booze, drugs, sex.

My midnight attire

Levi jeans, a  Kit Carson shirt, a Billy Jack hat, suade boots, Cool Cigarettes. A switchblade knife, a flask of whiskey, a pocket full of quaaludes.....and Valium.

At first I was incredibly naive.

One midnight on Hollywood Boulevard, three black girls came up to me - - gushing how cute I was, loving my Billy Jack hat.

I was six feet tall. They were all taller than me. I was too innocent to realize they were transvestites ( that's what they were called back then).

One midnight on Hollywood Boulevard......a young white man beckoned me to an alley, wanted to have sex. I timidly followed. He dropped to his knees, started licking my boots! Told me I was beautiful!

I was completely astonished. My ego was fed.

What transpired? Only unintentional whispers and......things that are not to be revealed.

My Hollywood stories began to unravel like celluloid outtakes on a cutting room floor.

Relationships, affairs, one night stands......ten minute encounters

I consorted with two-bit actors, drug dealers, hustlers, porno movie directors, robbers, addicts, and worse.

Then......I eventually learned that (some) men could be extremely loving, tender, caring.....something incredibly new to me.......something I desperately craved

I knew it was wrong, immoral, sinful, I had absolutely no gay pride.....pride for what? Pride is shit. 

Some people write books about nothing.

I could write a true book that would blow you far beyond the stratosphere.

Don't underestimate me.

Jon ❤️ with love

Whether you like him or not.

On Hollywood Boulevard in my Midnight Cowboy attire - - a great realistic AI restoration of the original photo. Brings back incredible memories.

(I didn't check the spelling, and I'm a terrible speller)