There are not a lot of flattering pictures of me from 1988. The one above - probably taken in the autumn of 1988 - is as close as one might get. It's with my nephew Josh, taken in my sister Pat's home, the circumstances long forgotten. Though I was in my sister's house a lot.
In 1988, I ended my second year of college & I began my third. In the middle - in the summer of 1988 - I lived in Garland, mainly at my sister Pat's house, & I had refused to get a job. I was a bum for three months, & there was a reason for it.
At the end of my second year of college, I had taken two years of German, & I was actually quite proficient in the language. My mother was German, & I had family in Germany, & I wrote them (my mother's brother) to ask if I could spend the summer there. I really wanted to immerse myself in German & thought being there, speaking German, having experiences, would be an amazing experience.
Two things stood in my way. The first was my mother. I found out pretty quickly that my mother was opposed to that idea of me visiting her family without her. This is complicated but it came down to the fact that my mother had told her relatives in Germany many things about her life in the United States which she was hesitant for them to learn that she had exaggerated or outright lied about - without her being there to spin it. She simply did not trust me to represent her in a way that she herself had described to her German family. She did not want me to visit, & told them so.
The second was money. My family in Germany did not have ready money to send to me to get me to Germany. If I had had the money - & you know, I could've easily gotten a credit card! - they would have welcomed me with open arms. But as such, my mother's opposition to visiting kept me from going there.
When I think about it, I kinda counted on spending the summer in Germany. When it didn't happen, I became spiteful. I decided I wouldn't work or do anything like that. I lived at my sister Pat's house & slept all day & woke up at night & wandered around Garland, Texas, listening to music - much of the music that I will play on this week's show - & being a malcontent. I spent a lot of time with my friend Leah, who was a high school girl who had dated my little brother. But mostly I was up at night thinking I was a poet looking for inspiration. I wrote a lot of terrible poetry.
When I finally got my scholarship money for the fall semester, I used it to buy a bus ticket to visit the girl I had been in love with for two years. She had moved a couple years before from Garland to Memphis & I don't think I hoped that we might rekindle anything - she had never really felt anything for me - but I visited anyway. Dopey hope springs eternal. It's funny, I spent most of the time with her little brother, who was very interested in the music I liked. But I remember one profound moment:
When I saw her again, for the first time, in awhile, I knew I was no longer in love with her. Not that I didn't think she was pretty or attractive, or that I wasn't attracted to her - I wasn't in love with her. This was a distinction that was important to me. Had she wanted to kiss me (she didn't), I might have kissed her. I hadn't had sex yet, but had she wanted to do that, fuck yeah I'd give it a try. But the feelings that I associated with being in love - they were no longer there. As I imposed on her family for a week, I was keenly aware that I did not want to be there.
Of course there were pictures & in one, I put lipstick on & kissed her on the cheek. Here is that picture:
There are two things to mention about that visit. One is that, for whatever reason, I chose not to bring deodorant for myself. I assumed they'd have it. They did not. I tried to slip away to buy some but someone always was around & I felt too self-conscious. Isn't that kinda fucked up? I smelled awful & sweaty but did not have the courage to say hey! I am not this smelly. I am going to buy some roll-on if that's okay.
Second, I really did connect with the love interest's little brother. We corresponded for some time after that. His experience diverged from mine - he was attractive & had far greater success with women than I did & he also began to experiment with drugs, notably LSD, which I was not curious about - so we lost touch. This dear man, with whom I wish I could have stayed in touch, died in 2021. So the memories of spending time with him - even more than with his sister, the object of my affections - seem in retrospect more powerful, important, felt. I wish we had been closer. I fear I had dismissed him because he was somewhat younger than me.
After that, I returned to Austin for my third year of college, & my life would change a lot.
