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Gay Austin, Vol. 2, No. 10, August 1978
File 008
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Gay Austin, Vol. 2, No. 10, August 1978 - File 008. 1978-08. University of Houston Libraries. University of Houston Digital Library. Web. May 31, 2020. https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/gcam/item/2704/show/2698.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

(1978-08). Gay Austin, Vol. 2, No. 10, August 1978 - File 008. Gulf Coast Archive and Museum (GCAM) Digital Archive. University of Houston Libraries. Retrieved from https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/gcam/item/2704/show/2698

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

Gay Austin, Vol. 2, No. 10, August 1978 - File 008, 1978-08, Gulf Coast Archive and Museum (GCAM) Digital Archive, University of Houston Libraries, accessed May 31, 2020, https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/gcam/item/2704/show/2698.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

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Title Gay Austin, Vol. 2, No. 10, August 1978
Contributor
  • Kay, Kelly
Publisher Gay Community Services
Date August 1978
Language English
Subject
  • LGBTQ community
  • LGBTQ people
Place
  • Austin, Texas
Genre
  • newspapers
Type
  • Text
Identifier OCLC: 5962538
Collection
  • University of Houston Libraries Special Collections
  • LGBT Research Collection
  • Gulf Coast Archive and Museum (GCAM) Digital Archive
Rights No Copyright - United States
Note This item was digitized from materials loaned by the Gulf Coast Archive and Museum (GCAM).
Item Description
Title File 008
Transcript 8 Gay Austin August, 1978 continued from page 7 VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA July 12: Today is my birthday. I am 24, a good age to live. I have yet to worry about the possibility of non-existent wrinkles. But how quickly time moves! July 15: Ah, Vancouver, how I fold my heart to you. Wreck Beach directly behind the University of B.C., where one may sunbathe nude and venture into the waters and smoke some recreational weed and meet and relate. And all your other beaches. And a few miles north, Highway 1 weaves on the landward side of the forested cliffs and down below the islands and channels of an incredible deep blue offward and rich forested growth to snow-packed summits. Horseshoe Bay and its ferries which lead you through the waters and about the islands to wherever in the late evening fog or day-sun you wish to go. July 16: Last night, I sat myself at a picnic table overlooking the waters surrounding Stanley Park. On three sides the harbour waters. The sun at about 10:00 p.m. began its slow descent, that orange gold goblet. Twilight gleams, that intercessory prayer, like sonorous globed goblets. A hue of tan moist orange red keening behind the west-edged mountains, the low mountain hills dropping into the waters, the bay's end. The tanned cool heat of desert sandy sky red contrasting, setting off blue steepness of pin- hills. Twilight, 0 chant, that gold goblet circuiting the hills and the bay over-reaching it and passenger cruising ships moored amongst the waters, sun long gone, but not that incredible glow slowly dissipating, and moon already risen hours or days or weeks ago... 1 watch ship lights promenade. I feel com-lete. It is 10:45 p.m. The white sheet in front has altered to a pale, now darker blue. I feel at peace. I shall not forget where I am; I thrust myself to feel. I know I shall eventually return to Vancouver to witness this all again and this peace. I am seated with the blue shed befor. me when the two arrive. One asks me what 1 am doiag with that sheet of paper. They are lovers from Montreal who had moved to escape the political dilemmas there. We speak on issues, on American and Soviet propaganda, and I listen attentively as one tells me his experiences in a Montreal that once had included him. They are waiting for friends to appear and I have no doubt that I shall be included. It is cool, cold, perhaps, the temperature 55 with the ocean wind streaming. We shiver and watch the moving lights on the waters. Their friends, their straight friends, arrive. We all shiver and say we wish to go and have a coffee somewhere, but we remain at the bay, commenting on the lights and the political situation and the moon's full-moon-shine and a harbor- light-house across the sound bleating and deep throaty calls of ships. I mention that all businesses in Canada shoul- be 100 percent Canadian. One of the lovers gives me a suspicious look, then assumes I have not simply parroted the line and the group discusses the Canadian situation. With his friends seated about his stance he points to the sky. There, above us all, a thin sheer of white like a maple leaf shimmers. He opens his arms and cries, "0 Canada...", and again, "0 Canada..." and the group basks happily in his words. He turns back at them and says, "Now if the government should start dropping maple leaves over Quebec, you can be sure something is about to hap pen that might not be very pleasant." He turns his face toward the apparition of the leaf and smiles another, "0 Canada..." and rejoins the group. "Besides," his lover informs me, "if Quebec secedes, Canada would lose such beauty." Looking upon the site of the maple leaf and the people. I wish to alter my circumstances immediately. To carry a bottle of wine out and build a fire and watch the sun setting on the beach, ah... July 17: A sweltering 25 degrees centigrade (77 degrees) brings everyone out to the beach. And especially with the strikes going on the beaches are packed. At Wrecker Beach, I meet a guy. Tonight, we have gone to see COMING HOME and to hold each other tight with each successive horror. We walk arm-in-arm on the downtown streets and watch liberals avert their eyes. How we enjoy it! July 18: This night we see a mediocre (well, alright) comedy after having toasted over steak and wine. How warm we are with each other, and how beautiful. July 19: I cross the border and return to a monstrous America. I shall stop in San Francisco before leaving the West Coast entirely. I shall find means to return.
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