Yes, this is the photo of me when I was in the Navy in 1942 and ’43.  When  I was finally kicked out with an HONORABLE DISCHARGE  I continued to wear my uniform for the next 90 days because I could get free  meals in restaurants and at the Pirates ballgames at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, Pa. where I was living with my Aunt and Uncle. I finally went to work at the HEINZ FACTORY but it was so boring that I quit and went back to New York.

OLD-OLD AGE BULLETIN:  i WOKE up this morning with a painful crink in my neck –low energy and dizziness so I took a codeine tablet . I’m still stoned and the crink in my neck is still there but not as painful.  I received tons of love at my birthday party and I am not lonely. My blog is doing weird things so I better  sign off. COMING IN A FEW DAYS–A VIDEO OF MY PARTY.

In the 8th grade I published PARACHUTE JUMP, a very, very, very short story that was in my school paper on the North Side of Pittsburgh, Pa. In 1953  I was published in the book to the left. One of its main characters was an out of the closet gay man where there was no such thing as a closet and we were invisible or talked about in dirty whispers. HOWEVER, there was the Mattachine Society that was co-founded by the courageous Harry Hay in1951.  He also founded the RADICAL FAIERIES.

Feeling like shit but I’m excited about my trip to Hawaii.  Richard Hammer, my buddy from downstairs is wheelchairing  me to the tropical island.  Thanks to the V.A. oxygyn (sic–I can never spell it correctly) it  will be in both of my hotel rooms–one in Honolulu and the other in Oahu–we are staying three days on each island–leaving on the 28th..

June–for the life of me I can’t remember her last name but she played the sex worker in my 1968 play MR JELLO. In this scene she is about ready to spank Mr. Jello, who is four years old in his fantasy.  After he cries his eyes out and begs for forgiveness from his MOMMY he throws a rubber spider at her.  She SCREAMS BLOODY MURDER, then  chases him around the stage but he hides behind CLARA CLICHE, WHO is putting on   his make-up and is getting ready for her performance at the CLUB 69.

OLD-OLD AGE BULLETIN: I hope the APRICOT INN  sends me my glasses. I sent them twenty dollars a week ago  and my one good eye is hurting as I try to read and write with  OLD reading glasses that are to weak.

I’m still emotionally digesting my 88th birthday party. It used to be 99% queer but now I have 9 heterosexual friends at the party of about 25.  It was a humdinger.  Such a change from the old-old days where everyone was getting drunk and dishing everyone else.  Easter looking happy and proud of her 89 year old boyfriend–Andy puffing out his chest because his wife Emily is 20 weeks pregnant–My niece  so dignified in her transformation–no longer the angry man.  I also got some thoughtful presents.

OLD-OLD AGE BULLETIN:  I was not feeling very good–dizzy and low energy and I just got back from my birthday party about a little over an hour ago–had to take a kind of nap with Squeakie on my stomach for about an hour but now I feel a little better–a fab party with all of my loved ones there–around twenty maybe a few more.  Charlie. my brand new niece was there showing of fhis beautiful new tits and and my 80 year old sister was lovy-dovy with her 89 year old boyfriend.  Charlie drove all the way down from Mt. Shasta for my party.  Andy Raskin came with his 20 month pregnant wife and he took a video o the proceedings that will soon be on this blog. Much more to tell but 60 minutes comes on in thirty minutes.  Martin and Alaln have hosted my party for 16 maybe 17 years.  By the way, the photo shows SWEETHEART, my pussy cat who has been  dead for three and a half years and is buried in the geranium pot on my magical garden on the porch.   3 minutes to go!

This is my baby sister at fourteen.  She was playing the oboe which she hated. Her evil father who was my step-father forced her to play three hours a day and five different instruments. I think she was  sixteen or seventeen when she finally ran away from home and got a job.

OLD-OLD AGE BULLETIN: I’m still exhausted from my trip to L/A. I’m surprised at the energy I had during the five days. Only problem is my one good eye was hurting from the glare of the sun. Tomorrow is a BIG DAY–MY 88TH BIRTHDAY.  Alan and Martin will be hosted it for about the 12th or 13th time.  I expect at least 25 people to show up–maybe  more.

