8/26/96 - Reunion, Part 1

8/26/96 - 1810 Chapala

I put in my 30 day notice at work today. Another step in making this really happen. Except for my poverty, fear of job- and apartment-hunting, doubt about whether I want to live in San Francisco, and general terror about uprooting my life, I'm very excited about moving!

It was an interesting weekend in Sonoma and S.F. It was SVHS' class of '86's ten-year reunion, and Susanna invited me along as her date. The strangest thing, of course, was that Madra Judd is now Matt Judd. Mike [brother-in-law] had told me about the change last week when he and Kate were down, but I didn't expect him to come, so I didn't mention it to Susanna until we were on our way to the reunion.

He did come, and I didn't hear one negative comment or see one negative glance. It made me feel like old redneck Sonoma might have a chance after all. Matt seems happy the way he is; Madra never seemed comfortable being female, and so has found the solution.

[I'm still amazed at the positive reaction the Class of '86 gave him. When I think of how scared I was to appear gay while in high school, and the reflexive cover-ups I tried even at this reunion, I just think "how unnecessary." There are good people everywhere. Matt's everlasting positive attitude toward life, even in the face of dire adversity, makes him a hero, always.]

The more prosaic weirdnesses of the reunion were (in no particular order): Chrissy Jonas getting wasted, Susanna getting pretty tiddly herself, Mark Thompson's mere presence (and me witnessing his brief tete-a-tete with Karen McConnell), Karen being there with John Litzenberg, Brian Sloane going out of his way to shake my hand (on the dance floor! with "Love Shack" playing!), Frank Delgado seeming desperate and sleazy, what eternally cool people Shiloh and Holly are, and A.J. Riebli remembering me at Marioni's afterward.

[All of these are people from my childhood in Sonoma, obviously. I don't think it's worth the effort to go into all the stories behind these names you'll never see again. I changed only one name in the preceding paragraph; trying not to smear people.]

I'm so glad S. invited me. My own reunion is going to seem anticlimactic. But 1988...hmmm...maybe I could get Paul Miailovich to take me as his date...I think I'd like to get on next year's committee. [I didn't, though I did go. It was anticlimactic, and Lars never showed. Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme ol' bullshit. I didn't go to '88's reunion in '98.]

I actually went up on Friday, and spent the afternoon and night in the city. Sean and I went to lunch with Kristin at SFMOMA, then shopping. I bought a nice outfit at Macy's, and Sean and I met Rafe at the latter's apt. in the Haight.

After a bit of a visit, we went over to Antonio's (nice apt. on Nob Hill) [which I would eventually occupy as my second residence upon moving to S.F. Later...Antonio was/is Rafe's boyfriend], and went to dinner at this hole-in-the-wall Chinese palce within walking distance. [U-Lee, Hyde & Jackson. The best potstickers and rudest service in S.F.] Then to Sean's current place of employment, a piano bar called Martuni's. Not [yet] my scene, and definitely not Rafe's, so we adjourned to the Castro, where Sean left us after a beer at [the old] Badlands. [Martuni's, because of its proximity to my first apt. in the city, and because Sean worked there, became a hangout of mine during my first year as a San Franciscan. It seemed way too precious when I first saw it.]

We went to the Phoenix, but none of our hearts were in it (I can definitely see why Rafe doesn't party in the Castro), so we had a relatively early night. I shared the dreaded futon with both Rafe and Antonio (bleah), and was off to Sonoma relatively early on Saturday.

(To be continued)

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