'In My Turf'
He wants to enjoy the uncomplicated relaxed happy mood which is nearly always produced by a workout at the gym. It is so good to feel the body’s satisfaction and gratitude; no matter how much it may protest, it likes being forced to perform these tasks.--Christopher Isherwood, A SINGLE MAN
Paloma sent me a bouquet of flowers in the form of a card:
6 Novembre 1990
Dear Michael,Sorry I haven’t been writing much lately but we—again—have a lot of people at the Residence Club. I also started working out again. It is hard when you’ve stopped for a long time. It’s just like starting all over again. Every time I see SANTA BARBARA or some other soap-opera or TV show I think about you. I could picture you in one of those shows. I wonder how the guys playing in those movies get their parts. Is there an Actors Studio in L.A.?
She also sent me another one of those postcards of the French knives. Is it a sign that she wants to stab me for some reason?
…Here is a card from LAGUIOLES. That’s the place where Alexandre’s sister lives. We went there last year and also this year. Remember I told you about these knives that are very famous? I don’t remember if I sent you a card from Benidorm (in the East side of SPAIN). We just stayed there for two days because that was right after the beginning of the war. When we were in Madrid (right before Benidorm), Alexandre’s father called us to tell us that there was no sugar left in the stores…that people were fighting in the stores.
November 11, 1990
Meanwhile, Alan and I were on our escape to the San Francisco-Bay Area. We went to see my mother in Alameda, of course. I was 'in my turf’, so wanted to show Alan a good time. After Alameda we went to Sausalito and we took a pleasant ride on the ferry.
It was a beautiful day. Alan took a photo of me on the boat wearing that T-shirt that had a cool image by that artist, Mark Kostabi.
After the ferry ride I took Alan to a cool joint in Sausalito simply known as “HAMBURGERS”. They make such good burgers there. I snapped a photo of Alan there. It was hard to read him. I couldn’t tell if he liked the area or not. He seemed quiet as he evaluated it all…or maybe he was just ‘taking it all in’.
We drove to Napa Valley and checked-in to the AUBERGE DU SOLEIL. Alan had done some research and understood this to be one of the BEST places to stay. We had a beautiful room. I liked when we walked in to our room and soft music was playing.
November 12, 1990
Alan took a photo of me in my “underpants”. I laugh at this fact because Alan calls them “underpants”.
“Why do you say ‘underpants’?” I asked.“Because that’s what they are.”“No, they’re underwear…but you can say underpants if you want.”
Why leave? The hotel was hidden and pleasant, so we got dressed and ate dinner there. I took a photo of Alan on one of the chairs in our room. I loved his olive green sport coat that he was wearing.
We had more time in Napa Valley, so we planned to explore a few wineries and get a better feel for the area over the next couple of days. It’s a beautiful place whether one is wearing underpants or not.
He was my secret conduit to myself—like a catalyst that allows us to become who we are, the foreign body, the pacer, the graft, the patch that sends all the right impulses, the steel pin that keeps a soldier’s bone together, the other man’s heart that makes us more us than we were before the transplant.
--CALL ME BY YOUR NAME, Andre Aciman
Paloma sent me a bouquet of flowers in the form of a card:6 Novembre 1990
Dear Michael,Sorry I haven’t been writing much lately but we—again—have a lot of people at the Residence Club. I also started working out again. It is hard when you’ve stopped for a long time. It’s just like starting all over again. Every time I see SANTA BARBARA or some other soap-opera or TV show I think about you. I could picture you in one of those shows. I wonder how the guys playing in those movies get their parts. Is there an Actors Studio in L.A.?
She also sent me another one of those postcards of the French knives. Is it a sign that she wants to stab me for some reason?
…Here is a card from LAGUIOLES. That’s the place where Alexandre’s sister lives. We went there last year and also this year. Remember I told you about these knives that are very famous? I don’t remember if I sent you a card from Benidorm (in the East side of SPAIN). We just stayed there for two days because that was right after the beginning of the war. When we were in Madrid (right before Benidorm), Alexandre’s father called us to tell us that there was no sugar left in the stores…that people were fighting in the stores.
November 11, 1990
Meanwhile, Alan and I were on our escape to the San Francisco-Bay Area. We went to see my mother in Alameda, of course. I was 'in my turf’, so wanted to show Alan a good time. After Alameda we went to Sausalito and we took a pleasant ride on the ferry. It was a beautiful day. Alan took a photo of me on the boat wearing that T-shirt that had a cool image by that artist, Mark Kostabi.
After the ferry ride I took Alan to a cool joint in Sausalito simply known as “HAMBURGERS”. They make such good burgers there. I snapped a photo of Alan there. It was hard to read him. I couldn’t tell if he liked the area or not. He seemed quiet as he evaluated it all…or maybe he was just ‘taking it all in’.
We drove to Napa Valley and checked-in to the AUBERGE DU SOLEIL. Alan had done some research and understood this to be one of the BEST places to stay. We had a beautiful room. I liked when we walked in to our room and soft music was playing.November 12, 1990
Alan took a photo of me in my “underpants”. I laugh at this fact because Alan calls them “underpants”.
“Why do you say ‘underpants’?” I asked.“Because that’s what they are.”“No, they’re underwear…but you can say underpants if you want.”
Why leave? The hotel was hidden and pleasant, so we got dressed and ate dinner there. I took a photo of Alan on one of the chairs in our room. I loved his olive green sport coat that he was wearing.
We had more time in Napa Valley, so we planned to explore a few wineries and get a better feel for the area over the next couple of days. It’s a beautiful place whether one is wearing underpants or not.
He was my secret conduit to myself—like a catalyst that allows us to become who we are, the foreign body, the pacer, the graft, the patch that sends all the right impulses, the steel pin that keeps a soldier’s bone together, the other man’s heart that makes us more us than we were before the transplant.
--CALL ME BY YOUR NAME, Andre Aciman
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