The SFPD released an emotional  IT GETS BETTER video supporting LGBT youth.  SFPD is the only police department is tthe country to produce such a video. In the piece policemen describe the pain and suicidal thoughts they experienced growing up–their coming out process–and the ways their lives have changed for the better.

One of the highlights of my trip with Kenny and Willie was visiting Jim Carrazo and his partner Marcus in North Hollywood.
I haven’t seen Jim in 26–maybe 28 years and I didn’t know what to expect as he was a self centered son of a bitch back then but so was I and we bumped heads over RICK GRANAT, who was my best friend but that is another story.

Jim is 76 and his partner is 28 and they seem to have a really nice relationship–they have been together for ten years.  Marcus is from Guatemala  and a few months after then met  they were trying to deport Marcus.  {Forgive me but my memory is so bad now that I’m almost 88 that Marcus’ name  may not be Marcus}  Anyway, Jim went to bat for Marcus–got the situation on TV–he organzed a rally in front of CITY HALL and voila! Marcus got an one year extension for a year and another year and another etc.  It looks like they’re going to live happily ever after in their love nest in  North Hollywood.

Even though I’m a true blue snotty San Franciscan I adored the parts of L.A. that I saw.  Of course I wasn’t in the scuzy downtown area when I was homeless and sleeping in Pershing Square or until someone picked me up–blew me and bought me breakfast in te morning.  That was back in the Forties.

Ken and Willie took tons of pictures but they haven’t sent them to me so it will be a few days before I can post them. THE GETTY CENTER is well known for its architecture , gardens, WOW! and views overlooking L.A. The Center sits atop a hill connected to a parking garage at the bottom of the hill. What is really neat is a three car, cable-pulled tram. Suddenly you are up-up-up in a strange but beautiful city–it’s like being in a kind of paradise. It has outdoor sculptures and there is one you can touch. ALONE IS A ROOM WITH A GORGEOUS STATUTE OF HERCULES and I understand that Hercules was the inspiration for J.Paul Getty to build the 1.3 billion center that draws 1.3 million visitors in a year.
The huge CENTRAL GARDEN is the creation of Robert Irwin. Planning for the garden started in 1992and the garden was completed in 1997. Irwin was quoted as saying that the CENTRAL GARDEN “is a sculpture in the form of a garden,which aims to be ART. I WILL ADD THAT IT IS ART IN ITS HIGHEST FORM. A fountain flows into a grotto on the garden wall. The resulting stream then flows down the hillside into the azalea pool. Robert Irwin placed rocks and boulders in the stream bed to vary the sounds in the stream bed from the flowing water. A tree lined stream descends to the plaza. A maze of azaleas floats in the pool, around which is a series of gardens. More than 500 varieties of exotic plants are used. The selection is always changing. It’s the garden that makes THE GETTY a paradise. The irony–this is from the richest man in the wolrd who was such a skinflint that he allowed gangsters to cut off his grandson’s ear.

I’m having trouble putting on a photo but anyway willie and Ken wheelchaired me to L.A. and the Getty Museum and the Villa in Malibu. Yeah, a little bit of history. J.Paul Getty III, the grandson of billionaire oil tycoon who shared his name, has died in Britain at the age of 54. His son, Barthazer Getty, confirmed that his father died Sunday. The cause of death was not disclosed. J. Paul Getty III was expelled from seven schools. He was branded the GOLDEN HIPPIE,by the press due to his bohemian lifestyle, his leLt wing friends and long red locks.His grandfather, J.Paul Getty was the richest man in the world..In 1973 the sixteen year old Getty was abducted in Rome. Gangsters demanded 17 million for his release. When the Getty family refused to pay up the kidnaper’s cut off the golden hippie’s ear and mailed it to his grandfather.After intense negotiations money bags granddaddy forked over A MEASLY two million. He said, “A billion isn’t what it used to be.” TOMORROW THE GETTY!!

Right now,Willie is transcribing this post for me because I lost my glasses at the Apricot Inn on Interstate 5 in the heart of redneck territory.On the way home,we stopped at Costco for hot dogs which cost $1.50 and includes a soft drink.A employee took our picture to commerate this momentous occasion