"Crimes Against Nature".

Oh god, it was a heady time.  Late in 1978 as I recall.  In San Francisco.  I was in skin tight bell bottom jeans, an equally tight white t-shirt, platform shoes and a wonderful 1970's porn mustache.  Yes, I was SMOKING hot!!!  I was in a second story loft space watching a play called "Crimes Against Nature".  How corn-holing gay can you possibly get???

Think of this thing as a totally gay precursor of "A Chorus Line" without the music, dancing and talent.  I loved it, I think.  Sort of.  Maybe.  Who knows, I was one some things...

The only scene I can remember is "Willy".   He had a thing for Marilyn Monroe.  He called her "Nadene".  And he could smell her ectoplasm.  Yeah, Willy was kind of crazy.  Dare I say,  "damaged"?  He laid out a diatribe that was me.  Heart and soul, me.  He was a train wreck in slow motion with me driving the Cadillac.  I bonded with that lost soul immediately.  We woke up together the next morning.  I didn't have a clue in the world who he was.    We became drinking buddies.  Such were the late '70's.  That little fur ball drew me into his insanity...  I treasure those times to this day.

Today I love street theater, guerrilla theater and smash you in the face kind of stuff.  How delightful!!!  It just doesn't get any better than that!!!  Thank you for the ride!!!