Date: Sun, 13 Feb 2005 14:43:45 -0800
From: Jingjok <lizwrite@earthlink.net>
Subject: Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day

by Jingjok

.....

WARNING: The following material relates events in a relationship between
adult males. If the laws of your jurisdiction do not permit you to view
such material, please leave here at once and go to where you can learn how
to work to change the laws of your jurisdiction. If you are offended by
such material, please seek psychiatric counseling to discuss why you are
here in the first place.

On the other hand, if you simply don't care for the type of material
indicated by the story codes, well, have a nice day.

SONG NOTE: "Some Enchanted Evening," lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein, music by
Richard Rodgers.

.....

Valentine's Day

I looked around the house and found it. That souvenir of a day eight years
ago. One of many that remind me of the happy years that have since come and
gone.

A little red bunny. Brown seed for a nose on his white face. Ruff of white
fur around his neck. Red heart on his white belly, bearing white letters
that spell "Love."

His letter, written in carefully crafted block letters, had come in early
December. "Our love will last forever. When are you coming back to Thailand?"

I'd given up eagerly checking the mail by then, a month and a half after I
returned from my post-retirement trip around the world. Then, with his
letter in hand, and my reply in the nearest mailbox, I'd booked my flights
and meticulously planned our honeymoon tour of Thailand. A few days at the
beach, a few days in the north, prepaid hotel rooms. Nowadays I let him
plan our tours. After all, it's his country.

I had met him my second night out in Bangkok. The first night, my Thai
internet friends had taken me to dinner, and then given me a tour of the
gay spots, including the most popular gay disco in the tourist district.
Next evening, on my own, I fled in panic from the advances of one of the
nearly naked gogo boys in the most notorious club in my guidebook, and
sought refuge in familiar surroundings.

Pause now, and put on your old tape of South Pacific. Fast forward to where
Rossano Brazzi is lip synching, while Ezio Pinza sings, "Some enchanted
evening, you may see a stranger, you may see a stranger, across a crowded
room ..."

When I walked in, he caught my eye. Shirtless, slim, smooth brown skin,
dancing with two Asian girls. I made my way to the bar and traded my entry
ticket for a beer. Turning back toward the dance floor, I stood next to a
couple of Australian lesbians. He was still out there, dancing with his two
girl friends.

Distracted for a moment when a cute Thai boy groped me and flashed a
brilliant smile as he moved away with his friends, I barely noticed when my
Aussie neighbors moved away. I couldn't see my dancing boy, and wondered if
he had left the club.

"Some enchanted evening, when you find your true love
When you feel him call you across a crowded room
Then fly to his side and make him your own
Or all through your life you may dream all alone."

Then there he was, standing in front of me. Barely time for names to be
exchanged before I felt a tap on my shoulder, and a thirty something
Chinese man asked if I were from Los Angeles. Another internet friend, with
whom I'd probably have spent the remainder of the evening if my dream
dancer had arrived a few seconds later.

Alone together in the crowded disco, we talked above the loud music. He
liked my beard and my smile. I liked everything about him. We danced, and
sat on a bench outside in the warm evening air and talked some more, and
then went to my hotel room.

Next day, we walked in the park, and sat on the grass and tossed bread
crumbs to the ducks. Thai food for dinner - mild for me. My mate has
ordered for me or prepared every meal I've had over there in the last eight
years. More dancing, more lovemaking, and morning came, before my plane
would leave.

Photographs in the hotel parking lot, and then I watched him ride away on
the back of a motorcycle taxi. More than I had ever dreamed of when I set
off around the world. But probably just a dream, I supposed.

"Who can explain it, who can tell you why?
Fools give you reasons, wise men never try."

Four months later, we were at Pattaya Beach. We checked in to the gay
hotel, and then walked on the beach and held hands as we strolled to the
end of the pier. At night we toured the gogo boy bars. I felt only a few
minutes of nervousness when we went to dance at the straight disco.

During the days we were tourists, watching the show at the crocodile farm,
or riding an elephant through open country outside of town. A picture hangs
on my wall, our elephant thigh deep in a river as we rocked in a howdah on
its shoulders behind the mahout, me in my floppy hat that I can crumple and
put in my back pocket, and my mate holding an umbrella to protect his skin
from the sun.

We went to a mall to see an English movie with Thai subtitles. With time to
spare, we browsed the shops. I saw a card shop, and told him I wanted to
get a card for Valentine's Day. He went to another shop, and we met and sat
in a Swenson's and exchanged cards over our banana splits. I hadn't had a
Valentine card since high school, forty years before. And, oh yes, he gave
me the little red bunny.

"Once you have found him, never let him go
Once you have found him, never let him go."

May all of my readers treasure a memory of a Valentine's Day as happy as
was mine.

.....

The End