This morning, on the radio, I heard George Michael's 'Too Funky,' and it placed me on a time machine I had almost forgotten existed.
I remember listening to this CASSETTE tape on my walkman on the plane ride en route to visit one of my favorite people in the world, my friend, Julie, who was world-wise and cool and gorgeous and a sorority sister and a recent graduate of our college. And shortly after graduation, she was living in the big city -- a place so close to me, but a place I had only visited twice: once as a senior in high school, and once as a bright-eyed Christmas break visitor with Julie and her family the year prior.
But this shiny muggy July in 1992 is how I will always prefer to think about New York City: steamy summertime, the fashionable Julie Taylor smoking Marlboro Lights, drinking Malibu and diet cokes at the Whiskey with the waitresses in cat suits, and seeing Falsettoland with Joe Ceriello who showed up to the theatre wearing jean shorts. I also remember being so fucking excited because I had the inaugural issue of OUT Magazine, which was, like, super classy for a young gay kid who was still relegated to reading dirty personals in the back of the Penny Saver.
my god, I feel old. Thank you, Julie, for making me feel like the coolest kid in the whole world. thank you, a billion times over.
Xoxoxoxo
But this shiny muggy July in 1992 is how I will always prefer to think about New York City: steamy summertime, the fashionable Julie Taylor smoking Marlboro Lights, drinking Malibu and diet cokes at the Whiskey with the waitresses in cat suits, and seeing Falsettoland with Joe Ceriello who showed up to the theatre wearing jean shorts. I also remember being so fucking excited because I had the inaugural issue of OUT Magazine, which was, like, super classy for a young gay kid who was still relegated to reading dirty personals in the back of the Penny Saver.
my god, I feel old. Thank you, Julie, for making me feel like the coolest kid in the whole world. thank you, a billion times over.
Xoxoxoxo
