bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings

Monday, July 18, 2005
BeingBoring
i dunnowhy, but last night, saying goodnight to my TV buddies, settling in sometime after midnight, at this desk, on the computer, I had to hear that Pet Shop Boys song. I'm sure bazillions of gay men have specific memories of the song - events, summers, people they associate the song with. Oddly enough, this song and the person it makes me think of aren't even in the same story, but the song makes me think of him, nonetheless. It's one of those "he loved this group, I've grown to love this song by that group" kinda association.

"Some are here, and some are missing" is, (probably not unique to me), where I get choked up and think about a good friend from years back. I couldn't tell you of any time we actually listened to or heard the song together, but he was a huge PetShopBoys fan. I was not; and, as usual, dismissed songs like West End Girls as, well, pop crap. A few months after he died, his best friend called me, saying he was sorting through things, and David had left something for me. I couldn't go; I couldn't not go. The thought of being in that apartment without David, remembering specific times together there was too much; but we all go through that, and have to get over it and do what we gotta do. So I got on the bike, rode up, got buzzed in, and found 2 good friends sorting through stuff. We hugged, they chatted about nothing, then one showed me two items he said David had left for me - a Robot cookie jar, and a large photo print of David naked on his bed (with the cookie jar in the frame!) god, the man was handsome..... Crying isn't the word, this was just tears, freely flowing, as I hugged the cookie jar and re-rolled the picture. Then I was instructed to go thru designated piles of stuff and take as much as I wanted. They had all this stuff to sort, and give away, and assured me taking stuff would help a great deal. I knew I really couldn't, but politely looked thru the piles. When I got to the CD's, they joked how most of the good stuff was gone, but to take everything that i even remotely might want. Nothing, really. Then I noticed the orange casing, picked it up, and saw it was Very, from one of David's favorites groups. Most likely all his other friends had the disc, and looking through the tracklist I saw Go West, which, funny enough, I had indeed really liked, so now I would have it. I may have grabbed a couple of books, but that was about it, eventually said my goodbyes, and headed home.

Later that day, I loaded the disc into the stereo, and was pleasantly surprised at how enjoyable the album was. Those of you familiar with the album know how it ends, and I was already lost in my own thoughts, the music playing as the last track (their version of the Village People's Go West) came on, and it was as great as ever. When the song was over, i was pre-occupied, and hadn't noticed that it wasn't actually over. A couple minutes of silence pass, and then out of the speakers, the sweet notes drift out, and what I guess would be called a "postscript" a bit more soft singing, chills down my back as I thought something, someone had possessed my stereo.

I believe in ecstasy
The times we've had, you and me

Friends we've met along the way
Partied every night and day

And I know we'll meet again


Glasses fogged up as I stared through watery eyes at the stereo, which had once again gone silent.