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That quote above is so true. Every now and then I start feeling a little nostalgic and Google someone from my past to find out whatever happened to them since we last crossed paths… or just to see what they look like today.

(Or more embarrassingly, to put a face to the name I had been gushing over in some journal entry from the 90s whom I now have absolutely no recollection of.)

I'm amazed how consistently I have come up completely empty-handed, and that's probably a good thing. About twenty years ago I tracked down several members of my old high school crew whom I lost touch with when we went off to different colleges and discovered to my horror that nearly all of them had become raging conservative christianists. I just remember shaking my head in disbelief. Needless to say I did not pursue reestablishing those friendships.

I'm curious, but not that curious to go digging into the past; and certainly not curious enough to spend any money on those paid stalker people-finder background-check websites.

At this point I just assume that the folks I'm trying to locate have no online presence, have done a damn good job of hiding it, or—since I am getting up there in years and we're still dealing with an ongoing pandemic—have simply died.

I mean, in the last two years people who I have stayed in contact with for the last 30-40 years have passed away, and COVID wasn't even the cause.

As recently as a few months ago I was speaking with a friend from high school whom I have maintained steady contact with over the years and we were discussing a mutual friend from back in the day who was big into hifi like we were with whom I'd lost contact after I moved to San Francisco.  Surprisingly Ken (my friend) still spoke to Gary, and offered me his contact info.

I emailed him, and after we exchanged a few pleasant emails and current photos, the conversation just died. Like twenty years ago, I suspect Jesus got in the way.

There's a reason the past is best left in the past. Live with and treasure your memories; don't let them be destroyed by the reality of what people have become.

 

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Blast from the Past

For any local Phoenix readers (do I even still have any local readers) over a certain age who've been here a while…

I found these pictures online while trying to dig up some info on another Phoenix landmark of the early 80s, Hotbods.

The Connection was my favorite watering hole back in the mid 80s. When I returned from San Francisco in 2002 I was greeted by a vacant lot and news that the owner had died of AIDS sometime in the 90s. The new owner of the property apparently couldn't raze the building fast enough, and I wouldn't be surprised if they'd salted the earth on top of it.

So many memories. So many ghosts.

Here are some of my own pictures from the AIDS Benefit Auction that was held at the place in October 1983:

Donnie, a bartender at The Connection.
My housemate Steve Weirauch (center), whom I met at the Connection a few months earlier, and the guy he was dating at the time of the auction (right).
Donnie, a bartender at The Connection.
Patrons. The guy dead-center in the phoeo in the background was one of the bartenders on the disco side of the house. I lusted in my heart, but unfortunately that was as far as it got.
Jack Long (guy in the grey t-shirt) and I dated for a while. And yes, he lived up to his name.

Brent Walker, one of the bartenders on the disco side of the house. While I was more interested in connecting with the other bartender (whose name completely escapes me at this point), it was Brent who I eventually hooked up with. I ran into Brent—again, behind a bar—at the Midnight Sun in San Francisco several years later. To this day, I can't hear Joe Yellow's "Lover to Lover" without thinking of him.
A good view of the infamous Mack truck that was part of the decor of the bar.
Steve and his boyfriend posing in front of the truck. I never partook of any of it, but I understand a lot used to happen in the cab of that truck.
The group St. Tropez performing—eh, lip syncing—at the bar for the benefit auction.
More lip syncing from the group St. Tropez at the bar for the benefit auction.

I may have posted these before, but frankly I'm too lazy to go looking. In any case they'll probably still be new to some of my readers. (I'm discovering that over the years I've repeated myself so many times on this here blog thingie it's ridiculous.)