Googling for lost friends & lovers

David Paul McCorkle always seemed to epitomize what I found erotically appealing: vulnerable, petty, sweet, nelly guy who used cosmetics but didn’t look like a woman. That he was 5’8” was probably why that became my ideal height (just right for holding in your lap).

Wondering, what had happened to him I created an entry, hoping that if anyone who knew David were to Google for his name, they’d find my page. And they did.

Once again I learned that someone I’d known and cared for had died. Last time I foolishly tapped the ability of Google I learned that Van, an androgynous beauty I knew many years later: he was tall and very self-possessed. But like David he was a feminine southern gay guy.

The two of them stand at the beginning and end of my youthful sexuality. After Van I’d live with a woman then spend many years celibate.

Both of them are dead. My life isn’t any better - or worse, really – knowing that. I can’t help but wonder if (to paraphrase the end of many a bad science fiction movie): there are some things one should never Google for.

(I suspect that I’m so deeply in the throes of nicotine withdrawal that the above makes even less sense than I imagine.)