Richard Grayson

Richard Grayson, a retired lawyer and college professor, is the author of With Hitler in New York (1979), I Brake for ...

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We made love at 1 AM on her living room couch. I love holding her, hugging her, her legs, her smell, her wisps of hair where a man’s sideburns would be, the beauty mark on her left breast. . . I don’t care if she’s also seeing a 21-year-old law student now. I want her to be happy.

The more I think about fame, the closer I inch toward it, the more frightened I become of changing into someone I wouldn’t approve of. Yet I consciously, desperately, seek fame – all the while knowing this will probably make me unhappy.

I passed some intimidating hoody-looking kids. But after listening to their conversation, I suddenly realized that all of these guys hanging out on my own neighborhood corner, smoking cigarettes in their sleeveless undershirts, were gay. It was weird.

Sometimes I wonder what will become of Libby. Twenty years from now, will she be a fortyish hippie, a relic of the 60s? Most of us, it seems – me, Libby, Mason, Avis, Teresa – don’t seem to be on solid ground yet.

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